No. XI. TO THE SAME. MY HONORED FRIEND, Edinburgh, Feb. 24, 1787. 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 other fools, to my title-page.* I have the honour to be, Ever your grateful, &c. This portrait is engraved by Mr. Beugo, an artist who well merits the epithet bestowed on him by the poet, after a picture of Mr. Nasmyth, which he painted con amore, and liberally presented to Burns. This picture is of the cabinet size, and is now in the possession of Mr. Alex. Cunningham, of Edinburgh. E. No. XII. To Mr. JAMES CANDLISH, Student in Physic, College, Glasgow. Edinburgh, March 21, 1787. MY EVER DEAR OLD ACQUAINTANCE, I WAS equally surprised and pleased at your letter; though I dare say you will think by my delaying so long to write to you, that I am so drowned in the intoxication of good fortune as to be indifferent to' old and once dear connections.. The truth is, I was determined to write a good letter, full of argument, amplification, erudition, and, as Bayes says, all that. I. thought of it, and thought of it, but for my soul I cannot and lest you should mistake the cause of my silence, I just sit down to tell you so. Don't give yourself credit though, that the strength of your logic scares me the truth is, I never mean to meet you on that ground at all. You have shewn me one thing, which was to be demonstrated; that strong` pride of reasoning, with a little affectation of singularity, may mislead the best of hearts. I, likewise, since you and I were first acquainted, in the pride of despising old women's stories, ventured in "the daring path Spinosa trod;" but experience of the weakness, not the strength, of human powers, made me glad to grasp at revealed religion. I must stop, but don't impute my brevity to a wrong cause. I am still, in the Apostle Paul's phrase, “The old man with his deeds" as when we were sporting about the lady thorn. I shall be four weeks here yet, at least; and so I shall expect to hear from you-welcome sense, welcome nonsense. I am, with the warmest sincerity, Yours. No. XIII. TO THE SAME. MY DEAR FRIEND, IF once I were gone from this scene of hurry and dissipation, I promise myself the pleasure of that correspondence being renewed which has been so long broken. At present I have time for nothing. Dissipation and business engross every moment. I am engaged in assisting an honest Scots enthusiast,* a friend of mine, who is an engraver, and has taken it into his head to publish a collection of all our songs set to music, of which the words and music are done by Scotsmen. This, you will easily guess, is an undertaking exactly suited to my taste. I have collected, begged, borrowed, and stolen all the songs I could meet with. Pompey's Ghost, words and music, I beg from you immediately, to go into his second number: the first is already published. I shall shew you the first number when I see you in Glasgow, which will be in a fortnight or less. Do be so kind as send me the song in a day or two: you cannot imagine how much it will oblige me. Direct to me at Mr. W. Cruikshank's, St. James's Square, New Town, Edinburgh. * Johnson, the publisher of the Scots Musical Museum. NO. XIV. To WILLIAM CREECH, Esq. (of Edinburgh,) London. MY HONORED FRIEND, Selkirk, 13th May, 1787. THE inclosed I have just wrote, nearly extempore, in a solitary Inn in Selkirk, after a miserable wet day's riding. I have been over most of East Lothian, Berwick, Roxburgh, and Selkirkshires; and next week I begin a tour through the north of England. Yesterday I dined with Lady Hariot, sister to my noble patron,* Quem Deus conservet! I would write till I would tire you as much with dull prose as I dare say by this time you are with wretched verse, but I am jaded to death; so, with a grateful farewel, I have the honor to be, Good Sir, yours sincerely. I. Auld chuckie Reekie's† sair distrest, Nae joy her bonie buskit nest Can yield aya, Her darling bird that she loe's best Willie's awa! * James, Earl of Glencairn. † Edinburgh. II. O Willie was a witty wight, And trig an' braw: But now they'll busk her like a fright III. Willie 's awa! The stiffest o' them a' he bow'd, That was a law: We've lost a birkie weel worth gowd, Willie's awa! IV. Now gawkies, tawpies, gowks and fools, He wha could brush them down to mools V. The breth'ren o' the Commerce-Chaumer* Amang them a'; I fear they'll now mak mony a stammer VI. Willie 's awa! Nae mair we see his levee door * The Chamber of Commerce of Edinburgh, of which Mr. C. was Secretary. Many literary gentlemen were accustomed to meet at Mr. C's house at breakfast. Burns often met with them there, when he called, and hence the name of Levee. |