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No. LXVII.

TO THE EDITORS

OF THE MORNING CHRONICLE.*

Dumfries.

GENTLEMEN,

You will see by your subscribers' list, that I have now been about nine months one of that number.

I am

*This letter owes its origin to the following circum stance. A neighbour of the Poet's at Dumfries, called on him and complained that he was greatly disappointed in the irregular delivery of the Paper of The Morning Chronicle. Burns asked, "Why do not you write to the Editors of the Paper?" Good God, Sir, can I presume to write to the learned Editors of a Newspaper?-Well, if you are afraid of writing to the Editors of a Newspaper I am not; and if you think proper, I'll draw up a sketch of a letter, which

you may copy.

Burns tore a leaf from his excise book and instantly produced the sketch which I have transcribed, and which is here printed. The poor man thanked him, and took the

letter

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I am sorry to inform you, that in that time, seven or eight of your papers either have never been sent me, or else have never reached me. To be deprived of any one number of the first newspaper in Great Britain for information, ability and independance, is what I can ill brook and bear; but to be deprived of that most admirable oration of the Marquis of Lansdowne, when he made the great, though ineffectual attempt, (in the language of the poet, I fear too true,) "to save a sINKING STATE"-this was a loss which I neither can, nor will forgive you. That paper, Gentlemen, never reached me; but I demand it of you. I am a BRITON; and must be interested in the cause of LIBERTY:-I am a MAN; and the RIGHTS of HUMAN NATURE cannot be indifferent to me. However, do not let me mislead you: I am not a man in that situation of life, which, as your subscriber, can be of any consequence to you, in the eyes of those to whom

SITUA

letter home. However, that caution which the watchfulness of his enemies had taught him to exercise, prompted him to the prudence of begging a friend to wait on the person for whom it was written, and request the favor to have it returned. This request was complied with, and the paper never appeared in print.

E.

SITUATION OF LIFE ALONE is the criterion of MAN.—I am but a plain tradesman, in this distant, obscure country town: but that humble domicile in which I shelter my wife and children, is the CASTELLUM of a BRITON; and that scanty, hardearned income which supports them, is as truly my property, as the most magnificent fortune, of the most PUISSANT MEMBER of your HOUSE of

NOBLES.

These, Gentlemen, are my sentiments; and to them I subscribe my name: and were I a man of ability and consequence enough to address the PUBLIC, with that name should they appear.

I am, &c.

No.

.

No. LXVIII.

To COL. W. DUNBAR.

await my

I AM not gone to Elysium, most noble Colonel, but am still here in this sublunary world, serving my God by propagating his image, and honoring my king by begetting him loyal subjects. Many happy returns of the season friend! May the thorns of care never beset his path! May peace be an inmate of his bosom, and rapture a frequent visitor of his soul! May the blood-hounds of misfortune never trace his steps, nor the screech-owl of sorrow alarm his dwelling! May enjoyment tell thy hours, and pleasure number thy days, thou friend of the Bard! Blessed be he that blesseth thee, and cursed be he that curseth thee!

No.

No. LXIX.

To MR. HERON, OF HERON.

1794, or 1795.

SIR,

INCLOSE you some copies of a couple of political ballads; one of which, I believe, you have never seen. Would to Heaven I could make you master of as many votes in the Stewartry. But

"Who does the utmost that he can,
"Does well, acts nobly, angels could no more."

In order to bring my humble efforts to bear with more effect on the foe, I have privately printed a good many copies of both ballads, and have sent them among friends all about the country.

To pillory on Parnassus the rank reprobation of character, the utter dereliction of all principle, in a profligate junto which has not only outraged virtue, but violated common de

cency;

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