etic engagement, I sit down immediately to an- It took upo' the wife's heart, and she began to swer it in kind. Your acknowledgment of my

spew,

I wish, &c. &c.

poor but just encomiums on your surprising ge- And quo' the wee wifeikie, I wish I binns fou, nius, and your opinion of my rhyming excursions, are both, I think, by far too high. The difference between our two tracts of education

I have heard of another new composition, by a young ploughman of my acquaintance, that I am vastly pleased with, to the tune of The humours of Glen, which I fear won't do, as the

mentioned these, such as they are, to show my readiness to oblige you, and to contribute my mite, if I could, to the patriotic work you have in hand, and which I wish all success to. You have only to notify your mind, and what you want of the above shall be sent you.

and ways of life is entirely in your favour, and gives you the preference every manner of way. I know a classical education will not create a versifying taste, but it mightily improves and as-music, I am told, is of Irish original. I have sists it; and though, where both these meet, there may sometimes be ground for approbation, yet where taste appears single, as it were, and neither cramped nor supported by acquisition, I will always sustain the justice of its prior claim to applause. A small portion of taste, this way, I have had almost from childhood, especially in Meantime, while you are thus publicly, I the old Scottish dialect: and it is as old a thing may say, employed, do not sheath your own as I remember, my fondness for Christ kirk o' proper and piercing weapon. From what I the Green, which I had by heart ere I was have seen of yours already, I am inclined to twelve years of age, and which, some years ago, hope for much good. One lesson of virtue and I attempted to turn into Latin verse. While I morality, delivered in your amusing style, and was young, I dabbled a good deal in these things; from such as you, will operate more than dozens but, on getting the black I gown, gave it pretty would do from such as me, who shall be told it much over, till my daughters grew up, who, be- is our employment, and be never more minded: ing all good singers, plagued me for words to whereas, from a pen like yours, as being one of some of their favourite tunes, and so extorted the many, what comes will be admired. Adthese effusions, which have made a public appear-miration will produce regard, and regard will ance beyond my expectations, and contrary to leave an impression, especially when example my intentions, at the same time that I hope there goes along. is nothing to be found in them uncharacteristic, or unbecoming the cloth, which I would always wish to see respected.

As to the assistance you propose from me in the undertaking you are engaged in, I am sorry I cannot give it so far as I could wish, and you, perhaps, expect. My daughters, who were my only intelligencers, are all foris familiate, and the old woman their mother has lost that taste. There are two from my own pen, which I might give you, if worth the while. One to the old Scotch tune of Dumbarton's Drums.

The other perhaps you have met with, as your noble friend the Duchess has, I am told, heard of it. It was squeezed out of me by brother parson in her neighbourhood, to accommodate a new Highland reel for the Marquis's birth-day, to the stanza of

"Tune your fiddles, tune them sweetly," &c.

If this last answer your purpose, you may have it from a brother of mine, Mr. James Skinner, writer in Edinburgh, who, I believe, can give the music too.

There is another humorous thing, I have heard said to be done by the Catholic priest Geddes, and which hit my taste much :

"There was a wee wifeikie was coming frae the

fair,

Had gotten a little drapikie, which bred her meikle care;

Now binna saying I'm ill bred,
Else, by my troth, I'll not be glad
For cadgers, ye have heard it said,
And sic like fry,

Maun aye be harland in their trade,
And sae maun L

Wishing you from my poet-pen, all succem, and in my other character, all happiness and heavenly direction,

SIR,

I remain, with esteem,

Your sincere friend,

JOHN SKINNER.

No. LVIII.

FROM MRS. ROSS.

Kilravock Castle, 80th Nov. 1787.

I HOPE you will do me the justice to believe, that it was no defect in gratitude for your punctual performance of your parting promise, that has made me so long in acknowledging it, but merely the difficulty I had in getting the Highland songs you wished to have, accurately noted; they are at last enclosed: but how shall I convey along with them those graces they acquired from the melodious voice of one of the fair spirits of the hill of Kildrummie! There I

"A plan of publishing a complete collection of must leave to your imagination to supply. It Scottish Songs," &c,

has powers sufficient to transport you to her

side, to recall her accents, and to make them [friends of Job, of affliction-bearing memory, still vibrate in the ears of memory. To her I when they sat down with him seven days and am indebted for getting the enclosed notes. seven nights, and spake not a word.

They are clothed with "thoughts that breathe, and words that burn," These, however, being in an unknown tongue to you, you must again I am naturally of a superstitious cast, and as have recourse to that same fertile imagination soon as my wonder-scared imagination regained of yours to interpret them, and suppose a lover's its consciousness and resumed its functions, I description of the beauties of an adored mistress cast about what this mania of yours might por-why did I say unknown? The language of tend. My foreboding ideas had the wide stretch love is an universal one, that seems to have of possibility; and several events, great in their escaped the confusion of Babel, and to be understood by all nations.

magnitude, and important in their consequences, occurred to my fancy. The downfal of the conclave, or the crushing of the cork rumps; a ducal coronet to Lord George G and the protestant interest; or St. Peter's keys to ..

I am

I rejoice to find that you were pleased with so many things, persons, and places in your northern tour, because it leads me to hope vou may be induced to revisit them again. That the old castle of K- -k, and its inhabitants, You want to know how I come on. were amongst these, adds to my satisfaction. I just in statu quo, or, not to insult a gentleman am even vain enough to admit your very flat-with my Latin, " in auld use and wont." The tering application of the line of Addison's; at noble Earl of Glencairn took me by the hand any rate, allow me to believe that "friendship to-day, and interested himself in my concerns, will maintain the ground she has occupied" in with a goodness like that benevolent being, both our hearts, in spite of absence, and that, whose image he so richly bears. He is a when we do meet, it will be as acquaintance of stronger proof of the immortality of the soul, a score of years standing; and on this footing, than any that philosophy ever produced. A consider me as interested in the future course of mind like his can never die. Let the worshipyour fame, so splendidly commenced. Any ful squire, H. L. or the reverend Mass J. M. communications of the progress of your muse go into their primitive nothing. At best they will be received with great gratitude, and the are but ill-digested lumps of chaos, only one of fire of your genius will have power to warm, them strongly tinged with bituminous particles even us, frozen sisters of the north. and sulphureous effluvia. But my noble paThe friends of Kk and K- etron, eternal as the heroic swell of magnanimiunite in cordial regards to you. When you in-ty, and the generous throb of benevolence, shall cline to figure either in your idea, suppose some look on with princely eye at "the war of eleof us reading your poems, and some of us singing ments, the wreck of matter, and the crash of your songs, and my little Hugh looking at your worlds."

picture, and you'll seldom be wrong.

We re

member Mr. N. with as much good will as we de any body, who hurried Mr. Burns from us.

Farewell, Sir, I can only contribute the THE following fragments are all that now exwidow's mite to the esteem and admiration excited by your merits and genius, but this I give as she did, with all my heart-being sincerely E. R.

yours,

TO

DEAR SIR,

No. LIX.

DALRYMPLE, Esq. OF
ORANGEFIELD.

Edinburgh, 1787.

ist of twelve or fourteen of the finest letters
that Burns ever wrote. In an evil hour, the
originals were thrown into the fire by the
late Mrs. Adair of Scarborough; the Char-
lotte so often mentioned in this correspon-
dence, and the lady to whom "The Banks
of the Devon" is addressed.
E.

No. LX.

TO MISS MARGARET CHALMERS,

(NOW MRS. HAY, OF EDINBURGH).

Sept. 26, 1787.

I SUPPOSE the devil is so elated with his success with you, that he is determined by a coup I SEND Charlotte the first number of the de main to complete his purposes on you all at songs; I would not wait for the second numonce, in making you a poet. I broke open the ber; I hate delays in little marks of friendletter you sent me; hummed over the rhymes; ship, as I hate dissimulation in the language of and, as I saw they were extempore, said to my- the heart. I am determined to pay Charlotte Belf they were very well: but when I saw at a poetic compliment, if I could hit on some the bottom a name that I shall ever value with glorious old Scotch air, in number second. grateful respect, "I gapit wide but naething

spak." I was nearly as much struck as the

⚫ of the Scots Musical Museum.

You will see a small attempt on a shred of pa- our family), I am determined, if my Dumfries per in the book; but though Dr. Blacklock business fail me, to return into partnership with commended it very highly, I am not just satis-him, and at our leisure take another farm in fied with it myself. I intend to make it de- the neighbourhood. I assure you I look for scription of some kind: the whining cant of high compliments from you and Charlotte on love, except in real passion, and by a masterly this very sage instance of my unfathomable, inhand, is to me as insufferable as the preaching comprehensible wisdom. Talking of Charlotte, cant of old Father Smeaton, Whig-minister at I must tell her that I have to the best of my Kilmaurs. Darts, flames, cupids, loves, graces, power, paid her a poetic compliment, now comand all that farrago, are just a Mauchline pleted. The air is admirable: true old Highland. It was the tune of a Gaelic song which an Inverness lady sung me when I was there; and I was so charmed with it that I begged her to write me a set of it from her singing; for it had never been set before. I am fixed that it shall go in Johnson's next number; so Charlotte and you need not spend your precious time I won't say the poetry is in contradicting me. first-rate; though I am convinced it is very well: and, what is not always the case with compliments to ladies, it is not only sincere but

-a senseless rabble.

I got an excellent poetic epistle yesternight from the old, venerable author of Tullochgorum, John of Badenyon, &c. I suppose you know he is a clergyman. It is by far the finest poetic compliment I ever got. I will send you a copy of it.

Devon.")

I go on Thursday or Friday to Dumfries to wait on Mr. Miller about his farms.-Do tell that to Lady M'Kenzie, that she may give me credit for a little wisdom. "I wisdom dwell with prudence." What a blessed fire-side! just. How happy should I be to pass a winter even- (Here follows the song of "The Banks of the ing under their venerable roof! and smoke a pipe of tobacco, or drink water-gruel with them! What solemn, lengthened, laughter-quashing gravity of phiz! What sage remarks on the good-for-nothing sons and daughters of indiscretion and folly! And what frugal lessons, as we straitened the fire-side circle, on the uses of the poker and tongs!

Edinburgh, Nov. 21, 1787.

I HAVE one vexatious fault to the kindlywelcome, well filled sheet which I owe to your and Charlotte's goodness-it contains too much sense, sentiment, and good-spelling. It is impossible that even you two, whom I declare to my God, I will give credit for any degree of excellence the sex are capable of attaining, it is impossible you can go on to correspond at that rate; so like those who, Shenstone says, retire because they have made a good speech, I shall after a few letters hear no more of you. I insist that you shall write whatever comes first: what you see, what you read, what you hear, what you admire, what you dislike, trifles, bagatelles, nonsense; or to fill up a corner, e'en

Miss N. is very well, and begs to be remembered in the old way to you. I used all my eloquence, all the persuasive flourishes of the hand, and heart-melting modulation of periods in my power, to urge her out to Herveiston, but all in vain. My rhetoric seems quite to have lost its effect on the lovely half of mankind. I have seen the day-but that is a "tale of other years."-In my conscience I believe that my heart has been so oft on fire that it is absolutely vitrified. I look on the sex with something like the admiration with which I regard the starry sky in a frosty December night. I admire the beauty of the Creator's workman- put down a laugh at full length. ship; I am charmed with the wild but grace-of your polite hints about flattery: I leave that ful eccentricity of their motions, and wish to your lovers, if you have or shall have any; them good night. I mean this with respect to though thank heaven I have found at last two a certain passion dont j'ai eu l'honneur d'etre un miserable esclave: as for friendship, you and Charlotte have given me pleasure, permanent pleasure," which the world cannot give, nor take away," I hope; and which will outlast the heavens and the earth.

Without date.

I HAVE been at Dumfries, and at one visit more shall be decided about a farm in that country. I am rather hopeless in it; but as my brother is an excellent farmer, and is, besides, an exceedingly prudent, sober man, (qualities which are only a younger brother's fortune in

Now none

girls who can be luxuriantly happy in their own minds and with one another, without that commonly necessary appendage to female bliss, A LOVER.

Charlotte and you are just two favourite resting places for my soul in her wanderings through the weary, thorny wilderness of this worldGod knows I am ill-fitted for the struggle: I glory in being a Poet, and I want to be thought a wise man-I would fondly be generous, and I wish to be rich. After all, I am afraid I am "Some folk hae a hantle o a lost subject. fauts, an' I'm but a ne'er-do-weel."

Afternoon. To close the melancholy reflections at the end of last sheet, I shall just add a piece of devotion commonly known in Carrick, by the title of the "Wabster's grace."

"Some say we're thieves, and e'en sae are we, | banners of imagination, whim, caprice, and

Some say we lie, and e'en sae do we !
Guide forgie us, and I hope sae will he!
-Up and to your looms, lads."

'Edinburgh, Dec. 12, 1787. I AM here under the care of a surgeon, with

passion; and the heavy-armed veteran regulars of wisdom, prudence and fore-thought, move so very, very slow, that I am almost in a state of perpetual warfare, and alas! frequent defeat. There are just two creatures that I would envy, a horse in his wild state traversing the forests of Asia, or an oyster on some of the desert shores of Europe. The one has not a wish without enjoyment, the other has neither wish

nor fear.

a bruised limb extended on a cushion; and the tints of my mind vying with the livid horror preceding a midnight thunder-storm. A drunken coachman was the cause of the first, and incomparably the lightest evil; misfortune, bodily constitution, hell and myself, have formed "Quadruple Alliance" to guarantee the other. I got my fall on Saturday, and am getting slow-be pleased with the news when I tell you, I ly better:

a

I have taken tooth and nail to the bible, and am got through the five books of Moses, and half way in Joshua. It is really a glorious book. I sent for my bookbinder to-day, and ordered him to get me an octavo bible in sheets, the best paper and print in town; and bind it with all the elegance of his craft.

I would give my best song to my worst enemy, I mean the merit of making it, to have you and Charlotte by me. You are angelic creatures, and would pour oil and wine into my wounded spirit.

I enclose you a proof copy of the "Banks of the Devon," which present with my best wishes to Charlotte. The " Ochil-hills," you shall probably have next week for yourself. None of your fine speeches !

Edinburgh, March 14, 1788.

I KNOW, my ever dear friend, that you will have at last taken a lease of a farm.

Yester

night I completed a bargain with Mr. Miller,
of Dalswinton, for the farm of Ellisland, on the
banks of the Nith, between five and six miles
above Dumfries. I begin at Whitsunday to
build a house, drive lime, &c. and heaven be
my help! for it will take a strong effort to
bring my mind into the routine of business. I'
have discharged all the army of my former pur-
have literally and strictly retained only the ideas
suits, fancies and pleasures; a motley host! and
of a few friends, which I have incorporated into
a life-guard. I trust in Dr. Johnson's observa-
tion, "Where much is attempted, something is
done." Firmness both in sufferance and exer-
tion, is a character I would wish to be thought
to possess; and have always despised the whin-
ing yelp of complaint, and the cowardly, feeble
resolve.

Edinburgh, Dec. 19, 1787.

Poor Miss K. is ailing a good deal this winter, and begged me to remember her to you the I BEGIN this letter in answer to yours of the first time I wrote you. Surely woman, amiable 17th current, which is not yet cold since I read woman, is often made in vain! Too delicately it. The atmosphere of my soul is vastly clearer formed for the rougher pursuits of ambition; than when I wrote you last. For the first time, too noble for the dirt of avarice, and even too yesterday I crossed the room on crutches. It gentle for the rage of pleasure: formed indeed would do your heart good too see my bardship, for and highly susceptible of enjoyment and rapnot on my poetic, but on my oaken stilts; ture; but that enjoyment, alas! almost wholly throwing my best leg with an air! and with at the mercy of the caprice, malevolence, stupias much hilarity in my gait and countenance, dity, or wickedness of an animal at all times as a May frog leaping across the newly harrowed comparatively unfeeling, and often brutal. ridge, enjoying the fragrance of the refreshed earth after the long-expected shower!

I can't say I am altogether at my ease when I see any where in my path, that meagre, squalid, famine-faced spectre, poverty; attended as he always is, by iron-fisted oppression, and leering contempt; but I have sturdily withstood his buffetings many a hard-laboured day already, and still my motto is-I DARE! My worst enemy is Moimême. I lie so miserably open to the inroads and incursions of a mischievous, ight-armed, well-mounted banditti, under the

Mauchline, 7th April, 1788.

I AM indebted to you and Miss Nimmo for letting me know Miss Kenedy. Strange! how apt we are to indulge prejudices in our judgments of one another! Even I, who pique myself on my skill in marking characters; because I am too proud of my character as a man, to be dazzled in my judgment for glaring wealth; and too proud of my situation as a poor man to be biassed against squalid poverty; I was unacquainted with Miss K.'s very uncommon worth.

I am going on a good deal progressive in mon | get any thing to do. I wanted un bút, which grand but, the sober science of life. I have is a dangerous, an unhappy situation. I got lately made some sacrifices for which, were I this without any hanging on, or mortifying soviva voce with you to paint the situation and licitation; it is immediate bread, and though recount the circumstances, you would applaud

me.

No date.

poor in comparison of the last eighteen months
of my existence, 'tis luxury in comparison of all-
my preceding life: besides, the commissioners
are some of them my acquaintances, and all of
them my firm friends.

NO. LXI.

TO MISS CHALMERS.

Now for that wayward, unfortunate thing, myself. I have broke measures with and last week I wrote him a frosty, keen letter. He replied in terms of chastisement, and promised me upon his honour that I should have the account on Monday; but this is Tuesday, and yet I have not heard a word from him. God have mercy on me! a poor d-mned, in-MY DEAR MADAM, Edinburgh, Dec. 1787. cautious, duped, unfortunate fool! The sport, the miserable victim, of rebellious pride; hypochondriac imagination, agonizing sensibility, and bedlam passions!

"I wish that I were dead, but I'm no like to die!" I had lately "a hairbreadth 'scape in th' imminent deadly breach" of love too. Thank my stars I got off heart-whole, "waur fleyd than hurt."-Interruption.

I JUST now have read yours. The poetio compliments I pay cannot be misunderstood. They are neither of them so particular as to point you out to the world at large; and the circle of your acquaintances will allow all I have said. Besides I have complimented you chiefly, almost solely, on your mental charms. Shall I be plain with you? I will; so look to it. Personal attractions, Madam, you have much above par; wit, understanding, and worth, you I have this moment got a hint I fear I am something possess in the first class. This is a cursed flat like undone but I hope for the best. Come, way of telling you these truths, but let me hear stubborn pride and unshrinking resolution! acno more of your sheepish timidity. I know company me through this, to me, miserable the world a little. I know what they will say world! You must not desert me! Your friend- of my poems; by second sight I suppose; for ship I think I can count on, though I should I am seldom out in my conjectures; and you date my letters from a marching regiment. may believe me, my dear Madam, I would not Early in life, and all my life, I reckoned on a recruiting drum as my forlorn hope. Seriously though, life at present presents me with but a melancholy path: but-my limb will soon be sound, and I shall struggle on.

Edinburgh, Sunday. TO-MORROW, my dear Madam, I leave Edinburgh.

run any risk of hurting you by an ill-judged compliment. I wish to show to the world, the odds between a poet's friends and those of simple prosemen. More for your information both the pieces go in. One of them, "Where braving all the winter's harms," is already setthe tune is Neil Gow's Lamentation for Abercarney; the other is to be set to an old Highland air in Daniel Dow's "collection of ancient Scots music; the name is Ha a Chaillich air mo Dheidh. My treacherous memory has forgot every circumstance about Les Incas, only I think you mentioned them as being in C possession. I shall ask him about it. I am afraid the song of "Somebody" will come too

week for Ayrshire, and from that to Dumfries, but there my hopes are slender. I leave my direction in town, so any thing, wherever I am, will reach me.

it is not too severe,

I have altered all my plans of future life. A late-as I shall, for certain, leave town in a farm that I could live in, I could not find; and indeed, after the necessary support my brother and the rest of the family required, I could not venture on farming in that style suitable to my feelings. You will condemn me for the next I saw your's to step I have taken. I have entered into the ex-nor did he take it amiss. On the contrary, cise. I stay in the west about three weeks, and like a whipt spaniel, he talks of being with you then return to Edinburgh for six weeks instruc- in the Christmas days. Mr. has given tions; afterwards, for I get employ instantly, I him the invitation, and he is determined to acgo où il plait a Dieu,-et mon Roi. I have cept of it. O selfishness! he owns in his sochosen this, my dear friend, after mature deli- ber moments, that from his own volatility of beration. The question is not at what door of inclination, the circumstances in which he is sifortune's palace shall we enter in; but what tuated and his knowledge of his father's dispo doors does she open to us? I was not likely to sition, the whole affair is chimerical—yet he