will not blame me for having maac.: you will appellation), that by way of some balance, howsee my apology in the motive.

May I just add, that Michael Bruce is one in whose company, from his past appearance, you would not, I am convinced, blush to be found; and as I would submit every line of his that should now be published, to your own criticisms, you would be assured that nothing derogatory either to him or you, would be admitted in that appearance he may make in future.

You have already paid an honourable tribute to kindred genius in Fergusson-I fondly hope that the mother of Bruce will experience your patronage.

I wish to have the subscription papers circulated by the 14th of March, Bruce's birth-day; which, I understand, some friends in Scotland talk this year of observing—at that time it will be resolved, I imagine, to place a plain, humble stone over his grave. This, at least, I trust you will agree to do-to furnish, in a few couplets, an inscription for it.

On those points may I solicit an answer as early as possible; a short delay might disappoint us in procuring that relief to the mother, which is the object of the whole.

You will be pleased to address for me under cover to the Duke of Athole, London.

ever trifling, in the account, I am fain to do any good that occurs in my very limited power to a fellow-creature, just for the selfish purpose of clearing a little the vista of retrospection.

SIR,

No. CLXVI.

TO THE REV. ARCH. ALISON.

Ellisland, near Dumfries, 14th Feb, 1791.

You must, by this time, have set me down as one of the most ungrateful of men. You did me the honour to present me with a book which does honour to science and the intellectual powers of man, and I have not even so much as acknowledged the receipt of it. The fact is, you yourself are to blame for it. Flattered as I was by your telling me that you wished to have my opinion of the work, the old spiritual enemy of mankind, who knows well that vanity is one of the sins that most easily beset me, put it into my head to ponder over the performance with the look-out of a critic, and to draw up forsooth a deep learned digest of strictures on a P. S. Have you ever seen an engraving composition, of which, in fact, until I read the published here some time ago from one of your book, I did not even know the first principles. poems, "O thou Pale Orb." If you have I own, Sir, that at first glance, several of your not, I shall have the pleasure of sending it to propositions startled me as paradoxical. That the martial clangor of a trumpet had something you. in it vastly more grand, heroic, and sublime, than the twingle twangle of a Jews' harp; that the delicate flexure of a rose-twig, when the half-blown flower is heavy with the tears of the dawn, was infinitely more beautiful and elegant than the upright stub of a burdock; and that from something innate and independent of all association of ideas;-these I had set down as WHY did you, my dear Sir, write to me in irrefragible, orthodox truths, until perusing your book shook my faith.-In short, Sir, except such a hesitating style, on the business of poor Euclid's Elements of Geometry, which I made Bruce? Don't I know, and have I not felt, the many ills, the peculiar ills that poetic flesh a shift to unravel by my father's fire-side, in the is heir to? You shall have your choice of all winter evening of the first season I held the the unpublished poems I have; and had your plough, I never read a book which gave me letter had my direction so as to have reached such a quantum of information, and added so much to my stock of ideas as your " Essays on me sooner (it only came to my hand this moment), I should have directly put you out of the Principles of Taste." One thing, Sir, you must forgive my mentioning as an uncommon suspense on the subject. I only ask, that some prefatory advertisement in the book, as well as merit in the work, I mean the language. To the subscription bills, may bear, that the publi- clothe abstract philosophy in elegance of style, cation is solely for the benefit of Bruce's mo- sounds something like a contradiction in terms; ther. I would not put it in the power of igno. but you have convinced me that they are quite rance to surmise, or malice to insinuate, that I compatible.

No. CLXV.

TO THE REV. G. BAIRD,
IN ANSWER TO THE FOREGOING.

I enclose you some poetic bagatelles of my clubbed a share in the work from mercenary late composition. The one in print is my first motives. Nor need you give me credit for any

remarkable generosity in my part of the busi-essay in the way of telling a tale.

mess. I have such a host of peccadilloes, failings, follies, and backslidings (any body but my

I am, Sir, ke.

pol might perhaps give some of them a worse

No. CLXVII.

TO DR. MOORE.

Ellisland, 28th February, 1791.

sona are beings of some other world; and however they may captivate the unexperienced, romantic fancy of a boy or a girl, they will ever, in proportion as we have made human nature our study, dissatisfy our riper minds.

I Do not know, Sir, whether you are a sub- As to my private concerns, I am going on, a Bcriber to Grose's Antiquities of Scotland. If mighty tax-gatherer before the Lord, and have you are, the enclosed poem will not be altoge- lately had the interest to get myself ranked on ther new to you. Captain Grose did me the the list of excise as a supervisor. I am not yet favour to send me a dozen copies of the proof-employed as such, but in a few years I shall fall sheet, of which this is one. Should you have into the file of supervisorship by seniority. I read the piece before, still this will answer the have had an immense loss in the death of the principal end I have in view it will give me Earl of Glencairn; the patron from whom all another opportunity of thanking you for all your my fame and good fortune took its rise. Indegoodness to the rustic bard; and also of show-pendent of my grateful attachment to him, ing you, that the abilities you have been pleas-which was indeed so strong that it pervaded ed to commend and patronize are still employed in the way you wish.

my very soul, and was entwined with the thread of my existence; so soon as the prince's friends The Elegy on Captain Henderson, is a tri- had got in (and every dog, you know, has his bute to the memory of a man I loved much. day), my getting forward in the excise would Poets have in this the same advantage as Ro- have been an easier business than otherwise it man Catholics; they can be of service to their will be. Though this was a consummation defriends after they have past that bourne where voutly to be wished, yet, thank Heaven, I can all other kindness ceases to be of any avail. live and rhyme as I am; and as to my boys, Whether, after all, either the one or the other poor little fellows! if I cannot place them on be of any real service to the dead, is, I fear, very as high an elevation in life as I could wish, I .problematical; but I am sure they are highly shall, if I am favoured so much of the Disposer gratifying to the living and as a very orthodox of events as to see that period, fix them on as text, I forget where in Scripture, says, "what- broad and independent a basis as possible. Asoever is not of faith, is sin;" so say I, what-mong the many wise adages which have been soever is not detrimental to society, and is of treasured up by our Scottish ancestors, this is positive enjoyment, is of God, the giver of all one of the best, Better be the head of the comgood things, and ought to be received and en- monalty, as the tail o' the gentry. joyed by his creatures with thankful delight. As almost all my religious tenets originate from my heart, I am wonderfully pleased with the idea, that I can still keep up a tender intercourse with the dearly beloved friend, or still more dearly beloved mistress, who is gone to the world of spirits.

The ballad on Queen Mary was begun while I was busy with Percy's Reliques of English Poetry. By the way, how much is every honest heart, which has a tincture of Caledonian prejudice, obliged to you for your glorious story of Buchanan and Targe. 'Twas an unequivocal proof of your loyal gallantry of soul, giving Targe the victory. I should have been mortified to the ground if you had not.

But I am got on a subject, which, however interesting to me, is of no manner of consequence to you; so I shall give you a short poem on the other page, and close this with assuring you how sincerely I have the honour to be, yours, &c.

(Beauteous Rose-Bud, p. 56.),

No. CLXVIII.

EXTRACT OF A LETTER

TO MR. CUNNINGHAM

I have just read over, once more of many times, your Zeluco. I marked with my pen12th March, 1791. cil, as I went along, every passage that pleased Ir the foregoing piece be worth your stricme particularly above the rest; and one, or tures, let me have them. For my own part, a two, I think, which, with humble deference, I thing that I have just composed, always appears am disposed to think unequal to the merits of through a double portion of that partial medium the book. I have sometimes thought to tran- in which an author will ever view his own scribe these marked passages, or at least so much works. I believe, in general, novelty has someof them as to point where they are, and send thing in it that inebriates the fancy, and not them to you. Original strokes that strongly unfrequently dissipates and fumes away like depict the human heart, is your and Fielding's other intoxication, and leaves the poor patient, province, beyond any other novelist I have ever as usual, with an aching heart. A striking perused. Richardson indeed might perhaps be instance of this might be adduced, in the revoexcepted; but, unhappily, his dramatis per-lution of many a hymeneal honeymoon. But

lest I sink into stupid prose, and so sacrilegious-which I send you; and God knows you may ly intrude on the office of my parish priest, I perhaps pay dear enough for it if you read it shall fill up the page in my own way, and give through. Not that this is my own opinion; but you another song of my late composition, which an author, by the time he has composed and will appear, perhaps, in Johnson's work, as well corrected his work, has quite pored away all as the former. his powers of critical discrimination.

You must know a beautiful Jacobite air, There'll never be peace till Jamie comes hame. When political combustion ceases to be the object of princes and patriots, it then, you know, becomes the lawful prey of historians and poets.

(See Songs, p. 236).

I can easily guess from my own heart, what you have felt on a late most melancholy event. God knows what I have suffered, at the loss of my best friend, my first, my dearest patron and benefactor; the man to whom I owe all that I am and have! I am gone into mourning for him, and with more sincerity of grief than I fear some will, who by nature's ties ought to feel on the occasion,

I will be exceedingly obliged to you indeed, If you like the air, and if the stanzas hit your to let me know the news of the noble family, fancy, you cannot imagine, my dear friend, how much you would oblige me, if, by the charms of your delightful voice, you would give my honest effusion to "the memory of joys that are past," to the few friends whom you indulge in that pleasure. But I have scribbled on 'till I hear the clock has intimated the near approach

how the poor mother and the two sisters support their loss. I had a packet of poetic bagatelles ready to send to Lady Betty, when I sav the fatal tidings in the newspaper. I see by the same channel that the honoured REMAINS of my noble patron, are designed to be brought to the family burial place. Dare I trouble you to let me know privately before the day of interment, "That hour_o' night's black arch the key- the crowd, to pay a tear to the last sight of my that I may cross the country, and steal among

of

stane."

This gentleman, the factor, or steward, of Burns's noble friend, Lord Glencairn, with a view to encourage a second edition of the poems, laid the volume before his lordship, with such an account of the rustic bard's Bituation and prospects as from his slender acquaintance with him he could furnish. The result, as communicated to Burns by Mr. Dalziel, is highly creditable to the character of Lord Glencairn. After reading the book, his lordship declared that its merits greatly exceeded his expectation, and he took it with him as a literary curiosity to Edinburgh, He repeated his

ever revered benefactor? It will oblige me beyond expression.

No. CL.

།

FROM DR. MOORE.

DEAR SIR, London, 29th March, 1791. Your letter of the 28th of February I recei ved only two days ago, and this day I had the pleasure of waiting on the Rev. Mr. Baird, st the Duke of Athole's, who had been so obliging as to transmit it to me, with the printed verses on Alloway Church, the Elegy on Captain Henderson, and the Epitaph. There are many poetical beauties in the former : what I partieslarly admire are the three striking similes from

"Or like the snow falls in the river," and the eight lines which begin with

"By this time he was cross the ford;" so exquisitely expressive of the superstitious impressions of the country. And the twenty-two

lines from

"Coffins stood round like open presses,"

wishes to be of service to Burns, and desired Mr. Dal ziel to inform him, that in patronizing the book, whe ering it with effect into the world, or treating with the booksellers, he would most willingly give every aid in his power; adding his request that Burns would take the earliest opportunity of letting him know in what way or manner he could best further his interests. He also expressed a wish to see some of the unpub lished manuscripts, with a view to establishing his cha racter with the world.-CROMER,

which, in my opinion, are equal to the ingre-land, I will let you know, that you may meet dients of Shakspeare's cauldron in Macbeth. me at your own house, or my friend Mrs. Ha milton's, or both.

As for the Elegy, the chief merit of it consists in the very graphical description of the objects belonging to the country in which the poet writes, and which none but a Scottish poet could have described, and none but a real poet, and a close observer of Nature, could have so described.

There is something original, and to me wonderfully pleasing, in the Epitaph.

Adieu, my dear Sir, &c.

No. CLI.

TO MRS. DUNLOP.

Ellisland, 11th April, 1791. * I AM once more able, my honoured friend, to return you, with my own hand, thanks for the many instances of your friendship, and particularly for your kind anxiety in this last disaster that my evil genius had in store for me. How

I remember you once hinted before, what you repeat in your last, that you had made some remarks on Zeluco, on the margin. I should be very glad to see them, and regret you did not send them before the last edition, which is just published. Pray transcribe them for me, I sin-ever, life is chequered-joy and sorrow-for cerely value your opinion very highly, and pray do not suppress one of those in which you censure the sentiment or expression. Trust me it will break no squares between us-I am not akin to the Bishop of Grenada.

I must now mention what has been on my mind for some time: I cannot help thinking you imprudent in scattering abroad so many copies of your verses. It is most natural to give a few to confidential friends, particularly to those who are connected with the subject, or who are perhaps themselves the subject, but this ought to be done under promise not to give other copies. Of the poem you sent me on Queen Mary, I refused every solicitation for copies, but I lately saw it in a newspaper. My motive for cautioning you on this subject is, that I wish to engage you to collect all your fugitive pieces, not already printed, and after they have been re-considered, and polished to the utmost of your power, I would have you publish them by another subscription; in promoting of which I will exert myself with plea

on Saturday morning last, Mrs. Burns made me a present of a fine boy; rather stouter but not so handsome as your god-son was at his time of life. Indeed I look on your little namesake to be my chef d'œuvre in that species of manufacture, as I look on Tam o' Shanter to be my standard performance in the poetical line. "Tis true, both the one and the other discover a spice of roguish waggery, that might, perhaps, be as well spared; but then they also show, in my o pinion, a force of genius, and a finishing polish, that I despair of ever excelling. Mrs. Burns is getting stout again, and laid as lustily about her to-day at breakfast, as a reaper from the corn-ridge. That is the peculiar privilege and blessing of our hale, sprightly damsels, that are bred among the hay and heather. We cannot hope for that highly polished mind, that charming delicacy of soul, which is found among the female world in the more elevated stations of life, and which is certainly by far the most bewitching charm in the famous cestus of Venus. It is indeed such an inestimable treasure, that where it can be had in its native heavenly purity, unstained by some one or other of the many shades of affectation, and unalloyed by some one or other of the many species of caprice, I declare to Heaven, I should think it cheaply purchased at the expense of every other earthly good! But as this angelic creature is, I am afraid, extremely rare in any station and rank of life, and totally denied to such an humIf you chance to write to my friend Mrs. ble one as mine; we meaner mortals must put Dunlop of Dunlop, I beg to be affectionately up with the next rank of female excellenceremembered to her. She must not judge of the as fine a figure and face we can produce as any warmth of my sentiments respecting her, by the rank of life whatever; rustic, native grace; unnumber of my letters; I hardly ever write a line affected modesty, and unsullied purity; nature's but on business: and I do not know that I mother-wit, and the rudiments of taste; a simshould have scribbled all this to you, but for the plicity of soul, unsuspicious of, because unac business part, that is, to instigate you to a new quainted with, the crooked ways of a selfish, publication; and to tell you that when you interested, disingenuous world;—and the dearthink you have a sufficient number to make a est charm of all the rest, a yielding sweetness volume, you should set your friends on getting of disposition, and a generous warmth of heart, subscriptions. I wish I could have a few hours grateful for love on our part, and ardently glowconversation with you-I have many things to ing with a more than equal return; these, say which I cannot write. If I ever go to Scot-, with a healthy frame, a sound vigorous consti

sure.

In your future compositions, I wish you would use the modern English. You have shown your powers in Scottish sufficiently. Although in certain subjects it gives additional zest to the humour, yet it is lost to the English; and why should you write only for a part of the island, when you can command the admiration of the whole.

tution, which your high ranks can scarcely ever | wilds of his deserts, rather than in civilized life, hope to enjoy, are the charms of lovely woman helplessly to tremble for a subsistence, precariin my humble walk of life.

This is the greatest effort my broken arm has yet made. Do, let me hear by first post, how cher petit Monsieur comes on with his smallpox. May Almighty Goodness preserve and restore him!

No. CLII.

ous as the caprice of a fellow-creature! Every man has his virtues, and no man is without bis failings; and curse on that privileged plaindealing of friendship, which in the hour of my calamity, cannot reach forth the helping hand without at the same time pointing out those failings, and apportioning them their share in procuring my present distress. My friends, for such the world calls ye, and such ye think yourselves to be, pass by virtues if you please, but do, also, spare my follies: the first will witness in my breast for themselves, and the last will give pain enough to the ingenuous mind with out you. And since deviating more or less from the paths of propriety and rectitude, must be incident to human nature, do thou, fortune, put it in my power, always from myself, and of myself, to bear the consequences of those errors. I do not want to be independent that of I may sin, but I want to be independent in my one or two powerful individuals of his em- sinning. ployers. He is accused of harshness to

TO MR. CUNNINGHAM.

11th June, 1791. LET me interest you, my dear Cunningham, in behalf of the gentleman, who waits on you with this. He is a Mr. Clarke, of Moffat, principal schoolmaster there, and is at present suffering severely under the

To return in this rambling letter to the subthat were placed under his care.ject I set out with, let me recommend my friend, God help the teacher, if a man of sensibility Mr. Clarke, to your acquaintance and good ofand genius, and such is my friend Clarke, fices; his worth entitles him to the one, and when a booby father presents him with his his gratitude will merit the other. I long much booby son, and insists on lighting up the rays to hear from you. Adieu.

of science, in a fellow's head whose skull is impervious and inaccessible by any other way than a positive fracture with a cudgel; a fellow whom, in fact, it savours of impiety to attempt making a scholar of, as he has been marked a blockhead in the book of fate, at the almighty fiat of his Creator.

I

but

No. CLIII.

FROM THE EARL OF BUCHAN.

The patrons of Moffat school are, the ministers, magistrates, and town-council of EdinDryburgh Abbey, 17th June, 1791. burgh, and as the business comes now before LORD BUCHAN has the pleasure to invite Mr. them, let me beg my dearest friend to do every Burns to make one at the coronation of the bust thing in his power to serve the interests of a of Thomson, on Ednam Hill, on the 22d of Sepman of genius and worth, and a man whom tember; for which day perhaps his muse may particularly respect and esteem. You know inspire an ode suited to the occasion. Suppose some good fellows among the magistracy and Mr. Burns should, leaving the Nith, go across council, the country, and meet the Tweed at the nearest particularly, you have much to say with a re- point from his farm-and, wandering along the verend gentleman to whom you have the ho-pastoral banks of Thomson's pure parent stream, nour of being very nearly related, and whom catch inspiration on the devious walk, till be his country and age have had the honour to finds Lord Buchan sitting on the ruins of Dryproduce. I need not name the historian of burgh. There the commendator will give him Charles V. I tell him, through the medium a hearty welcome, and try to light his lamp at of his nephew's influence, that Mr. Clarke is a the pure flame of native genius, upon the altar gentleman who will not disgrace even his pa- of Caledonian virtue. This poetical perambutronage. I know the merits of the cause tho-lation of the Tweed, is a thought of the late roughly, and say it, that my friend is falling a sacrifice to prejudiced ignorance, and

God help the children of dependence! Hated and persecuted by their enemies, and too often, alas! almost unexceptionably, received by their friends with disrespect and reproach, under the thin disguise of cold civility and humiliating advice. O to be a sturdy savage, stalking in the pride of his independence, amid the solitary

Dr. Robertson was uncle to Mr. Cunningham.

Sir Gilbert Elliot's and of Lord Minto's, followed out by his accomplished grandson, the present Sir Gilbert, who, having been with Lord Buchan lately, the project was renewed, and will, they hope, be executed in the manner proposed.