TO CAPTN. G1 ON BEING ASKED WHY I WAS NOT TO BE OF THE PARTY WITH HIM AND HIS BROTHER K-NM-RE AT SYME'S. BY ROBERT BURNS. Dost ask, dear Captain, why from Syme I have no invitation, When well he knows he has with him Is it because I love to toast, Is't lest with bawdy jests I bore, Is it a fear I should avow No! Syme (but this is entre nous) In vain Conjecture thus would flit Yet must I still the sort deplore With you and noble Kenmure. This poem, a production of the Dumfries period, was printed for the first time in the "Large-Paper Edition " of The complete writings of Robert Burns, recently published in ten volumes by the Houghton Mifflin Company of Boston and New York (for the United States of America) and by the Waverley Book Company of London (for Great Britain), and reviewed in this issue of the Burns Chronicle. It appears to exist in only one manuscript, which was included (Lot No. 136) in a great "collection of autograph letters" sold at auction in London by Messrs. Puttick & Simpson on 2nd-4th May, 1861, and was purchased by one named "Bell" for sixteen shillings. Though the fact is not stated in the printed catalogue of the sale, most-if not all-of the Burns items in that collection came from the estate of Dr. James Currie, biographer and editor of the poet. The manuscript of the poem " To Captain Gordon " is now preserved in the Burns Cottage Museum at Alloway; and the Executive of the Burns Federation here records its thanks to the Trustees of that Institution and to their Hon. Secretary-Lieut.-Colonel T. C. Dunlop for their kind permission to print the verses, and also four letters on pp. 7-11. NOTES. 1. Captain Adam Gordon, of the 81st Regiment; his (first) wife was Harriet Davies, sister of Deborah Duff Davies, theBonie wee thing "" of Burns's song. 2. "Kenmure": John Gordon of Kenmure, elder brother of Captain Adam Gordon; in 1824 was restored to the "Honors, Dignities and Titles of Viscount Kenmure "; entertained Burns and John Syme at Kenmure Castle for three days in July, 1793. (See Syme's account of their tour in Galloway.) LETTERS OF ROBERT BURNS. In the 1927 issue of the Burns Chronicle were published ten letters written by Burns which either had not previously been printed or had been printed only in part. In this issue are given eight other letters of the poet which are little known: six of these were printed for the first time in the Large-Paper Edition" of The complete writings of Robert Burns; one is reprinted from a periodical publication; the eighth now appears in print for the first time. A letter from "Clarinda " to Sylvander" which has lately come to light is added. 66 Sir, 66 I. TO JOHN BALLANTINE, AYR. [Mauchline, October, 1786?] I am no stranger to your friendly offices in my Publication, and had that been the only debt I owed you, I would long since have acknowledged it, as the next Merchant's phrase, dressed up a little, would have served my purpose; but there is a certain cordial, friendly welcome in my reception when I have the honor of meeting with you-an apparent heart-warm, honest joy at having it in your power to befriend a man whose abilities you were pleased to honor with some degree of applause-befriending him, too, in the very way most agreeable to his feelings, handing him up to that dear-lov'd notice of the world-this, Sir, I assure you, with brimful eyes this moment, I have often wished to acknowledge, but was as often at a loss for expression suited to the state of my heart. God knows, I know very little of Great folks, and I hope He can be my witness that for meer Greatness I as little care. Worth, in whatever circumstances, I prize, but Worth conjoined with Greatness has a certain irresistible power of attracting esteem. I have taken the liberty to inscribe the enclosed Poem to you. I am the more at ease about this as it is not the anxiously served-up address of the Poet wishing to conciliate a liberal Patron, but the honest sincerity of heartfelt Gratitude. Sir, II. TO [JOHN BALLANTINE, AYR?] [Edinburgh, January, 1788.] I have been wandering for some time past, like Satan in the first chapter of the book of Job, "Going to and fro in the earth, and walking up and down in it." Some weeks bypast, indeed, I have been a cripple in one of my legs, owing to a fall by the drunken stupidity of a coachman. I am got a good deal better, but can walk little yet without my crutches. "It is an ill-wind blows nobody good": the witlings of my acquaintance have made much of "a Poet on stilts." My brother, the bearer of this, has just now written me to assist him a little in money matters. I cannot stir out, not even in a chair, to raise as much as he wants, and without my personal presence I could not so well do it. That account for my copies, in your or Mr. Cowan's hands, you will please give it him. Should he want half a dozen pounds more, dare I ask you to accommodate him? I shall not on this side eternity forget a pecuniary offer you once made me, when it was dangerous to accept it. So soon as I can walk I return to Ayrshire, and I think I shall walk in ten days or a fortnight at farthest. I beg you will take the trouble to present my most respectful compliments to the Patron of my virgin Muse, Mr. Aiken. I was with an old, worthy friend of his, or rather he was with me, last night, Mr. Ainslie at Dunse; and on my telling him that Andrew Aiken was in Liverpool, he mentioned two gentlemen there, John Lawson, Esq. of Carnatic, and Mr. Clarke, an eminent merchant, who are Mr. Ainslie's particular friends; and if introducing Andrew to them would do him any service, Mr. Ainslie begs his old friend Mr. Aiken will let him know. Mr. Ainslie's son is my most intimate friend here, so the channel is easy, or Mr. Ainslie will be found III. TO JOHN BALLANTINE, AYR. [March, 1791?] Sir, While here I sit, sad and solitary, by the side of a fire in a little country inn, and drying my wet clothes, in pops a poor fellow of a sodger and tells me he is going to Ayr. By Heavens, say I to myself, with a tide of good spirits which the magic of that sound, "Auld toon o' Ayr," conjured up, I will send my last song to Mr. Ballantine. Here it is— Ye flowery banks o' bonie Doon, Etc. Etc. IV. TO MR. DAVID BLAIR, BIRMINGHAM. Dumfries, 25th August, 1795. The following, my dear Sir, is the history of Lord Balmerino's durk, which you now have. In the year 1745 a Bailie in Glasgow (I once knew his name, but |