The Complete Works of Robert Burns Part 232

Even the fairest of his virtues are against him. That independent spirit, and that ingenuous modesty, qualities inseparable from a n.o.ble mind, are, with the million, circ.u.mstances not a little disqualifying.

What pleasure is in the power of the fortunate and the happy, by their notice and patronage, to brighten the countenance and glad the heart of such depressed youth! I am not so angry with mankind for their deaf economy of the purse:--the goods of this world cannot be divided without being lessened--but why be a n.i.g.g.ard of that which bestows bliss on a fellow-creature, yet takes nothing from our own means of enjoyment? We wrap ourselves up in the cloak of our own better fortune, and turn away our eyes, lest the wants and woes of our brother-mortals should disturb the selfish apathy of our souls!

I am the worst hand in the world at asking a favour. That indirect address, that insinuating implication, which, without any positive request, plainly expresses your wish, is a talent not to be acquired at a plough-tail. Tell me then, for you can, in what periphrasis of language, in what circ.u.mvolution of phrase, I shall envelope, yet not conceal this plain story.--"My dear Mr. Tait, my friend Mr. Duncan, whom I have the pleasure of introducing to you, is a young lad of your own profession, and a gentleman of much modesty, and great worth.

Perhaps it may be in your power to a.s.sist him in the, to him, important consideration of getting a place; but at all events, your notice and acquaintance will be a very great acquisition to him; and I dare pledge myself that he will never disgrace your favour."

You may possibly be surprised, Sir, at such a letter from me; 'tis, I own, in the usual way of calculating these matters, more than our acquaintance ent.i.tles me to; but my answer is short:--Of all the men at your time of life, whom I knew in Edinburgh, you are the most accessible on the side on which I have a.s.sailed you. You are very much altered indeed from what you were when I knew you, if generosity point the path you will not tread, or humanity call to you in vain.

As to myself, a being to whose interest I believe you are still a well-wisher; I am here, breathing at all times, thinking sometimes, and rhyming now and then. Every situation has its share of the cares and pains of life, and my situation I am persuaded has a full ordinary allowance of its pleasures and enjoyments.

My best compliments to your father and Miss Tait. If you have an opportunity, please remember me in the solemn league and covenant of friends.h.i.+p to Mrs. Lewis Hay. I am a wretch for not writing her; but I am so hackneyed with self-accusation in that way, that my conscience lies in my bosom with scarce the sensibility of an oyster in its sh.e.l.l. Where is Lady M'Kenzie? wherever she is, G.o.d bless her! I likewise beg leave to trouble you with compliments to Mr. Wm.

Hamilton; Mrs. Hamilton and family; and Mrs. Chalmers, when you are in that country. Should you meet with Miss Nimmo, please remember me kindly to her.

R. B.

CC.

TO ----.

[This letter contained the Kirk's Alarm, a satire written to help the cause of Dr. M'Gill, who recanted his heresy rather than be removed from his kirk.]

_Ellisland, 1790._

DEAR SIR,

Whether in the way of my trade I can be of any service to the Rev.

Doctor, is I fear very doubtful. Ajax's s.h.i.+eld consisted, I think, of seven bull-hides and a plate of bra.s.s, which altogether set Hector's utmost force at defiance. Alas! I am not a Hector, and the worthy Doctor's foes are as securely armed as Ajax was. Ignorance, superst.i.tion, bigotry, stupidity, malevolence, self-conceit, envy--all strongly bound in a ma.s.sy frame of brazen impudence. Good G.o.d, Sir! to such a s.h.i.+eld, humour is the peck of a sparrow, and satire the pop-gun of a school-boy. Creation-disgracing scelerats such as they, G.o.d only can mend, and the devil only can punish. In the comprehending way of Caligula, I wish they all had but one neck. I feel impotent as a child to the ardour of my wishes! O for a withering curse to blast the germins of their wicked machinations! O for a poisonous tornado, winged from the torrid zone of Tartarus, to sweep the spreading crop of their villainous contrivances to the lowest h.e.l.l!

R. B.

CCI.

TO MRS. DUNLOP.

[The poet wrote out several copies of Tam o' Shanter and sent them to his friends, requesting their criticisms: he wrote few poems so universally applauded.]

_Ellisland, November, 1790._

"As cold waters to a thirsty soul, so is good news from a far country."

Fate has long owed me a letter of good news from you, in return for the many tidings of sorrow which I have received. In this instance I most cordially obey the apostle--"Rejoice with them that do rejoice"--for me, _to sing_ for joy, is no new thing; but _to preach_ for joy, as I have done in the commencement of this epistle, is a pitch of extravagant rapture to which I never rose before.

I read your letter--I literally jumped for joy--How could such a mercurial creature as a poet lumpishly keep his seat on the receipt of the best news from his best friend. I seized my gilt-headed w.a.n.gee rod, an instrument indispensably necessary in my left hand, in the moment of inspiration and rapture; and stride, stride--quick and quicker--out skipt I among the broomy banks of Nith to muse over my joy by retail. To keep within the bounds of prose was impossible. Mrs.

Little's is a more elegant, but not a more sincere compliment to the sweet little fellow, than I, extempore almost, poured out to him in the following verses:--

Sweet flow'ret, pledge o' meikle love And ward o' mony a prayer, What heart o' stane wad thou na move, Sae helpless, sweet, an' fair.

November hirples o'er the lea Chill on thy lovely form; But gane, alas! the shelt'ring tree Should s.h.i.+eld thee frae the storm.

I am much flattered by your approbation of my _Tam o' Shanter_, which you express in your former letter; though, by the bye, you load me in that said letter with accusations heavy and many; to all which I plead, _not guilty_! Your book is, I hear, on the road to reach me. As to printing of poetry, when you prepare it for the press, you have only to spell it right, and place the capital letters properly: as to the punctuation, the printers do that themselves.

I have a copy of _Tam o' Shanter_ ready to send you by the first opportunity: it is too heavy to send by post.

I heard of Mr. Corbet lately. He, in consequence of your recommendation, is most zealous to serve me. Please favour me soon with an account of your good folks; if Mrs. H. is recovering, and the young gentleman doing well.

R. B.

CCII.

TO LADY W. M. CONSTABLE.

[The present alluded to was a gold snuff-box, with a portrait of Queen Mary on the lid.]

_Ellisland, 11th January, 1791._

MY LADY,

Nothing less than the unlucky accident of having lately broken my right arm, could have prevented me, the moment I received your ladys.h.i.+p's elegant present by Mrs. Miller, from returning you my warmest and most grateful acknowledgments. I a.s.sure your ladys.h.i.+p, I shall set it apart--the symbols of religion shall only be more sacred.

In the moment of poetic composition, the box shall be my inspiring genius. When I would breathe the comprehensive wish of benevolence for the happiness of others, I shall recollect your ladys.h.i.+p; when I would interest my fancy in the distresses incident to humanity, I shall remember the unfortunate Mary.

R. B.

CCIII.

TO WILLIAM DUNBAR, W.S.

[This letter was in answer to one from Dunbar, in which the witty colonel of the Crochallan Fencibles supposed the poet had been translated to Elysium to sing to the immortals, as his voice had not been beard of late on earth.]