gain your favour by such detestable practices. | approach, have made an impression on my If you will be so good, and so generous, as to admit me for your partner, your companion, your bosom friend through life, there is nothing on this side of eternity shall give me greater transport; but I shall never think of purchasing your hand by any arts unworthy of a man, and, I will add, of a Christian, There is one thing, my dear, which I earnestly request of you, and it is this, that you would soon either put an end to my hopes by a peremptory refusal, or cure me of my fears by a generous consent. heart that I do not think the world can ever efface. My imagination has fondly flattered myself with a wish, I dare not say it ever reached a hope, that possibly I might one day call you mine. I had formed the most delightful images, and my fancy fondly brooded over them; but now I am wretched for the loss of what I really had no right to expect. I must now think no more of you as a mistress; still I presume to ask to be admitted as a friend. As such I wish to be allowed to wait on you; and as I expect to remove in a few days a little further off, and you, I suppose, will soon leave this place, I wish to see or hear from you soon: and if an expression should perhaps escape me, rather too warm for friendship, I hope you will pardon it in, my dear Miss-(pardon me the dear expression for once) * * * R. B. NO. VI. TO MR. JAMES BURNESS, WRITER, MONtrose. (1) Lochlea, 21st June, 1783. DEAR SIR-My father received your favour of the 10th current, and as he has been for some months very poorly in health, and is in his own opinion (and, indeed, in almost every body's else) in a dying condition, he has only, with great difficulty, written a few farewell lines to each of his brothers-in-law. For this melancholy reason, I now hold the pen for him to thank you for your kind letter, and to assure you, Sir, that it shall not be my fault if my father's correspondence in the north die with him. My brother writes to John Caird, and to him I must refer you for the news of our family. I OUGHT, in good manners, to have acknowledged the receipt of your letter before this time, but my heart was so shocked with the contents of it, that I can scarcely yet collect my thoughs so as to write to you on the subject. I will not attempt to describe what I felt on receiving your letter. I read it over and over, again and again, and though it was in the politest language of refusal, still it was peremptory: "you were sorry you could not make me a return, but you wish me"-what, without you, I never can obtain"you wish me all kind of happiness." It would be weak and unmanly to say that without you I never can be happy; but sure I am, that sharing life with you would have given it a relish, that, wanting you, I can-oatmeal, 17d. and 18d. per peck, and not never taste. Your uncommon personal advantages, and your superior good sense, do not so much strike me these, possibly, may be met with in a few instances in others; but that amiable goodness, that tender feminine softness, that endearing sweetness of disposition, with all the charming offspring of a warm feeling heart-these I never again expect to meet with, in such a degree, in this world. All these charming qualities, heightened by an education much beyond any thing I have ever met in any woman I ever dared to I shall only trouble you with a few particulars relative to the wretched state of this country. Our markets are exceedingly high to be got even at that price. We have indeed been pretty well supplied with quantities of white peas from England and elsewhere, but that resource is likely to fail us, and what will become of us then, particularly the very poorest sort, Heaven only knows. This country, till of late, was flourishing incredibly in the manufacture of silk, lawn, and carpet-weaving; and we are still carrying on a good deal in that way, but much reduced from what it was. We had also a fine trade in the shoe way, but now entirely ruined, and hundreds driven to a NO. VII. TO MR. JAMES BURNESS, MON TROSE. Lochiea, 17th February, 1784. DEAR COUSIN.-I would have returned you my thanks for your kind favour of the 13th of December sooner, had it not been that I waited to give you an account of that melancholy event, which, for some time past, we have from day to day expected. On the 13th current I lost the best of fathers. Though, to be sure, we have had long warning of the impending stroke, still the feelings of nature claim their part, and I cannot recollect the tender endearments and parental lessons of the best of friends and ablest of instructors, without feeling what perhaps the calmer dictates of reason would partly condemn. starving condition on account of it. Farming is also at a very low ebb with us. Our lands, generally speaking, are mountainous and barren; and our landholders, full of ideas of farming gathered from the English and the Lothians, and other rich soils in Scotland, make no allowance for the odds of the quality of land, and consequently stretch us much beyond what in the event we will be found able to pay. We are also much at a loss for want of proper methods in our improvements of farming. Necessity compels us to leave our old schemes, and few of us have opportunities of being well informed in new ones. In short, my dear Sir, since the unfortunate beginning of this American war, and its as unfortunate conclusion, this country has been, and still is, decaying very fast. Even in higher life, a couple of our Ayrshire noblemen, and the major part of our knights and squires, are all insolvent. A miserable job A miserable job of a Douglas, Heron, and Co.'s bank, which I hope my father's friends in your country no doubt you have heard of, has undone will not let their connexion in this place die numbers of them; and imitating English and with him. For my part I shall ever with French, and other foreign luxuries and fop-nexion with those who were allied by the ties pleasure, with pride, acknowledge my conperies, has ruined as many more. There is a great trade of smuggling carried on along our coasts, which, however destructive to the interests of the kingdom at large, certainly enriches this corner of it, but too often at the expense of our morals. However, it enables individuals to make, at least for a time, a splendid appearance; but Fortune, as is usual with her when she is uncommonly lavish of her favours, is generally even with them at the last: and happy were it for numbers of them if she would leave them no worse than when she found them. My mother sends you a small present of a cheese; 'tis but a very little one, as our last year's stock is sold off; but if you could fix on any correspondent in Edinburgh or Glasgow, we would send you a proper one in the season. Mrs. Black promises to take the cheese under her care so far, and then to send it to you by the Stirling carrier. I shall conclude this long letter with assuring you that I shall be very happy to hear from you, or any of our friends in your country, when opportunity serves. My father sends you, probably for the last time in this world, his warmest wishes for your welfare and happiness; and my mother and the rest of the family desire to enclose their kind compliments to you, Mrs. Burness, and the rest of your family, along with those of, dear Sir, your affectionate cousin, R. B. of blood and friendship to a man whose memory I shall ever honour and revere. I expect, therefore, my dear Sir, you will not neglect any opportunity of letting me hear from you, which will very much oblige, my dear cousin, yours sincerely, NO. VIII. R. B. TO MR. JAMES BURNESS, MON. TROSE. Mossgiel, August, 1784. A We have been surprised with one of the most extraordinary phenomena in the moral world, which, I dare say, has happened in the course of this half century. We have had a party of Presbytery relief, as they call themselves, for some time in this country. pretty thriving society of them has been in the burgh of Irvine for some years past, till about two years ago a Mrs. Buchan from Glasgow came among them, and began to spread some fanatical notions of religion among them, and, in a short time, made many converts; and among others their preacher, Mr White, who, upon that account, has been suspended and formally deposed by his brethren. He continued, however, to preach in private to his party, and was supported, both he and their spiritual mother, as they affect to call old Buchan, by the contributions of the rest, several of whom. sun. On these accounts, he refuses sending me with Smith; but a vessel sails from Greenock the 1st of September, right for the place of my destination. The captain of her is an intimate friend of Mr. Gavin Hamilton's, and as good a fellow as heart could wish: with him I am destined to go. Where I shall shelter I know not, but I hope to weather the storm. Perish the drop of blood of mine that fears them! I know their worst, and am prepared to meet it:I'll laugh, and sing, and shake my leg, As lang's I dow. were in good circumstances; till in spring | in consequence of hard travelling in the last, the populace rose and mobbed Mrs. Buchan, and put her out of the town; on which all her followers voluntarily quitted the place likewise, and with such precipitation, that many of them never shut their doors behind them; one left a washing on the green, another a cow bellowing at the crib without food, or any body to mind her, and after several stages, they are fixed at present in the neighbourhood of Dumfries. Their tenets are a strange jumble of enthusiastic jargon; among others, she pretends to give them the Holy Ghost by breathing on them, which she does with postures and practices that are scandalously indecent. They have likewise disposed of all their effects, and hold a community of goods, and live nearly an idle life, carrying on a great farce of pretended devotion in barns and woods, where they lodge and lie all together, and hold likewise a community of women, as it is another of their tenets that they can commit no moral sin. I am personally acquainted with most of them, and I can assure you the above mentioned are facts. This, my dear Sir, is one of the many instances of the folly of leaving the guidance of sound reason and common sense in matters of religion. 'On Thursday morning, if you can muster as much self-denial as to be out of bed about seven o'clock, I shall see you as I ride through to Cumnock. After all, Heaven bless the sex! I feel there is still happiness for me among them :— Oh woman, lovely woman! Heaven designed you To temper man!—we had been brutes with- NO. X. BURGH. (2) Mossgiel, February 17, 1786. Whenever we neglect or despise these sacred monitors, the whimsical notions of a TO MR. JOHN RICHMOND, EDINperturbated brain are taken for the immediate influences of the Deity, and the wildest fanaticism, and the most inconstant absurdities, will meet with abettors and converts. Nay, I have often thought, that the more out-of-the-way and ridiculous the fancies are, if once they are sanctified under the sacred name of religion, the unhappy mistaken votaries are the more firmly glued to them, R. B. NO. IX. MY DEAR SIR.-I have not time at present to upbraid you present to upbraid you for your silence and neglect; I shall only say I received yours with great pleasure. I have enclosed you a piece of rhyming ware for your perusal. I have been very busy with the muses since I saw you, and have composed, among several others:-The Ordination, a poem on Mr. M'Kinlay's being called to Kilmarnock; Scotch Drink, a poem; The Cotter's Saturday Night; An Address to the Devil, &c. I. TO MR. JAMES SMITII, MAUCH- have likewise completed my poem on the LINE. Mossgiel, Monday Morning, 1786. MY DEAR SIR.-I went to Dr. Douglas yesterday, fully resolved to take the opportunity of Captain Smith; but I found the Doctor with a Mr. and Mrs. White, both Jamaicans, and they have deranged my plans altogether. They assure him that to send me from Savannah la Mar to Port Antonio, will cost my master, Charles Douglas, upwards of fifty pounds, besides running the risk of throwing myself into a pleuritic fever, Dogs, but have not shown it to the world. My chief patron now is Mr. Aiken in Ayr, who is pleased to express great approbation of my works. Be so good as send me Fergusson, by Connel, and I will remit you the money. I have no news to acquaint you with about Mauchline; they are just going on in the old way. I have some very important news with respect to myself, not the most agreeable-news that I am sure you cannot guess, but I shall give you the particulars another time. I am extremely happy with Smith; he is the only friend I have now in Mauchline. I can scarcely forgive your long neglect of me, and I beg you will NO. XII. let me hear from you regularly by Connel. TO MR. ROBERT MUIR, KILMAR If you would act your part as a friend, I am sure neither good nor bad fortune should strange or alter me. Excuse haste, as I got your's but yesterday. I am, my dear Sir, your's, ROBERT Burns. NO. XI. TO MR. JOHN KENNEDY. Mossgiel, 3rd March, 1786, SIR.I have done myself the pleasure of complying with your request in sending you my Cottager. If you have a leisure minute, I should be glad if you would copy it and return me either the original or the transcript, as I have not a copy of it by me, and I have a friend who wishes to see it. Now, Kennedy, if foot or horse E'er bring you in by Mauchline Corse (3), Lord, man, there's lasses there wad force A hermit's fancy; NOCK. Mossgiel, 20th March, 1786. the pleasure of seeing you as you returned DEAR SIR.-I am heartily sorry I had not through Mauchline; but as I was engaged, I could not be in town before the evening. I here enclose you my "Scotch Drink," and "may the follow" with a blessing for your edification. I hope, some time before we hear the gowk, to have the pleasure of seeing you at Kilmarnock, when I intend we shall have a gill between us in a mutchkinstoup, which will be a great comfort and consolation to, dear Sir, your humble servant, ROBERT BUrns. NO. XIII. TO MR. AIKEN. Mossgiel, 3rd April, 1786. DEAR SIR.-I received your kind letter with double pleasure on account of the And down the gate, in faith, they're worse, second flattering instance of Mrs. C.'s notice And mair unchancy. But, as I'm sayin', please step to Dow's, And if we dinna haud a bouze, It's no I like to sit and swallow, Then like a swine to puke and wallow; But gie me just a true good fallow, Wi' right engine, And spunkie ance to make us mellow, Now, if you're ane o' warld's folk, But if, as I'm informed weel, Come, Sir, here's tae you! Hae, there's my haun', I wiss you weel, and approbation. I assure you I Turn out the burnt side o' my skin, as the fainous Ramsay, of jingling memory, says, at such a patroness. Present her my most grateful acknowledgements, in your very best manner of telling truth. I have inscribed the following stanza on the blank leaf of Miss More's work : Thou flattering mark of friendship kind, The dear, the beauteous donor. But kind still, I mind still, A friend above the Lift. My proposals for publishing I am just going to send to press. I expect to hear from you by the first opportunity. I am, ever dear Sir, your's, ROBERT BUrns. NO. XIV. TO MR. M'WHINNIE, WRITER, AYR, Mossgiel, 17th April, 1786. It is injuring some hearts, those hearts that elegantly bear the impression of the good Creator, to say to them you give them the trouble of obliging a friend; for this reason, I only tell you that I gratify my own feelings in requesting your friendly offices with respect to the enclosed, because I know it will gratify yours to assist me in it to the utmost of your power. I have sent you four copies, as I have no less than eight dozen, which is a great deal more than I shall ever need. Be sure to remember a poor poet militant in your prayers. He looks forward with fear and trembling to that, to him, important moment which stamps the die with-withwith, perhaps, the eternal disgrace of, my dear Sir, your humble, afflicted, tormented, ROBERT BUrns. NO. XV. TO MR. JOHN KENNEDY. Mossgiel, 20th April, 1786. you half a sheet of them. I must consult you, first opportunity, on the propriety of sending my quondam friend, Mr. Aiken, a copy. If he is now reconciled to my character as an honest man, I would do it with all my soul; but I would not be beholden to the noblest being ever God created, if he imagined me to be a rascal. Apropos, old Mr. Armour prevailed with him to mutilate that unlucky paper yesterday. Would you believe it?-though I had not a hope, nor even a wish, to make her mine after her conduct, yet, when he told me the names were all out of the paper, my heart died within me, and he cut my veins with the news. Perdition seize her falshood. NO. XVII. R. B. TO MR. DAVID BRICE. (5) Mossgiel, June 12, 1786. Dear Brice.-I received your message by G. Paterson, and as I am not very strong at present, I just write to let you know that there is such a worthless, rhyming reprobate, as your humble servant, still in the land of the living, though I can scarcely say in the place of hope. I have no news SIR. By some neglect in Mr. Hamilton, I to tell you that will give me any pleasure to did not hear of your kind request for a sub-mention, or you to hear. scription paper till this day. I will not attempt any acknowledgement for this, nor the manner in which I see your name in Mr. Hamilton's subscription list. Allow me only to say, Sir, I feel the weight of the debt. I have here, likewise, enclosed a small piece, the very latest of my productions. (4) I am a good deal pleased with some sentiments myself, as they are just the native querulous feelings of a heart, which, as the elegantly melting Gray says, "melancholy has marked out for her own.' Poor ill-advised, ungrateful Armour came home on Friday last. (6) You have heard all the particulars of that affair, and a black affair it is. What she thinks of her conduct now I don't know; one thing I do knowshe has made me completely miserable. Never man loved, or rather adored, a woman more than I did her; and, to confess a truth between you and me, I do still love her to distraction after all, though I won't tell her so if I were to see her, which I don't want to do. My poor dear unfortunate Jean! how happy have I been in thy arms! It is not the losing her that makes me so unhappy, but for her sake I feel most severely: I foresee she is in the road to, I am afraid, eternal ruin. May Almighty God forgive her ingratitude and perjury to me, as I from my very soul forgive her; and may his grace be with her and bless her in all her future life! I can have no nearer idea of the place of eternal punishment than what I have felt in my own breast on her account. I have tried often to forget her; I have run into all kinds of dissipation and riots, mason-meetings, drinking-matches, and other mischief, to drive her out of my head, but all in vain. And now |