The Complete Works of Robert Burns Part 257

CCLx.x.x.

TO CAPTAIN ----.

[This excellent letter, obtained from Stewart of Dalguise, is copied from my kind friend Chambers's collection of Scottish songs.]

_Dumfries, 5th December, 1793._

SIR,

Heated as I was with wine yesternight, I was perhaps rather seemingly impertinent in my anxious wish to be honoured with your acquaintance.

You will forgive it: it was the impulse of heart-felt respect. "He is the father of the Scottish county reform, and is a man who does honour to the business, at the same time that the business does honour to him," said my worthy friend Glenriddel to somebody by me who was talking of your coming to this county with your corps. "Then," I said, "I have a woman's longing to take him by the hand, and say to him, 'Sir, I honour you as a man to whom the interests of humanity are dear, and as a patriot to whom the rights of your country are sacred.'"

In times like these, Sir, when our commoners are barely able by the glimmer of their own twilight understandings to scrawl a frank, and when lords are what gentlemen would be ashamed to be, to whom shall a sinking country call for help? To the independent country gentleman.

To him who has too deep a stake in his country not to be in earnest for her welfare; and who in the honest pride of a man can view with equal contempt the insolence of office and the allurements of corruption.

I mentioned to you a Scots ode or song I had lately composed, and which I think has some merit. Allow me to enclose it. When I fall in with you at the theatre, I shall be glad to have your opinion of it.

Accept it, Sir, as a very humble but most sincere tribute of respect from a man, who, dear as he prizes poetic fame, yet holds dearer an independent mind.

I have the honour to be,

R. B.

CCLx.x.xI.

TO MRS. RIDDEL,

_Who was about to bespeak a Play one evening at the Dumfries Theatre._

[This clever lady, whom Burns so happily applies the words of Thomson, died in the year 1820, at Hampton Court.]

I am thinking to send my "Address" to some periodical publication, but it has not yet got your sanction, so pray look at it.

As to the Tuesday's play, let me beg of you, my dear madam, to give us, "The Wonder, a Woman keeps a Secret!" to which please add, "The Spoilt Child"--you will highly oblige me by so doing.

Ah, what an enviable creature you are! There now, this cursed, gloomy, blue-devil day, you are going to a party of choice spirits--

"To play the shapes Of frolic fancy, and incessant form Those rapid pictures, a.s.sembled train Of fleet ideas, never join'd before, Where lively _wit_ excites to gay surprise; Or folly-painting _humour_, grave himself, Calls laughter forth, deep-shaking every nerve."

THOMSON.

But as you rejoice with them that do rejoice, do also remember to weep with them that weep, and pity your melancholy friend.

R. B.

CCLx.x.xII.

TO A LADY.

IN FAVOUR OF A PLAYER'S BENEFIT.

[The name of the lady to whom this letter is addressed, has not transpired.]

_Dumfries, 1794._

MADAM,

You were so very good as to promise me to honour my friend with your presence on his benefit night. That night is fixed for Friday first: the play a most interesting one! "The Way to Keep Him." I have the pleasure to know Mr. G. well. His merit as an actor is generally acknowledged. He has genius and worth which would do honour to patronage: he is a poor and modest man; claims which from their very _silence_ have the more forcible power on the generous heart. Alas, for pity! that from the indolence of those who have the good things of this life in their gift, too often does brazen-fronted importunity s.n.a.t.c.h that boon, the rightful due of retiring, humble want! Of all the qualities we a.s.sign to the author and director of nature, by far the most enviable is--to be able "to wipe away all tears from all eyes." O what insignificant, sordid wretches are they, however chance may have loaded them with wealth, who go to their graves, to their magnificent _mausoleums_, with hardly the consciousness of having made one poor honest heart happy!

But I crave your pardon, Madam; I came to beg, not to preach.

R. B.

CCLx.x.xIII.

TO THE EARL OF BUCHAN,

_With a Copy of Bruce's Address to his Troops at Bannockburn._

[This fantastic Earl of Buchan died a few years ago: when he was put into the family burial-ground, at Dryburgh, his head was laid the wrong way, which Sir Walter Scott said was little matter, as it had never been quite right in his lifetime.]

_Dumfries, 12th January, 1794._

MY LORD,