No. CCLXIII. TO COLONEL W. DUNBAR.* I AM not gone to Elysium, most noble Colonel, but am still here in this sub-lunary world, serving my God by propagating his image, and honouring my king by begetting him loyal subjects. Many happy returns of the season await my friend! May the thorns of care never beset his path! May peace be an inmate of his bosom, and rapture a frequent visiter of his soul! May the blood - hounds of misfortune never trace his steps, nor the screech-owl of sorrow alarm his dwelling! May enjoyment tell thy hours, and pleasure number thy days, thou friend of the Bard! Blessed be he that blesseth thee, and cursed be he that curseth thee! R. B. I ENCLOSE you some copies of a couple of political ballads; one of which, I believe, you have never seen.1 Would to Heaven I could make you master of as many votes in the Stewartry-but "Who does the utmost that he can Does well, acts nobly-angels could no more." In order to bring my humble efforts to bear with more effect on the foc, I have privately printed a good many copies of both ballads, and have sent them among friends all about the country. To pillory on Parnassus the rank reprobation of character, the utter dereliction of all principle, in a profligate junto which has not only outraged virtue, but violated common decency; which, spurning even hypocrisy as paltry iniquity below their daring;-to unmask their flagitiousness to the broadest day-to deliver such over to their merited fate-is surely not merely innocent, but laudable; is not only propriety, but virtue. You have already, as your auxiliary, the sober detestation of mankind on the heads of your opponents; and I swear by the lyre of Thalia to muster on your side all the votaries of honest laughter, and fair, canI did ridicule ! * [William Dunbar was one of the Edinburgh friends of the Poet; and Colonel of the Crochallan Fencibles-a Club of choice spirits, whose motto was wit and wine.] + [He is sometimes styled "Heron of Kerroughtree," but properly as above.] [For these ballads, which related to Mr. Heron's contest I am extremely obliged to you for your kind mention of my interests in a letter which Mr. Syme shewed me. At present, my situation in life must be in a great measure stationary, at The statement least for two or three years. is this-I am on the supervisor's list, and, as we come on there by precedency, in two or three years I shall be at the head of that list, and be appointed of course. Then, a FRIEND might be of service to me in getting me into a place of the kingdom which I would like. A supervisor's income varies from about a hundred and twenty to two hundred a year; but the business is an incessant drudgery, and would be nearly a complete bar to every species of literary pursuit. The moment I am appointed supervisor, in the common routine, I may be nominated on the collector's list; and this is always a business purely of political patronage. A collectorship varies much, from better than two hundred a year, to near a thousand. They also come forward by precedency on the list; and have, besides a handsome income, a life of complete leisure. A life of literary leisure, with a decent competency, is the summit of my wishes. It would be the prudish affectation of silly pride in me to say that I do not need, or would not be indebted to, a political friend; at the same time, Sir, I by no means lay my affairs before you thus to hook my dependent situation on your benevolence. If, in my progress of life, an opening should occur where the good offices of a gentleman of your public character and political consequence might bring me forward, I shall petition your goodness with the same frankness as I now do myself the honour to subscribe myself, No. CCLXV. TO MRS. DUNLOP, IN LONDON. R. B.S Dumfries, 20th December, 1795. I HAVE been prodigiously disappointed in this London journey of yours. In the first place, when your last to me reached Dumfries, I was in the country, and did not return until too late to answer your letter; in the next place, I thought you would certainly take this route; and now I know not what is become of you, or whether this may reach you at all.God grant that this may find you and yours in for the representation of the Stewartry of Kirkcudbright,— see pages 321-4.] [Part of this letter was printed by Currie; the whole was published in the Reliques by Cromek. Patrick Heron died, as all his friends would desire to die-in bed, at peace with himself, and with mankind.] prospering health and good spirits! Do let me hear from you the soonest possible. As I hope to get a frank from my friend, Captain Miller, I shall every leisure hour take up the pen, and gossip away whatever comes first, prose or poetry, sermon or song.— In this last article I have abounded of late. I have often mentioned to you a superb publication of Scottish Songs, which is making its appearance in your great metropolis, and where I have the honour to preside over the Scottish verse, as no less a personage than Peter Pindar does over the English. December 29th. Since I began this letter, I have been appointed to act in the capacity of supervisor here, and I assure you, what with the load of business, and what with that business being new to me, I could scarcely have commanded ten minutes to have spoken to you, had you been in town, much less to have written you an epistle. This appointment is only temporary, and during the illness of the present incumbent; but I look forward to an early period when I shall be appointed in full form: a consummation devoutly to be wished! My political sins seem to be forgiven me. sweating under the weight of heavy addresses, WHILE pursy burgesses crowd your gate. permit us, the quondam distillers in that part of Great Britain called Scotland, to approach you. not with venal approbation, but with fraternal condolence; not as what you are just now, or for some time have been; but as what, in all This is the season (New-year's-day is now my date) of wishing; and mine are most fer- probability, you will shortly be.-We stali have the merit of not deserting our friends in vently offered up for you! May life to you be a positive blessing while it lasts, for your own the day of their calamity, and you will have sake; and that it may yet be greatly pro- address. the satisfaction of perusing at least one honest longed is my wish for my own sake, and for dissection of human nature; nor do you need You are well acquainted with the the sake of the rest of your friends! What a transient business is life! Very lately I was a the assistance of a fellow-creature's bosom to boy; but t'other day I was a young man; inform you that man is always a selfish, often and already I begin to feel the rigid fibre and a perfidious, being.-This assertion, however stiffening joints of old age coming fast o'er my the hasty conclusions of superficial observation frame. With all my follies of youth, and, I may doubt of it, or the raw inexperience of fear, a few vices of manhood, still I congratu- youth may deny it, those who make the fatal late myself on having had in early days reli-experiment we have done will feel.—You are a gion strongly impressed on my mind. I have nothing to say to any one as to which sect he belongs to, or what creed he believes but I look on the man who is firmly persuaded of infinite wisdom and goodness, superintending and directing every circumstance that can happen in his lot-I felicitate such a man as having a solid foundation for his mental enjoyment; a firm prop and sure stay in the hour of difficulty, trouble, and distress; and a never-failing anchor of hope, when he looks beyond the grave. statesman, and consequently are not ignorant of the traffic of these corporation compliments. -The little great man who drives the borough to market, and the very great man who buys whole business; and, you well know, they, the borough in that market, they two do the likewise, have their price. With that sullen disdain which you can so well assume, rise, of venal stupidity. At best they are the comillustrious Sir, and spurn these hircling efforts pliments of a man's friends on the morning of his execution: they take a decent farewell; resign you to your fate; and hurry away from your approaching hour. If fame say true, and omens be not very much mistaken, you are about to make your exit from that world where the sun of gladness gilds the paths of prosperous men: permit us, [The novel entitled "Edward."] great Sir, with the sympathy of fellow-feeling, to hail your passage to the realms of ruin. that was near and dear to us, were sacrificed without remorse, to the infernal deity of political expediency! We fell to gratify the wishes of dark envy, and the views of unprincipled ambition! Your foes, Sir, were avowed; were too brave to take an ungenerous advantage; you fell in the face of day.-On the contrary, our enemies, to complete our overthrow, contrived to make their guilt appear the villany of a nation.-Your downfall only drags with you your private friends and partisans in our misery are more or less involved the most numerous and most valuable part or the community-all those who immediately depend on the cultivation of the soil, from the landlord of a province down to his lowest hind. : Whether the sentiment proceed from the selfishness or cowardice of mankind is immaterial; but to point out to a child of misfortune those who are still more unhappy is to give him some degree of positive enjoyment. In this light, Sir, our downfall may be again useful to you:-Though not exactly in the same way, it is not perhaps the first time it has gratified your feelings. It is true, the triumph of your evil star is exceedingly despiteful.-At an age when others are the votaries of pleasure, or underlings in business, you had attained the highest wish of a British Statesman; and with the ordinary date of human life, what a prospect was before you! Deeply rooted in Royal Allow us, Sir, yet farther, just to hint at Favour, you overshadowed the land. The another rich vein of comfort in the dreary birds of passage, which follow ministerial sun-regions of adversity;-the gratulations of an shine through every clime of political faith and manners, flocked to your branches; and the beasts of the field (the lordly possessors of hills and valleys), crowded under your shade. "But behold a watcher, a holy One, came down from heaven, and cried aloud, and said thus: Hew down the tree, and cut off his branches; shake off his leaves, and scatter his fruit; let the beasts get away from under it, and the fowls from his branches!" A blow from an unthought-of quarter, one of those terrible accidents which peculiarly mark the hand of Omnipotence, overset your career, and laid all your fancied honours in the dust. But turn your eyes, Sir, to the tragic scenes of our fate. An ancient nation that for many ages had gallantly maintained the unequal struggle for independence with her much more powerful neighbour, at last agrees to an union which should ever after make them one people. In consideration of certain circumstances, it was covenanted that the former should enjoy a stipulated alleviation in her share of the public burdens, particularly in that branch of the revenue called the Excise. This just privilege has of late given great umbrage to some interested, powerful individuals of the more potent part of the empire, and they have spared no wicked pains, under insidious pretexts, to sub approving conscience. In a certain great assembly, of which you are a distinguished member, panegyrics on your private virtues have so often wounded your delicacy that we shall not distress you with any thing on the subject. There is, however, one part of your public conduct which our feelings will not permit us to pass in silence; our gratitude must trespass on your modesty; we mean, worthy Sir, your whole behaviour to the Scots Distillers.-In evil hours, when obtrusive recollection presses bitterly on the sense, let that, Sir, come like a healing angel, and speak the peace to your soul which the world can neither give nor take away. We have the honour to be, Sir, Your sympathizing fellow-sufferers, No. CCLXVII TO THE vert what they dared not openly to attack, HON. THE PROVOST, BAILIES, AND from the dread which they yet entertained of the spirit of their ancient enemies. In this conspiracy we fell; nor did we alone suffer-our country was deeply wounded. A number of (we will say) respectable individuals, largely engaged in trade, where we were not only useful, but absolutely necessary, to our country in her dearest interests; we, with all [This ironical Address was found among the Papers of the Poet. In evil hours, when obtrusive recollections pressed bitterly on the sense, perhaps the remembrance of having aided in crushing the great and glorious spirit of Burns came with no healing on its wings across the mind of Pitt. The success of Napoleon avenged the sufferings of the bard: nor | TOWN COUNCIL OF DUMFRIES. GENTLEMEN, THE literary taste and liberal spirit of your good town has so ably filled the various departments of your schools as to make it a very great object for a parent to have his children educated in them. Still, to me, a stranger, bas the memory of the late Lord Melville escaped without reproach. When the copyright of Burns's works was debated in the House of Lords, in 1812, Earl Grey dwelt upon the sinfulness of having neglected such a genius, and assigned to Lord Melville a greater share in starving him than some of his lordship's friends seemed to relish.-CUNNINGHAM.] have committed against so highly valued friend I am utterly at a loss to guess.† Alas! Madam, ill can I afford, at this time, to be deprived of any of the small remnant of my pleasures. I have lately drunk deep of the cup of affliction. The autumn robbed me of my only daughter and darling child, and that at a dis tance too, and so rapidly, as to put it out of my power to pay the last duties to her. I had scarcely begun to recover from that shock when I became myself the victim of a most severe rheumatic fever, and long the die spun doubtful; until, after many weeks of a sick bed, it seems to have turned up life, and I am beginning to crawl across my room, and once indeed have been before my own door in the street. "When pleasure fascinates the mental sight, No. CCLXVIII. TO MRS. RIDDEL. Dumfries, 20th January, 1796. I CANNOT express my gratitude to you for allowing me a longer perusal of "Anarcharsis.” In fact, I never met with a book that bewitched me so much; and I, as a member of the library, must warmly feel the obligation you have laid No. CCLXX. TO MRS. RIDdel, R. B. us under. Indeed, to me, the obligation is WHO HAD DESIRED HIM TO GO TO THE stronger than to any other individual of our society; as "Anarcharsis" is an indispensable desideratum to a son of the muses. * [The Provost and Bailies complied at once with the humble request of the Poet; he was induced to make it through the persuasions of James Gray and Thomas White, Masters of the Grammar School of Dumfries. These were not ordinary men; the "Sabbath among the Mountains," and the "Cona," of the former, show much poetic feeling, while the mathematical discoveries of the latter give him a station among the followers of science. Gray, an accomplished scholar, ardent and enthusiastic, died in the East Indies; White, equally ardent and impetuous, remained at home. Their memories are still held in grateful remembrance on the Banks of Nith.-CUNNINGHAM.] [It seems all but certain that Mrs. Dunlop regarded the poet with some little displeasure during the evening of his days. His political sins and convivial delinquencies were likely the cause of this: it is however doubtful whether or BIRTH-DAY ASSEMBLY ON THAT DAY TO SHEW HIS LOYALTY. Dumfries, 4th June, 1798. I AM in such miserable health as to be utterly incapable of shewing my loyalty in any way. Rackt as I am with rheumatisms, I meet every face with a greeting, like that of Balak to Balaam-"Come, curse me, Jacob; and come. defy me, Israel!" So say I-Come, curse me that east wind; and come, defy me the north! Would you have me in such circumstances copy you out a love-song? I may perhaps see you on Saturday, but I will not be at the ball.-Why should I? “man delights not me, nor woman either!" Can you supply me with the song, "Let us all be. unhappy together?”—do if you can, and oblige le pauvre miserable,§ R. B. not she knew of his sinking condition. That the bright career of Burns was so soon to terminate in the darkness of death seems never to have crossed the mind of friend or for till he returned from the Brow a dying man.-CUNNINGHAM. [The child died at Mauchline.] [This is the last letter which Burns addressed to the beautiful and accomplished Mrs. Riddel. In addition to the composition of a very admirable memoir of the poet, that lady bestirred herself much in rousing his friends both in Scotland and England to raise a monument at Dumfries to his memory. She subscribed largely herself: she indared others to do the same, and she corresponded with both Banks and Flaxman on the subject of designs. The following letters will suffice to show the reader that Mrs. Kiddel had forgiven the bard for all his lampoons, and was earnest in doing his memory honour. No. CCLXXI. TO MR. CLARKE, SCHOOLMASTER, FORFAR. Dumfries, 26th June, 1796. MY DEAR CLARKE: STILL, still the victim of affliction! Were you to see the emaciated figure who now holds the pen to you, you would not know your old friend. Whether I shall ever get about again, is only known to Him, the Great Unknown, whose creature I am. Alas, Clarke! I begin to fear the worst. As to my individual self, I am tranquil, and would despise myself if I were not; but Burns's poor widow, and half-a-dozen of his dear little ones-helpless orphans!-there I am weak as a woman's tear. Enough of this! 'Tis half of my disease. I duly received your last, enclosing the note. It came extremely in time, and I am much obliged by your punctuality. Again I must request you to do me the same kindness. Be so very good as, by return of post, to enclose me another note. I trust you can do it without inconvenience, and it will seriously oblige me. If I must go, I shall leave a few friends behind me, whom I shall regret while consciousness remains. I know I shall live in their remembrance. Adieu, dear Clarke. That I shall ever see you again is, I am afraid, highly improbable. R. B. No. CCLXXII. TO MR. JAMES JOHNSON. EDINBURGH. Dumfries, 4th July, 1796. How are you, my dear friend, and how comes on your fifth volume? You may probably think that for some time past I have neg lected you and your work; but, alas! the hand of pain, and sorrow, and care, has these many months lain heavy on me! Personal and domestic affliction have almost entirely banished that alacrity and life with which I used to woo the rural muse of Scotia. You are a good, worthy, honest fellow, and have a good right to live in this world-because you deserve it. Many a merry meeting this publication has given us, and possibly it may give us more, though, alas! I fear it. This protracting, slow, consuming illness which hangs over me, will, I doubt much, my ever dear friend, arrest my sun before he has well reached his middle career, and will turn over the poet to far more important concerns than studying the brilliancy of wit, or the pathos of sentiment! However, hope is the cordial of the human heart, and I endeavour to cherish it as well as I can. Let me hear from you as soon as convenient. -Your work is a great one; and now that it is finished, I see, if we were to begin again, two or three things that might be mended; yet "SIR, "Richmond, 20th May, 1799. "IN answer to yours of the 10th of last month, I will trouble you with a few lines on the subject of the bard's monument, having corresponded with several persons (Dr. Currie, &c.) respecting it, whose judgment is very far preferable to mine, and we all agree that the first thing to be done is to collect what money can be got for that purpose, in which we will all do what service we can, as soon as the posthumous works are published; but those who are at all saddled with that business must get it off their hands before they commence another undertaking. Perhaps an application, or at any rate the consulting with Mr. Flaxman on the subject of the design, &c., might answer better from and with persons he is already acquainted with, and more heads than one should be called in counsel on the occasion. If, therefore, you or the other gentlemen concerned in this project think it proper, I will talk it over with Mr. Flaxman and some other artists, friends of his, whom I know, and Mr. F. can then let you know his ideas on the subject. The monument should be characteristic of him to whom it is raised, and the artist must somehow be made acquainted with him and his works, which it is possible he may not be at present. The inscription should be first rate. I think either Roscoe or Dr. Darwin would contribute their talents for the purpose, and it could not be given into better hands. I have no names to add to your list; but whenever that for the posthumous works is closed, I will set to work in earnest. Pray remember me to Mr. Syme when you see him, from whom, I know not why, I never hear now. "I am, Sir, "Your humble servant, "MARIA RIDDEL." Of the merits of the designs it is difficult to judge without the drawings: Mrs. Riddel admired two, of which she gives the following description. "The first, which I think the handsomest, is a shrine enclosing a very beautiful female figure bending over a sort of sarcophagus, which is partly covered by drapery. This is really very elegant and classical, but it is expensive. The second design is a female figure, likewise very elegant, on a pedestal; with the addition of an attribute, either of these might be taken for Coila, whom Burns delighted to personify as his guardian genius." These designs were by Flaxman; they seem not to have pleased the friends of the poet in the vale of Nith; the intention of a monument was abandoned till a later day, when it was successfully revived by William Grierson, in Dumfries, and the late Alexander Key, Esq. in London. It would have been as well had the sculpture equalled the elegance of the architectural shrine which encloses it; that this is the opinion of others well qualified to judge, the following passage of a letter from one of our greatest living poets will abundantly show. "Last summer I visited Staffa, Iona, and part of the Western Highlands, and returned through your town of Dumfries, having for the first time passed through Burns's country. It gave me much pleasure to see Kilmarnock, Mauchline, Mossgiel Farm, the Ayr, which we crossed where he winds his way most romantically through rocks and woods; and to have a sight of Irwin and Lugar, which naebody sung till he named them in immortal verse. The banks of the Nith I had seen before, and was glad to renew my acquaintance with them. By the bye, what a sorry piece of sculpture is Burns's monument in Dumfries churchyard-monstrous in conception and clumsy in execution! It is a disgrace to the memory of the poet."-CUNNINGHAM.] [The above affecting letter first appeared in Chambers' Edition of the Poet's Works, Edinburgh, 1839.] |