No More Learning

No song nor dance I bring from yon great city,
That queens it o'er our taste--the more's the pity:
Tho', by the bye, abroad why will you roam?
Good sense and taste are natives here at home.

I can no more. --If once I was clear of this cursed farm, I should
respire more at ease.

R. B.

* * * * *




CLXXXIII.


TO MR. SUTHERLAND,

PLAYER.

ENCLOSING A PROLOGUE.

[When the farm failed, the poet sought pleasure in the playhouse: he
tried to retire from his own harassing reflections, into a world
created by other minds. ]

_Monday Morning. _

I was much disappointed, my dear Sir, in wanting your most agreeable
company yesterday. However, I heartily pray for good weather next
Sunday; and whatever aerial Being has the guidance of the elements,
may take any other half-dozen of Sundays he pleases, and clothe them
with

"Vapours and clouds, and storms,
Until he terrify himself
At combustion of his own raising. "

I shall see you on Wednesday forenoon.
In the greatest hurry,

R. B.

* * * * *




CLXXXIV.


TO WILLIAM DUNBAR, W. S.

[This letter was first published by the Ettrick Shepherd, in his
edition of Burns: it is remarkable for this sentence, "I am resolved
never to breed up a son of mine to any of the learned professions: I
know the value of independence, and since I cannot give my sons an
independent fortune, I shall give them an independent line of life. "
We may look round us and inquire which line of life the poet could
possibly mean. ]

_Ellisland, 14th January, 1790. _

Since we are here creatures of a day, since "a few summer days, and a
few winter nights, and the life of man is at an end," why, my dear
much-esteem Sir, should you and I let negligent indolence, for I know
it is nothing worse, step in between us and bar the enjoyment of a
mutual correspondence? We are not shapen out of the common, heavy,
methodical clod, the elemental stuff of the plodding selfish race, the
sons of Arithmetic and Prudence; our feelings and hearts are not
benumbed and poisoned by the cursed influence of riches, which,
whatever blessing they may be in other respects, are no friends to the
nobler qualities of the heart: in the name of random sensibility,
then, let never the moon change on our silence any more. I have had a
tract of had health most part of this winter, else you had heard from
me long ere now. Thank Heaven, I am now got so much better as to be
able to partake a little in the enjoyments of life.

Our friend Cunningham will, perhaps, have told you of my going into
the Excise. The truth is, I found it a very convenient business to
have ? 50 per annum, nor have I yet felt any of those mortifying
circumstances in it that I was led to fear.

_Feb.