He, though two years younger, has
completely
mastered his
brother.
brother.
Robert Burns
a heart-wounded helpless
young woman--in a strange, foreign land, and that land convulsed with
every horror that can harrow the human feelings--sick--looking, longing
for a comforter, but finding none--a mother's feelings, too:--but it is
too much: he who wounded (he only can) may He heal!
* * * * *
I wish the farmer great joy of his new acquisition to his family.
* * * * * I cannot say that I give him joy of his life as a farmer. 'Tis,
as a farmer paying a dear, unconscionable rent, a _cursed life_! As to a
laird farming his own property; sowing his own corn in hope; and reaping
it, in spite of brittle weather, in gladness; knowing that none can say
unto him, 'what dost thou? '--fattening his herds; shearing his flocks;
rejoicing at Christmas; and begetting sons and daughters, until he be
the venerated, gray-haired leader of a little tribe--'tis a heavenly
life! but devil take the life of reaping the fruits that another must
eat.
Well, your kind wishes will be gratified, as to seeing me when I make
my Ayrshire visit. I cannot leave Mrs. B----, until her nine months'
race is run, which may perhaps be in three or four weeks. She, too,
seems determined to make me the patriarchal leader of a band. However,
if Heaven will be so obliging as to let me have them in the proportion
of three boys to one girl, I shall be so much the more pleased. I
hope, if I am spared with them, to show a set of boys that will do
honour to my cares and name; but I am not equal to the task of rearing
girls. Besides, I am too poor; a girl should always have a fortune.
Apropos, your little godson is thriving charmingly, but is a very
devil.
He, though two years younger, has completely mastered his
brother. Robert is indeed the mildest, gentlest creature I ever saw.
He has a most surprising memory, and is quite the pride of his
schoolmaster.
You know how readily we get into prattle upon a subject dear to our
heart: you can excuse it. God bless you and yours!
R. B.
* * * * *
CCXXXVI.
TO MRS. DUNLOP.
[This letter has no date: it is supposed to have been written on the
death of her daughter, Mrs. Henri, whose orphan son, deprived of the
protection of all his relations, was preserved by the affectionate
kindness of Mademoiselle Susette, one of the family domestics, and
after the Revolution obtained the estate of his blood and name. ]
I had been from home, and did not receive your letter until my return
the other day. What shall I say to comfort you, my much-valued,
much-afflicted friend! I can but grieve with you; consolation I have
none to offer, except that which religion holds out to the children of
affliction--_children of affliction! _--how just the expression!
young woman--in a strange, foreign land, and that land convulsed with
every horror that can harrow the human feelings--sick--looking, longing
for a comforter, but finding none--a mother's feelings, too:--but it is
too much: he who wounded (he only can) may He heal!
* * * * *
I wish the farmer great joy of his new acquisition to his family.
* * * * * I cannot say that I give him joy of his life as a farmer. 'Tis,
as a farmer paying a dear, unconscionable rent, a _cursed life_! As to a
laird farming his own property; sowing his own corn in hope; and reaping
it, in spite of brittle weather, in gladness; knowing that none can say
unto him, 'what dost thou? '--fattening his herds; shearing his flocks;
rejoicing at Christmas; and begetting sons and daughters, until he be
the venerated, gray-haired leader of a little tribe--'tis a heavenly
life! but devil take the life of reaping the fruits that another must
eat.
Well, your kind wishes will be gratified, as to seeing me when I make
my Ayrshire visit. I cannot leave Mrs. B----, until her nine months'
race is run, which may perhaps be in three or four weeks. She, too,
seems determined to make me the patriarchal leader of a band. However,
if Heaven will be so obliging as to let me have them in the proportion
of three boys to one girl, I shall be so much the more pleased. I
hope, if I am spared with them, to show a set of boys that will do
honour to my cares and name; but I am not equal to the task of rearing
girls. Besides, I am too poor; a girl should always have a fortune.
Apropos, your little godson is thriving charmingly, but is a very
devil.
He, though two years younger, has completely mastered his
brother. Robert is indeed the mildest, gentlest creature I ever saw.
He has a most surprising memory, and is quite the pride of his
schoolmaster.
You know how readily we get into prattle upon a subject dear to our
heart: you can excuse it. God bless you and yours!
R. B.
* * * * *
CCXXXVI.
TO MRS. DUNLOP.
[This letter has no date: it is supposed to have been written on the
death of her daughter, Mrs. Henri, whose orphan son, deprived of the
protection of all his relations, was preserved by the affectionate
kindness of Mademoiselle Susette, one of the family domestics, and
after the Revolution obtained the estate of his blood and name. ]
I had been from home, and did not receive your letter until my return
the other day. What shall I say to comfort you, my much-valued,
much-afflicted friend! I can but grieve with you; consolation I have
none to offer, except that which religion holds out to the children of
affliction--_children of affliction! _--how just the expression!
