I will
not trouble you with any account, by way of apology, of my hurried
life and distracted attention: do me the justice to believe that my
delay by no means proceeded from want of respect.
not trouble you with any account, by way of apology, of my hurried
life and distracted attention: do me the justice to believe that my
delay by no means proceeded from want of respect.
Robert Burns
For my
part, my first ambition was, and still my strongest wish is, to please
my compeers, the rustic inmates of the hamlet, while ever-changing
language and manners shall allow me to be relished and understood. I
am very willing to admit that I have some poetical abilities; and as
few, if any, writers, either moral or poetical, are intimately
acquainted with the classes of mankind among whom I have chiefly
mingled, I may have seen men and manners in a different phasis from
what is common, which may assist originality of thought. Still I know
very well the novelty of my character has by far the greatest share in
the learned and polite notice I have lately had; and in a language
where Pope and Churchill have raised the laugh, and Shenstone and Gray
drawn the tear; where Thomson and Beattie have painted the landscape,
and Lyttelton and Collins described the heart, I am not vain enough to
hope for distinguished poetic fame.
R. B.
* * * * *
XLV.
TO THE REV. G. LAURIE,
NEWMILLS, NEAR KILMARNOCK.
[It has been said in the Life of Burns, that for some time after he
went to Edinburgh, he did not visit Dr. Blacklock, whose high opinion
of his genius induced him to try his fortune in that city: it will be
seen by this letter that he had neglected also, for a time, at least,
to write to Dr. Laurie, who introduced him to the Doctor. ]
_Edinburgh, Feb. 5th, 1787. _
REVEREND AND DEAR SIR,
When I look at the date of your kind letter, my heart reproaches me
severely with ingratitude in neglecting so long to answer it.
I will
not trouble you with any account, by way of apology, of my hurried
life and distracted attention: do me the justice to believe that my
delay by no means proceeded from want of respect. I feel, and ever
shall feel for you the mingled sentiments of esteem for a friend and
reverence for a father.
I thank you, Sir, with all my soul for your friendly hints, though I
do not need them so much as my friends are apt to imagine. You are
dazzled with newspaper accounts and distant reports; but, in reality,
I have no great temptation to be intoxicated with the cup of
prosperity. Novelty may attract the attention of mankind awhile; to it
I owe my present eclat; but I see the time not far distant when the
popular tide which has borne me to a height of which I am, perhaps,
unworthy, shall recede with silent celerity, and leave me a barren
waste of sand, to descend at my leisure to my former station. I do not
say this in the affectation of modesty; I see the consequence is
unavoidable, and am prepared for it. I had been at a good deal of
pains to form a just, impartial estimate of my intellectual powers
before I came here; I have not added, since I came to Edinburgh,
anything to the account; and I trust I shall take every atom of it
back to my shades, the coverts of my unnoticed, early years.
In Dr. Blacklock, whom I see very often, I have found what I would
have expected in our friend, a clear head and an excellent heart.
By far the most agreeable hours I spend in Edinburgh must be placed to
the account of Miss Laurie and her piano-forte. I cannot help
repeating to you and Mrs. Laurie a compliment that Mr. Mackenzie, the
celebrated "Man of Feeling," paid to Miss Laurie, the other night, at
the concert. I had come in at the interlude, and sat down by him till
I saw Miss Laurie in a seat not very distant, and went up to pay my
respects to her. On my return to Mr. Mackenzie he asked me who she
was; I told him 'twas the daughter of a reverend friend of mine in the
west country.
part, my first ambition was, and still my strongest wish is, to please
my compeers, the rustic inmates of the hamlet, while ever-changing
language and manners shall allow me to be relished and understood. I
am very willing to admit that I have some poetical abilities; and as
few, if any, writers, either moral or poetical, are intimately
acquainted with the classes of mankind among whom I have chiefly
mingled, I may have seen men and manners in a different phasis from
what is common, which may assist originality of thought. Still I know
very well the novelty of my character has by far the greatest share in
the learned and polite notice I have lately had; and in a language
where Pope and Churchill have raised the laugh, and Shenstone and Gray
drawn the tear; where Thomson and Beattie have painted the landscape,
and Lyttelton and Collins described the heart, I am not vain enough to
hope for distinguished poetic fame.
R. B.
* * * * *
XLV.
TO THE REV. G. LAURIE,
NEWMILLS, NEAR KILMARNOCK.
[It has been said in the Life of Burns, that for some time after he
went to Edinburgh, he did not visit Dr. Blacklock, whose high opinion
of his genius induced him to try his fortune in that city: it will be
seen by this letter that he had neglected also, for a time, at least,
to write to Dr. Laurie, who introduced him to the Doctor. ]
_Edinburgh, Feb. 5th, 1787. _
REVEREND AND DEAR SIR,
When I look at the date of your kind letter, my heart reproaches me
severely with ingratitude in neglecting so long to answer it.
I will
not trouble you with any account, by way of apology, of my hurried
life and distracted attention: do me the justice to believe that my
delay by no means proceeded from want of respect. I feel, and ever
shall feel for you the mingled sentiments of esteem for a friend and
reverence for a father.
I thank you, Sir, with all my soul for your friendly hints, though I
do not need them so much as my friends are apt to imagine. You are
dazzled with newspaper accounts and distant reports; but, in reality,
I have no great temptation to be intoxicated with the cup of
prosperity. Novelty may attract the attention of mankind awhile; to it
I owe my present eclat; but I see the time not far distant when the
popular tide which has borne me to a height of which I am, perhaps,
unworthy, shall recede with silent celerity, and leave me a barren
waste of sand, to descend at my leisure to my former station. I do not
say this in the affectation of modesty; I see the consequence is
unavoidable, and am prepared for it. I had been at a good deal of
pains to form a just, impartial estimate of my intellectual powers
before I came here; I have not added, since I came to Edinburgh,
anything to the account; and I trust I shall take every atom of it
back to my shades, the coverts of my unnoticed, early years.
In Dr. Blacklock, whom I see very often, I have found what I would
have expected in our friend, a clear head and an excellent heart.
By far the most agreeable hours I spend in Edinburgh must be placed to
the account of Miss Laurie and her piano-forte. I cannot help
repeating to you and Mrs. Laurie a compliment that Mr. Mackenzie, the
celebrated "Man of Feeling," paid to Miss Laurie, the other night, at
the concert. I had come in at the interlude, and sat down by him till
I saw Miss Laurie in a seat not very distant, and went up to pay my
respects to her. On my return to Mr. Mackenzie he asked me who she
was; I told him 'twas the daughter of a reverend friend of mine in the
west country.
