From the cave of my
ignorance, amid the fogs of my dulness, and pestilential fumes of my
political heresies, I look up to thee, as doth a toad through the
iron-barred lucerne of a pestiferous dungeon, to the cloudless glory
of a summer sun!
ignorance, amid the fogs of my dulness, and pestilential fumes of my
political heresies, I look up to thee, as doth a toad through the
iron-barred lucerne of a pestiferous dungeon, to the cloudless glory
of a summer sun!
Robert Forst
B.
* * * * *
CCXXVIII.
TO MR. W. NICOL.
[This ironical letter was in answer to one from Nicol, containing
counsel and reproof. ]
_20th February, 1792. _
O thou, wisest among the wise, meridian blaze of prudence, full-moon
of discretion, and chief of many counsellors! How infinitely is thy
puddle-headed, rattle-headed, wrong-headed, round-headed slave
indebted to thy supereminent goodness, that from the luminous path of
thy own right-lined rectitude, thou lookest benignly down on an erring
wretch, of whom the zig-zag wanderings defy all the powers of
calculation, from the simple copulation of units, up to the hidden
mysteries of fluxions! May one feeble ray of that light of wisdom
which darts from thy sensorium, straight as the arrow of heaven, and
bright as the meteor of inspiration, may it be my portion, so that I
may be less unworthy of the face and favour of that father of proverbs
and master of maxims, that antipode of folly, and magnet among the
sages, the wise and witty Willie Nicol! Amen! Amen! Yea, so be it!
For me! I am a beast, a reptile, and know nothing!
From the cave of my
ignorance, amid the fogs of my dulness, and pestilential fumes of my
political heresies, I look up to thee, as doth a toad through the
iron-barred lucerne of a pestiferous dungeon, to the cloudless glory
of a summer sun! Sorely sighing in bitterness of soul, I say, when
shall my name be the quotation of the wise, and my countenance be the
delight of the godly, like the illustrious lord of Laggan's many
hills? As for him, his works are perfect: never did the pen of calumny
blur the fair page of his reputation, nor the bolt of hatred fly at
his dwelling.
Thou mirror of purity, when shall the elfine lamp of my glimmerous
understanding, purged from sensual appetites and gross desires, shine
like the constellation of thy intellectual powers! --As for thee, thy
thoughts are pure, and thy lips are holy. Never did the unhallowed
breath of the powers of darkness, and the pleasures of darkness,
pollute the sacred flame of thy sky-descended and heaven-bound
desires: never did the vapours of impurity stain the unclouded serene
of thy cerulean imagination. O that like thine were the tenor of my
life, like thine the tenor of my conversation! then should no friend
fear for my strength, no enemy rejoice in my weakness! Then should I
lie down and rise up, and none to make me afraid. --May thy pity and
thy prayer be exercised for, O thou lamp of wisdom and mirror of
morality! thy devoted slave.
R. B.
* * * * *
CCXXIX.
TO FRANCIS GROSE, ESQ. , F.
* * * * *
CCXXVIII.
TO MR. W. NICOL.
[This ironical letter was in answer to one from Nicol, containing
counsel and reproof. ]
_20th February, 1792. _
O thou, wisest among the wise, meridian blaze of prudence, full-moon
of discretion, and chief of many counsellors! How infinitely is thy
puddle-headed, rattle-headed, wrong-headed, round-headed slave
indebted to thy supereminent goodness, that from the luminous path of
thy own right-lined rectitude, thou lookest benignly down on an erring
wretch, of whom the zig-zag wanderings defy all the powers of
calculation, from the simple copulation of units, up to the hidden
mysteries of fluxions! May one feeble ray of that light of wisdom
which darts from thy sensorium, straight as the arrow of heaven, and
bright as the meteor of inspiration, may it be my portion, so that I
may be less unworthy of the face and favour of that father of proverbs
and master of maxims, that antipode of folly, and magnet among the
sages, the wise and witty Willie Nicol! Amen! Amen! Yea, so be it!
For me! I am a beast, a reptile, and know nothing!
From the cave of my
ignorance, amid the fogs of my dulness, and pestilential fumes of my
political heresies, I look up to thee, as doth a toad through the
iron-barred lucerne of a pestiferous dungeon, to the cloudless glory
of a summer sun! Sorely sighing in bitterness of soul, I say, when
shall my name be the quotation of the wise, and my countenance be the
delight of the godly, like the illustrious lord of Laggan's many
hills? As for him, his works are perfect: never did the pen of calumny
blur the fair page of his reputation, nor the bolt of hatred fly at
his dwelling.
Thou mirror of purity, when shall the elfine lamp of my glimmerous
understanding, purged from sensual appetites and gross desires, shine
like the constellation of thy intellectual powers! --As for thee, thy
thoughts are pure, and thy lips are holy. Never did the unhallowed
breath of the powers of darkness, and the pleasures of darkness,
pollute the sacred flame of thy sky-descended and heaven-bound
desires: never did the vapours of impurity stain the unclouded serene
of thy cerulean imagination. O that like thine were the tenor of my
life, like thine the tenor of my conversation! then should no friend
fear for my strength, no enemy rejoice in my weakness! Then should I
lie down and rise up, and none to make me afraid. --May thy pity and
thy prayer be exercised for, O thou lamp of wisdom and mirror of
morality! thy devoted slave.
R. B.
* * * * *
CCXXIX.
TO FRANCIS GROSE, ESQ. , F.
