I duly
received
your last, enclosing the note.
Robert Forst
B.
* * * * *
CCCXXXV.
TO MR. CLARKE,
SCHOOLMASTER, FORFAR.
[Who will say, after reading the following distressing letter, lately
come to light, that Burns did not die in great poverty. ]
_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.
* * * * *
CCCXXXVI.
TO MR. JAMES JOHNSON,
EDINBURGH.
["In this humble and delicate manner did poor Burns ask for a copy of
a work of which he was principally the founder, and to which he had
contributed _gratuitously_ not less than one hundred and eighty-four
_original, altered, and collected_ songs! The editor has seen one
hundred and eighty transcribed by his own hand, for the
'Museum.
* * * * *
CCCXXXV.
TO MR. CLARKE,
SCHOOLMASTER, FORFAR.
[Who will say, after reading the following distressing letter, lately
come to light, that Burns did not die in great poverty. ]
_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.
* * * * *
CCCXXXVI.
TO MR. JAMES JOHNSON,
EDINBURGH.
["In this humble and delicate manner did poor Burns ask for a copy of
a work of which he was principally the founder, and to which he had
contributed _gratuitously_ not less than one hundred and eighty-four
_original, altered, and collected_ songs! The editor has seen one
hundred and eighty transcribed by his own hand, for the
'Museum.
