No More Learning

TO MR. WILLIAM DUNBAR.

[William Dunbar, Colonel of the Crochallan Fencibles. The name has a
martial sound, but the corps which he commanded was club of wits,
whose courage was exercised on "paitricks, teals, moorpowts, and
plovers. "]

_Lawn-market, Monday morning. _

DEAR SIR,

In justice to Spenser, I must acknowledge that there is scarcely a
poet in the language could have been a more agreeable present to me;
and in justice to you, allow me to say, Sir, that I have not met with
a man in Edinburgh to whom I would so willingly have been indebted for
the gift. The tattered rhymes I herewith present you, and the handsome
volumes of Spenser for which I am so much indebted to your goodness,
may perhaps be not in proportion to one another; but be that as it
may, my gift, though far less valuable, is as sincere a mark of esteem
as yours.

The time is approaching when I shall return to my shades; and I am
afraid my numerous Edinburgh friendships are of so tender a
construction, that they will not bear carriage with me. Yours is one
of the few that I could wish of a more robust constitution. It is
indeed very probable that when I leave this city, we part never more
to meet in this sublunary sphere; but I have a strong fancy that in
some future eccentric planet, the comet of happier systems than any
with which astronomy is yet acquainted, you and I, among the harum
scarum sons of imagination and whim, with a hearty shake of a hand, a
metaphor and a laugh, shall recognise old acquaintance:

"Where wit may sparkle all its rays,
Uncurs'd with caution's fears;
That pleasure, basking in the blaze,
Rejoice for endless years. "

I have the honour to be, with the warmest sincerity, dear Sir, &c.

R. B.

* * * * *




LX.


TO JAMES JOHNSON.
[James Johnson was an engraver in Edinburgh, and proprietor of the
Musical Museum; a truly national work, for which Burns wrote or
amended many songs. ]

_Lawn-market, Friday noon, 3 May, 1787. _

DEAR SIR,

I have sent you a song never before known, for your collection; the
air by M'Gibbon, but I know not the author of the words, as I got it
from Dr. Blacklock.

Farewell, my dear Sir! I wished to have seen you, but I have been
dreadfully throng, as I march to-morrow. Had my acquaintance with you
been a little older, I would have asked the favour of your
correspondence, as I have met with few people whose company and
conversation gives me so much pleasure, because I have met with few
whose sentiments are so congenial to my own.

When Dunbar and you meet, tell him that I left Edinburgh with the idea
of him hanging somewhere about my heart.

Keep the original of the song till we meet again, whenever that may
be.

R. B.

* * * * *




LXI.


TO WILLIAM CREECH, ESQ.

EDINBURGH.

[This characteristic letter was written during the poet's border tour:
he narrowly escaped a soaking with whiskey, as well as with water; for
according to the Ettrick Shepherd, "a couple of Yarrow lads, lovers of
poesy and punch, awaited his coming to Selkirk, but would not believe
that the parson-looking, black-avised man, who rode up to the inn,
more like a drouket craw than a poet, could be Burns, and so went
disappointed away. "]

_Selkirk, 13th May, 1787.