The
world of wits, and _gens comme il faut_ which I lately left, and with
whom I never again will intimately mix--from that port, Sir, I expect
your Gazette: what _Les beaux esprit_ are saying, what they are doing,
and what they are singing.
world of wits, and _gens comme il faut_ which I lately left, and with
whom I never again will intimately mix--from that port, Sir, I expect
your Gazette: what _Les beaux esprit_ are saying, what they are doing,
and what they are singing.
Robert Forst
R. B.
* * * * *
CXII.
TO MR. WILLIAM DUNBAR,
EDINBURGH.
[This letter was printed for the first time by Robert Chambers, in his
"People's Edition" of Burns. ]
_Mauchline, 7th April, 1788. _
I have not delayed so long to write you, my much respected friend,
because I thought no farther of my promise. I have long since give up
that kind of formal correspondence, where one sits down irksomely to
write a letter, because we think we are in duty bound so to do.
I have been roving over the country, as the farm I have taken is forty
miles from this place, hiring servants and preparing matters; but most
of all I am earnestly busy to bring about a revolution in my own mind.
As, till within these eighteen months, I never was the wealthy master
of 10 guineas, my knowledge of business is to learn; add to this my
late scenes of idleness and dissipation have enervated my mind to an
alarming degree. Skill in the sober science of life is my most serious
and hourly study. I have dropt all conversation and all reading (prose
reading) but what tends in some way or other to my serious aim. Except
one worthy young fellow, I have not one single correspondent in
Edinburgh. You have indeed kindly made me an offer of that kind.
The
world of wits, and _gens comme il faut_ which I lately left, and with
whom I never again will intimately mix--from that port, Sir, I expect
your Gazette: what _Les beaux esprit_ are saying, what they are doing,
and what they are singing. Any sober intelligence from my sequestered
walks of life; any droll original; any passing reward, important
forsooth, because it is mine; any little poetic effort, however
embryoth; these, my dear Sir, are all you have to expect from me. When
I talk of poetic efforts, I must have it always understood, that I
appeal from your wit and taste to your friendship and good nature. The
first would be my favourite tribunal, where I defied censure; but the
last, where I declined justice.
I have scarcely made a single distich since I saw you. When I meet
with an old Scots air that has any facetious idea in its name, I have
a peculiar pleasure in following out that idea for a verse or two.
I trust that this will find you in better health than I did last time
I called for you. A few lines from you, directed to me at Mauchline,
were it but to let me know how you are, will set my mind a good deal
[at rest. ] Now, never shun the idea of writing me because perhaps you
may be out of humour or spirits. I could give you a hundred good
consequences attending a dull letter; one, for example, and the
remaining ninety-nine some other time--it will always serve to keep in
countenance, my much respected Sir, your obliged friend and humble
servant,
R. B.
* * * * *
CXIII.
TO MISS CHALMERS.
[The sacrifice referred to by the poet, was his resolution to unite
his fortune with Jean Armour. ]
_Mauchline, 7th April, 1788. _
I am indebted to you and Miss Nimmo for letting me know Miss Kennedy.
