No More Learning

"Some memorial to direct the steps of the lovers of Scottish song,
when they wish to shed a tear over the 'narrow house' of the bard who
is no more, is surely a tribute due to Fergusson's memory: a tribute I
wish to have the honour of paying.

"I petition you then, gentlemen, to permit me to lay a simple stone
over his revered ashes, to remain an unalienable property to his
deathless fame. I have the honour to be, gentlemen, your very humble
servant (_sic subscribitur_),

ROBERT BURNS. "

Thereafter the said managers, in consideration of the laudable and
disinterested motion of Mr. Burns, and the propriety of his request,
did, and hereby do, unanimously, grant power and liberty to the said
Robert Burns to erect a headstone at the grave of the said Robert
Fergusson, and to keep up and preserve the same to his memory in all
time coming. Extracted forth of the records of the managers, by

WILLIAM SPROTT, Clerk.

* * * * *




LII.


TO MRS. DUNLOP.

[The poet alludes in this letter to the profits of the Edinburgh
edition of his Poems: the exact sum is no where stated, but it could
not have been less than seven hundred pounds. ]

_Edinburgh, March 22d, 1787. _

MADAM,

I read your letter with watery eyes. A little, very little while ago,
I had scarce a friend but the stubborn pride of my own bosom: now I am
distinguished, patronized, befriended by you. Your friendly advices, I
will not give them the cold name of criticisms, I receive with
reverence. I have made some small alterations in what I before had
printed.
I have the advice of some very judicious friends among the
literati here, but with them I sometimes find it necessary to claim
the privilege of thinking for myself. The noble Karl of Glencairn, to
whom I owe more than to any man, does me the honor of giving me his
strictures: his hints, with respect to impropriety or indelicacy, I
follow implicitly.

You kindly interest yourself in my future views and prospects; there I
can give you no light. It is all

"Dark as was Chaos ere the infant sun
Was roll'd together, or had tried his beams
Athwart the gloom profound. "[168]

The appellation of a Scottish bard, is by far my highest pride; to
continue to deserve it is my most exalted ambition. Scottish scenes
and Scottish story are the themes I could wish to sing. I have no
dearer aim than to have it in my power, unplagued with the routine of
business, for which heaven knows I am unfit enough, to make leisurely
pilgrimages through Caledonia; to sit on the fields of her battles; to
wander on the romantic banks of her rivers; and to muse by the stately
towers or venerable ruins, once the honoured abodes of her heroes.

But these are all Utopian thoughts: I have dallied long enough with
life; 'tis time to be in earnest. I have a fond, an aged mother to care
for: and some other bosom ties perhaps equally tender. Where the
individual only suffers by the consequences of his own thoughtlessness,
indolence, or folly, he may be excusable; nay, shining abilities, and
some of the nobler virtues, may half sanctify a heedless character; but
where God and nature have intrusted the welfare of others to his care;
where the trust is sacred, and the ties are dear, that man must be far
gone in selfishness, or strangely lost to reflection, whom these
connexions will not rouse to exertion.

I guess that I shall clear between two and three hundred pounds by my
authorship; with that sum I intend, so far as I may be said to have
any intention, to return to my old acquaintance, the plough, and if I
can meet with a lease by which I can live, to commence farmer. I do
not intend to give up poetry; being bred to labour, secures me
independence, and the muses are my chief, sometimes have been my only
enjoyment. If my practice second my resolution, I shall have
principally at heart the serious business of life; but while following
my plough, or building up my shocks, I shall cast a leisure glance to
that dear, that only feature of my character, which gave me the notice
of my country, and the patronage of a Wallace.

Thus, honoured Madam, I have given you the bard, his situation, and
his views, native as they are in his own bosom.

R. B.