At Edinburgh I was in a new world; I mingled
among many classes of men, but all of them new to me, and I was all
attention to "catch" the characters and "the manners living as they
rise.
among many classes of men, but all of them new to me, and I was all
attention to "catch" the characters and "the manners living as they
rise.
Robert Burns
--To know
myself had been all along my constant study. I weighed myself alone; I
balanced myself with others; I watched every means of information, to
see how much ground I occupied as a man and as a poet; I studied
assiduously Nature's design in my formation--where the lights and
shades in my character were intended. I was pretty confident my poems
would meet with some applause; but, at the worst, the roar of the
Atlantic would deafen the voice of censure, and the novelty of West
Indian scenes make me forget neglect. I threw off six hundred copies,
of which I had got subscriptions for about three hundred and
fifty. --My vanity was highly gratified by the reception I met with
from the public; and besides I pocketed, all expenses deducted, nearly
twenty pounds. This sum came very seasonably, as I was thinking of
indenting myself, for want of money to procure my passage. As soon as
I was master of nine guineas, the price of wafting me to the torrid
zone, I took a steerage passage in the first ship that was to sail
from the Clyde, for
"Hungry ruin had me in the wind. "
I had been for some days skulking from covert to covert, under all the
terrors of a jail; as some ill-advised people had uncoupled the
merciless pack of the law at my heels. I had taken the last farewell
of my few friends; my chest was on the road to Greenock; I had
composed the last song I should ever measure in Caledonia--"The gloomy
night is gathering fast," when a letter from Dr. Blacklock to a friend
of mine, overthrew all my schemes, by opening new prospects to my
poetic ambition. The doctor belonged to a set of critics for whose
applause I had not dared to hope. His opinion, that I would meet with
encouragement in Edinburgh for a second edition, fired me so much,
that away I posted for that city, without a single acquaintance, or a
single letter of introduction. The baneful star that had so long shed
its blasting influence in my zenith, for once made a revolution to the
nadir; and a kind Providence placed me under the patronage of one of
the noblest of men, the Earl of Glencairn. _Oublie-moi, grand Dieu, si
jamais je l'oublie! _
I need relate no farther.
At Edinburgh I was in a new world; I mingled
among many classes of men, but all of them new to me, and I was all
attention to "catch" the characters and "the manners living as they
rise. " Whether I have profited, time will show.
* * * * *
My most respectful compliments to Miss Williams. Her very elegant and
friendly letter I cannot answer at present, as my presence is
requisite in Edinburgh, and I set out to-morrow.
R. B.
FOOTNOTES:
[Footnote 175: Idiot for idiotic. ]
[Footnote 176: Paradise Lost, b. iv]
[Footnote 177: "Rob the Rhymer's Welcome to his Bastard Child. "--See
Poem XXXIII. ]
* * * * *
LXXV.
TO ROBERT AINSLIE, ESQ. ,
BERRYWELL DUNSE.
[This characteristic letter was first published by Sir Harris Nichols;
others, still more characteristic, addressed to the same gentleman,
are abroad: how they escaped from private keeping is a sort of a
riddle. ]
_Edinburgh, 23d August_, 1787.
"As I gaed up to Dunse
To warp a pickle yarn,
Robin, silly body,
He gat me wi' bairn.
myself had been all along my constant study. I weighed myself alone; I
balanced myself with others; I watched every means of information, to
see how much ground I occupied as a man and as a poet; I studied
assiduously Nature's design in my formation--where the lights and
shades in my character were intended. I was pretty confident my poems
would meet with some applause; but, at the worst, the roar of the
Atlantic would deafen the voice of censure, and the novelty of West
Indian scenes make me forget neglect. I threw off six hundred copies,
of which I had got subscriptions for about three hundred and
fifty. --My vanity was highly gratified by the reception I met with
from the public; and besides I pocketed, all expenses deducted, nearly
twenty pounds. This sum came very seasonably, as I was thinking of
indenting myself, for want of money to procure my passage. As soon as
I was master of nine guineas, the price of wafting me to the torrid
zone, I took a steerage passage in the first ship that was to sail
from the Clyde, for
"Hungry ruin had me in the wind. "
I had been for some days skulking from covert to covert, under all the
terrors of a jail; as some ill-advised people had uncoupled the
merciless pack of the law at my heels. I had taken the last farewell
of my few friends; my chest was on the road to Greenock; I had
composed the last song I should ever measure in Caledonia--"The gloomy
night is gathering fast," when a letter from Dr. Blacklock to a friend
of mine, overthrew all my schemes, by opening new prospects to my
poetic ambition. The doctor belonged to a set of critics for whose
applause I had not dared to hope. His opinion, that I would meet with
encouragement in Edinburgh for a second edition, fired me so much,
that away I posted for that city, without a single acquaintance, or a
single letter of introduction. The baneful star that had so long shed
its blasting influence in my zenith, for once made a revolution to the
nadir; and a kind Providence placed me under the patronage of one of
the noblest of men, the Earl of Glencairn. _Oublie-moi, grand Dieu, si
jamais je l'oublie! _
I need relate no farther.
At Edinburgh I was in a new world; I mingled
among many classes of men, but all of them new to me, and I was all
attention to "catch" the characters and "the manners living as they
rise. " Whether I have profited, time will show.
* * * * *
My most respectful compliments to Miss Williams. Her very elegant and
friendly letter I cannot answer at present, as my presence is
requisite in Edinburgh, and I set out to-morrow.
R. B.
FOOTNOTES:
[Footnote 175: Idiot for idiotic. ]
[Footnote 176: Paradise Lost, b. iv]
[Footnote 177: "Rob the Rhymer's Welcome to his Bastard Child. "--See
Poem XXXIII. ]
* * * * *
LXXV.
TO ROBERT AINSLIE, ESQ. ,
BERRYWELL DUNSE.
[This characteristic letter was first published by Sir Harris Nichols;
others, still more characteristic, addressed to the same gentleman,
are abroad: how they escaped from private keeping is a sort of a
riddle. ]
_Edinburgh, 23d August_, 1787.
"As I gaed up to Dunse
To warp a pickle yarn,
Robin, silly body,
He gat me wi' bairn.
