When all my school-fellows and youthful compeers
(those misguided few excepted who joined, to use a Gentoo phrase, the
"hallachores" of the human race) were striking off with eager hope and
earnest intent, in some one or other of the many paths of busy life, I
was "standing idle in the market-place," or only left the chase of the
butterfly from flower to flower, to hunt fancy from whim to
whim.
(those misguided few excepted who joined, to use a Gentoo phrase, the
"hallachores" of the human race) were striking off with eager hope and
earnest intent, in some one or other of the many paths of busy life, I
was "standing idle in the market-place," or only left the chase of the
butterfly from flower to flower, to hunt fancy from whim to
whim.
Robert Forst
There are many things plead strongly
against it; the uncertainty of getting soon into business; the
consequences of my follies, which may perhaps make it impracticable
for me to stay at home; and besides I have for some time been pining
under secret wretchedness, from causes which you pretty well know--the
pang of disappointment, the sting of pride, with some wandering stabs
of remorse, which never fail to settle on my vitals like vultures,
when attention is not called away by the calls of society, or the
vagaries of the muse. Even in the hour of social mirth, my gayety is
the madness of an intoxicated criminal under the hands of the
executioner. All these reasons urge me to go abroad, and to all these
reasons I have only one answer--the feelings of a father. This, in the
present mood I am in, overbalances everything that can be laid in the
scale against it. * * * *
You may perhaps think it an extravagant fancy, but it is a sentiment
which strikes home to my very soul: though sceptical in some points of
our current belief, yet, I think, I have every evidence for the
reality of a life beyond the stinted bourne of our present existence;
if so, then, how should I, in the presence of that tremendous Being,
the Author of existence, how should I meet the reproaches of those who
stand to me in the dear relation of children, whom I deserted in the
smiling innocency of helpless infancy? O, thou great unknown
Power! --thou almighty God! who has lighted up reason in my breast, and
blessed me with immortality! --I have frequently wandered from that
order and regularity necessary for the perfection of thy works, yet
thou hast never left me nor forsaken me! * * * *
Since I wrote the foregoing sheet, I have seen something of the storm
of mischief thickening over my folly-devoted head. Should you, my
friends, my benefactors, be successful in your applications for me,
perhaps it may not be in my power, in that way, to reap the fruit of
your friendly efforts. What I have written in the preceding pages, is
the settled tenor of my present resolution; but should inimical
circumstances forbid me closing with your kind offer, or enjoying it
only threaten to entail farther misery-- * * * *
To tell the truth, I have little reason for complaint; as the world,
in general, has been kind to me fully up to my deserts. I was, for
some time past, fast getting into the pining, distrustful snarl of the
misanthrope. I saw myself alone, unlit for the struggle of life,
shrinking at every rising cloud in the chance-directed atmosphere of
fortune, while all defenceless I looked about in vain for a cover. It
never occurred to me, at least never with the force it deserved, that
this world is a busy scene, and man, a creature destined for a
progressive struggle; and that, however I might possess a warm heart
and inoffensive manners (which last, by the by, was rather more than I
could well boast); still, more than these passive qualities, there was
something to be done.
When all my school-fellows and youthful compeers
(those misguided few excepted who joined, to use a Gentoo phrase, the
"hallachores" of the human race) were striking off with eager hope and
earnest intent, in some one or other of the many paths of busy life, I
was "standing idle in the market-place," or only left the chase of the
butterfly from flower to flower, to hunt fancy from whim to
whim. * * * *
You see, Sir, that if to know one's errors were a probability of
mending them, I stand a fair chance; but according to the reverend
Westminster divines, though conviction must precede conversion, it is
very far from always implying it. * * * *
R. B.
* * * * *
XXII.
TO JOHN RICHMOND,
EDINBURGH.
[The minister who took upon him to pronounce Burns a single man, as he
intimates in this letter, was the Rev. Mr. Auld, of Mauchline: that
the law of the land and the law of the church were at variance on the
subject no one can deny. ]
_Mossgiel_, 9_th July_, 1786.
MY DEAR FRIEND,
With the sincerest grief I read your letter. You are truly a son of
misfortune. I shall be extremely anxious to hear from you how your
health goes on; if it is in any way re-establishing, or if Leith
promises well; in short, how you feel in the inner man.
No news worth anything: only godly Bryan was in the inquisition
yesterday, and half the country-side as witness against him. He still
stands out steady and denying: but proof was led yesternight of
circumstances highly suspicious: almost _de facto_ one of the servant
girls made faith that she upon a time rashly entered the house--to
speak in your cant, "in the hour of cause. "
I have waited on Armour since her return home; not from any the least
view of reconciliation, but merely to ask for her health and--to you I
will confess it--from a foolish hankering fondness--very ill placed
indeed.
against it; the uncertainty of getting soon into business; the
consequences of my follies, which may perhaps make it impracticable
for me to stay at home; and besides I have for some time been pining
under secret wretchedness, from causes which you pretty well know--the
pang of disappointment, the sting of pride, with some wandering stabs
of remorse, which never fail to settle on my vitals like vultures,
when attention is not called away by the calls of society, or the
vagaries of the muse. Even in the hour of social mirth, my gayety is
the madness of an intoxicated criminal under the hands of the
executioner. All these reasons urge me to go abroad, and to all these
reasons I have only one answer--the feelings of a father. This, in the
present mood I am in, overbalances everything that can be laid in the
scale against it. * * * *
You may perhaps think it an extravagant fancy, but it is a sentiment
which strikes home to my very soul: though sceptical in some points of
our current belief, yet, I think, I have every evidence for the
reality of a life beyond the stinted bourne of our present existence;
if so, then, how should I, in the presence of that tremendous Being,
the Author of existence, how should I meet the reproaches of those who
stand to me in the dear relation of children, whom I deserted in the
smiling innocency of helpless infancy? O, thou great unknown
Power! --thou almighty God! who has lighted up reason in my breast, and
blessed me with immortality! --I have frequently wandered from that
order and regularity necessary for the perfection of thy works, yet
thou hast never left me nor forsaken me! * * * *
Since I wrote the foregoing sheet, I have seen something of the storm
of mischief thickening over my folly-devoted head. Should you, my
friends, my benefactors, be successful in your applications for me,
perhaps it may not be in my power, in that way, to reap the fruit of
your friendly efforts. What I have written in the preceding pages, is
the settled tenor of my present resolution; but should inimical
circumstances forbid me closing with your kind offer, or enjoying it
only threaten to entail farther misery-- * * * *
To tell the truth, I have little reason for complaint; as the world,
in general, has been kind to me fully up to my deserts. I was, for
some time past, fast getting into the pining, distrustful snarl of the
misanthrope. I saw myself alone, unlit for the struggle of life,
shrinking at every rising cloud in the chance-directed atmosphere of
fortune, while all defenceless I looked about in vain for a cover. It
never occurred to me, at least never with the force it deserved, that
this world is a busy scene, and man, a creature destined for a
progressive struggle; and that, however I might possess a warm heart
and inoffensive manners (which last, by the by, was rather more than I
could well boast); still, more than these passive qualities, there was
something to be done.
When all my school-fellows and youthful compeers
(those misguided few excepted who joined, to use a Gentoo phrase, the
"hallachores" of the human race) were striking off with eager hope and
earnest intent, in some one or other of the many paths of busy life, I
was "standing idle in the market-place," or only left the chase of the
butterfly from flower to flower, to hunt fancy from whim to
whim. * * * *
You see, Sir, that if to know one's errors were a probability of
mending them, I stand a fair chance; but according to the reverend
Westminster divines, though conviction must precede conversion, it is
very far from always implying it. * * * *
R. B.
* * * * *
XXII.
TO JOHN RICHMOND,
EDINBURGH.
[The minister who took upon him to pronounce Burns a single man, as he
intimates in this letter, was the Rev. Mr. Auld, of Mauchline: that
the law of the land and the law of the church were at variance on the
subject no one can deny. ]
_Mossgiel_, 9_th July_, 1786.
MY DEAR FRIEND,
With the sincerest grief I read your letter. You are truly a son of
misfortune. I shall be extremely anxious to hear from you how your
health goes on; if it is in any way re-establishing, or if Leith
promises well; in short, how you feel in the inner man.
No news worth anything: only godly Bryan was in the inquisition
yesterday, and half the country-side as witness against him. He still
stands out steady and denying: but proof was led yesternight of
circumstances highly suspicious: almost _de facto_ one of the servant
girls made faith that she upon a time rashly entered the house--to
speak in your cant, "in the hour of cause. "
I have waited on Armour since her return home; not from any the least
view of reconciliation, but merely to ask for her health and--to you I
will confess it--from a foolish hankering fondness--very ill placed
indeed.
