Most
unhappily
for me, that merit they no longer
possess; and I hope that Mrs.
possess; and I hope that Mrs.
Robert Forst
The scenes I have passed with
the friend of my soul and his amiable connexions! the wrench at my
heart to think that he is gone, for ever gone from me, never more to
meet in the wanderings of a weary world! and the cutting reflection of
all, that I had most unfortunately, though most undeservedly, lost the
confidence of that soul of worth, ere it took its flight!
These, Madam, are sensations of no ordinary anguish. --However, you
also may be offended with some _imputed_ improprieties of mine;
sensibility you know I possess, and sincerity none will deny me.
To oppose those prejudices which have been raised against me, is not
the business of this letter. Indeed it is a warfare I know not how to
wage. The powers of positive vice I can in some degree calculate, and
against direct malevolence I can be on my guard; but who can estimate
the fatuity of giddy caprice, or ward off the unthinking mischief of
precipitate folly?
I have a favour to request of you, Madam, and of your sister Mrs. ----,
through your means. You know that, at the wish of my late friend, I
made a collection of all my trifles in verse which I had ever written.
They are many of them local, some of them puerile and silly, and all
of them unfit for the public eye. As I have some little fame at stake,
a fame that I trust may live when the hate of those who "watch for my
halting," and the contumelious sneer of those whom accident has made
my superiors, will, with themselves, be gone to the regions of
oblivion; I am uneasy now for the fate of those manuscripts--Will
Mrs. ---- have the goodness to destroy them, or return them to me? As a
pledge of friendship they were bestowed; and that circumstance indeed
was all their merit.
Most unhappily for me, that merit they no longer
possess; and I hope that Mrs. ---- 's goodness, which I well know, and
ever will revere, will not refuse this favour to a man whom she once
held in some degree of estimation.
With the sincerest esteem,
I have the honour to be,
Madam, &c.
R. B.
* * * * *
CCXCII.
TO MR. CUNNINGHAM.
[The religious feeling of Burns was sometimes blunted, but at times it
burst out, as in this letter, with eloquence and fervour, mingled with
fear. ]
_25th February, 1794. _
Canst thou minister to a mind diseased? Canst thou speak peace and
rest to a soul tost on a sea of troubles, without one friendly star to
guide her course, and dreading that the next surge may overwhelm her?
Canst thou give to a frame tremblingly alive as the tortures of
suspense, the stability and hardihood of the rock that braves the
blast? If thou canst not do the least of these, why wouldst thou
disturb me in my miseries, with thy inquiries after me?
* * * * *
For these two months I have not been able to lift a pen. My
constitution and frame were, _ab origine_, blasted with a deep
incurable taint of hypochondria, which poisons my existence.
the friend of my soul and his amiable connexions! the wrench at my
heart to think that he is gone, for ever gone from me, never more to
meet in the wanderings of a weary world! and the cutting reflection of
all, that I had most unfortunately, though most undeservedly, lost the
confidence of that soul of worth, ere it took its flight!
These, Madam, are sensations of no ordinary anguish. --However, you
also may be offended with some _imputed_ improprieties of mine;
sensibility you know I possess, and sincerity none will deny me.
To oppose those prejudices which have been raised against me, is not
the business of this letter. Indeed it is a warfare I know not how to
wage. The powers of positive vice I can in some degree calculate, and
against direct malevolence I can be on my guard; but who can estimate
the fatuity of giddy caprice, or ward off the unthinking mischief of
precipitate folly?
I have a favour to request of you, Madam, and of your sister Mrs. ----,
through your means. You know that, at the wish of my late friend, I
made a collection of all my trifles in verse which I had ever written.
They are many of them local, some of them puerile and silly, and all
of them unfit for the public eye. As I have some little fame at stake,
a fame that I trust may live when the hate of those who "watch for my
halting," and the contumelious sneer of those whom accident has made
my superiors, will, with themselves, be gone to the regions of
oblivion; I am uneasy now for the fate of those manuscripts--Will
Mrs. ---- have the goodness to destroy them, or return them to me? As a
pledge of friendship they were bestowed; and that circumstance indeed
was all their merit.
Most unhappily for me, that merit they no longer
possess; and I hope that Mrs. ---- 's goodness, which I well know, and
ever will revere, will not refuse this favour to a man whom she once
held in some degree of estimation.
With the sincerest esteem,
I have the honour to be,
Madam, &c.
R. B.
* * * * *
CCXCII.
TO MR. CUNNINGHAM.
[The religious feeling of Burns was sometimes blunted, but at times it
burst out, as in this letter, with eloquence and fervour, mingled with
fear. ]
_25th February, 1794. _
Canst thou minister to a mind diseased? Canst thou speak peace and
rest to a soul tost on a sea of troubles, without one friendly star to
guide her course, and dreading that the next surge may overwhelm her?
Canst thou give to a frame tremblingly alive as the tortures of
suspense, the stability and hardihood of the rock that braves the
blast? If thou canst not do the least of these, why wouldst thou
disturb me in my miseries, with thy inquiries after me?
* * * * *
For these two months I have not been able to lift a pen. My
constitution and frame were, _ab origine_, blasted with a deep
incurable taint of hypochondria, which poisons my existence.
