One feature of your
character
I shall ever with grateful pleasure
remember;--the reception I got when I had the honour of waiting on you
at Stair.
remember;--the reception I got when I had the honour of waiting on you
at Stair.
Robert Forst
STEWART,
OF STAIR AND AFTON.
[Mrs. Stewart, of Stair and Afton, was the first person of note in the
West who had the taste to see and feel the genius of Burns. He used to
relate how his heart fluttered when he first walked into the parlour
of the towers of Stair, to hear the lady's opinion of some of his
songs. ]
[1786]
MADAM,
The hurry of my preparations for going abroad has hindered me from
performing my promise so soon as I intended. I have here sent you a
parcel of songs, &c. , which never made their appearance, except to a
friend or two at most. Perhaps some of them may be no great
entertainment to you, but of that I am far from being an adequate
judge. The song to the tune of "Ettrick Banks" [The bonnie lass of
Ballochmyle] you will easily see the impropriety of exposing much,
even in manuscript. I think, myself, it has some merit: both as a
tolerable description of one of nature's sweetest scenes, a July
evening, and one of the finest pieces of nature's workmanship, the
finest indeed we know anything of, an amiable, beautiful young
woman;[161] but I have no common friend to procure me that permission,
without which I would not dare to spread the copy.
I am quite aware, Madam, what task the world would assign me in this
letter. The obscure bard, when any of the great condescend to take
notice of him, should heap the altar with the incense of flattery.
Their high ancestry, their own great and godlike qualities and
actions, should be recounted with the most exaggerated description.
This, Madam, is a task for which I am altogether unfit. Besides a
certain disqualifying pride of heart, I know nothing of your
connexions in life, and have no access to where your real character
is to be found--the company of your compeers: and more, I am afraid
that even the most refined adulation is by no means the road to your
good opinion.
One feature of your character I shall ever with grateful pleasure
remember;--the reception I got when I had the honour of waiting on you
at Stair. I am little acquainted with politeness, but I know a good
deal of benevolence of temper and goodness of heart. Surely did those
in exalted stations know how happy they could make some classes of
their inferiors by condescension and affability, they would never
stand so high, measuring out with every look the height of their
elevation, but condescend as sweetly as did Mrs. Stewart of Stair.
R. B.
FOOTNOTES:
[Footnote 161: Miss Alexander. ]
* * * * *
XXXII.
IN THE NAME OF THE NINE. AMEN.
[The song or ballad which one of the "Deil's yeld Nowte" was commanded
to burn, was "Holy Willie's Prayer," it is believed. Currie interprets
the "Deil's yeld Nowte," to mean old bachelors, which, if right,
points to some other of his compositions, for purgation by fire.
Gilbert Burns says it is a scoffing appellation sometimes given to
sheriff's officers and other executors of the law. ]
We, Robert Burns, by virtue of a warrant from Nature, bearing date the
twenty-fifth day of January, Anno Domini one thousand seven hundred
and fifty-nine,[162] Poet Laureat, and Bard in Chief, in and over the
districts and countries of Kyle, Cunningham, and Carrick, of old
extent, To our trusty and well-beloved William Chalmers and John
M'Adam, students and practitioners in the ancient and mysterious
science of confounding right and wrong.
RIGHT TRUSTY:
Be it known unto you that whereas in the course of our care and
watchings over the order and police of all and sundry the
manufacturers, retainers, and venders of poesy; bards, poets,
poetasters, rhymers, jinglers, songsters, ballad-singers, &c. &c.
OF STAIR AND AFTON.
[Mrs. Stewart, of Stair and Afton, was the first person of note in the
West who had the taste to see and feel the genius of Burns. He used to
relate how his heart fluttered when he first walked into the parlour
of the towers of Stair, to hear the lady's opinion of some of his
songs. ]
[1786]
MADAM,
The hurry of my preparations for going abroad has hindered me from
performing my promise so soon as I intended. I have here sent you a
parcel of songs, &c. , which never made their appearance, except to a
friend or two at most. Perhaps some of them may be no great
entertainment to you, but of that I am far from being an adequate
judge. The song to the tune of "Ettrick Banks" [The bonnie lass of
Ballochmyle] you will easily see the impropriety of exposing much,
even in manuscript. I think, myself, it has some merit: both as a
tolerable description of one of nature's sweetest scenes, a July
evening, and one of the finest pieces of nature's workmanship, the
finest indeed we know anything of, an amiable, beautiful young
woman;[161] but I have no common friend to procure me that permission,
without which I would not dare to spread the copy.
I am quite aware, Madam, what task the world would assign me in this
letter. The obscure bard, when any of the great condescend to take
notice of him, should heap the altar with the incense of flattery.
Their high ancestry, their own great and godlike qualities and
actions, should be recounted with the most exaggerated description.
This, Madam, is a task for which I am altogether unfit. Besides a
certain disqualifying pride of heart, I know nothing of your
connexions in life, and have no access to where your real character
is to be found--the company of your compeers: and more, I am afraid
that even the most refined adulation is by no means the road to your
good opinion.
One feature of your character I shall ever with grateful pleasure
remember;--the reception I got when I had the honour of waiting on you
at Stair. I am little acquainted with politeness, but I know a good
deal of benevolence of temper and goodness of heart. Surely did those
in exalted stations know how happy they could make some classes of
their inferiors by condescension and affability, they would never
stand so high, measuring out with every look the height of their
elevation, but condescend as sweetly as did Mrs. Stewart of Stair.
R. B.
FOOTNOTES:
[Footnote 161: Miss Alexander. ]
* * * * *
XXXII.
IN THE NAME OF THE NINE. AMEN.
[The song or ballad which one of the "Deil's yeld Nowte" was commanded
to burn, was "Holy Willie's Prayer," it is believed. Currie interprets
the "Deil's yeld Nowte," to mean old bachelors, which, if right,
points to some other of his compositions, for purgation by fire.
Gilbert Burns says it is a scoffing appellation sometimes given to
sheriff's officers and other executors of the law. ]
We, Robert Burns, by virtue of a warrant from Nature, bearing date the
twenty-fifth day of January, Anno Domini one thousand seven hundred
and fifty-nine,[162] Poet Laureat, and Bard in Chief, in and over the
districts and countries of Kyle, Cunningham, and Carrick, of old
extent, To our trusty and well-beloved William Chalmers and John
M'Adam, students and practitioners in the ancient and mysterious
science of confounding right and wrong.
RIGHT TRUSTY:
Be it known unto you that whereas in the course of our care and
watchings over the order and police of all and sundry the
manufacturers, retainers, and venders of poesy; bards, poets,
poetasters, rhymers, jinglers, songsters, ballad-singers, &c. &c.
