The sport, the miserable victim
of rebellious pride, hypochondriac imagination, agonizing sensibility,
and bedlam passions?
of rebellious pride, hypochondriac imagination, agonizing sensibility,
and bedlam passions?
Robert Burns
Even I, who pique myself on my skill in marking
characters--because I am too proud of my character as a man, to be
dazzled in my judgment for glaring wealth; and too proud of my
situation as a poor man to be biased against squalid poverty--I was
unacquainted with Miss K. 's very uncommon worth.
I am going on a good deal progressive in _mon grand but_, the sober
science of life. I have lately made some sacrifices, for which, were I
_viva voce_ with you to paint the situation and recount the
circumstances, you should applaud me.
R. B.
* * * * *
CXIV.
TO MISS CHALMERS.
[The hint alluded to, was a whisper of the insolvency of Creech; but
the bailie was firm as the Bass. ]
_No date. _
Now for that wayward, unfortunate thing, myself. I have broke measures
with Creech, and last week I wrote him a frosty, keen letter. He
replied in terms of chastisement, and promised me upon his honour that
I should have the account on Monday; but this is Tuesday, and yet I
have not heard a word from him. God have mercy on me! a poor d--mned,
incautious, duped, unfortunate fool!
The sport, the miserable victim
of rebellious pride, hypochondriac imagination, agonizing sensibility,
and bedlam passions?
"I wish that I were dead, but I'm no like to die! " I had lately "a
hair-breadth 'scape in th' imminent deadly breach" of love too. Thank my
stars, I got off heart-whole, "waur fleyd than hurt. "--Interruption.
I have this moment got a hint: I fear I am something like--undone--but
I hope for the best. Come, stubborn pride and unshrinking resolution;
accompany me through this, to me, miserable world! You must not desert
me! Your friendship I think I can count on, though I should date my
letters from a marching regiment. Early in life, and all my life I
reckoned on a recruiting drum as my forlorn hope. Seriously though,
life at present presents me with but a melancholy path: but--my limb
will soon be sound, and I shall struggle on.
R. B.
* * * * *
CXV.
TO MISS CHALMERS.
[Although Burns gladly grasped at a situation in the Excise, he wrote
many apologies to his friends, for the acceptance of a place, which,
though humble enough, was the only one that offered.
characters--because I am too proud of my character as a man, to be
dazzled in my judgment for glaring wealth; and too proud of my
situation as a poor man to be biased against squalid poverty--I was
unacquainted with Miss K. 's very uncommon worth.
I am going on a good deal progressive in _mon grand but_, the sober
science of life. I have lately made some sacrifices, for which, were I
_viva voce_ with you to paint the situation and recount the
circumstances, you should applaud me.
R. B.
* * * * *
CXIV.
TO MISS CHALMERS.
[The hint alluded to, was a whisper of the insolvency of Creech; but
the bailie was firm as the Bass. ]
_No date. _
Now for that wayward, unfortunate thing, myself. I have broke measures
with Creech, and last week I wrote him a frosty, keen letter. He
replied in terms of chastisement, and promised me upon his honour that
I should have the account on Monday; but this is Tuesday, and yet I
have not heard a word from him. God have mercy on me! a poor d--mned,
incautious, duped, unfortunate fool!
The sport, the miserable victim
of rebellious pride, hypochondriac imagination, agonizing sensibility,
and bedlam passions?
"I wish that I were dead, but I'm no like to die! " I had lately "a
hair-breadth 'scape in th' imminent deadly breach" of love too. Thank my
stars, I got off heart-whole, "waur fleyd than hurt. "--Interruption.
I have this moment got a hint: I fear I am something like--undone--but
I hope for the best. Come, stubborn pride and unshrinking resolution;
accompany me through this, to me, miserable world! You must not desert
me! Your friendship I think I can count on, though I should date my
letters from a marching regiment. Early in life, and all my life I
reckoned on a recruiting drum as my forlorn hope. Seriously though,
life at present presents me with but a melancholy path: but--my limb
will soon be sound, and I shall struggle on.
R. B.
* * * * *
CXV.
TO MISS CHALMERS.
[Although Burns gladly grasped at a situation in the Excise, he wrote
many apologies to his friends, for the acceptance of a place, which,
though humble enough, was the only one that offered.
