No More Learning

WILLIAM PITT.

[This ironical letter to the prime minister was found among the papers
of Burns. ]

SIR,

While pursy burgesses crowd your gate, sweating under the weight of
heavy addresses, permit us, the quondam distillers in that part of
Great Britain called Scotland, to approach you, not with venal
approbation, but with fraternal condolence; not as what you are just
now, or for some time have been; but as what, in all probability, you
will shortly be. --We shall have the merit of not deserting our friends
in the day of their calamity, and you will have the satisfaction of
perusing at least one honest address. You are well acquainted with the
dissection of human nature; nor do you need the assistance of a
fellow-creature's bosom to inform you, that man is always a selfish,
often a perfidious being. --This assertion, however the hasty
conclusions of superficial observation may doubt of it, or the raw
inexperience of youth may deny it, those who make the fatal experiment
we have done, will feel. --You are a statesman, and consequently are
not ignorant of the traffic of these corporation compliments--The
little great man who drives the borough to market, and the very great
man who buys the borough in that market, they two do the whole
business; and you well know they, likewise, have their price. With
that sullen disdain which you can so well assume, rise, illustrious
Sir, and spurn these hireling efforts of venal stupidity. At best they
are the compliments of a man's friends on the morning of his
execution: they take a decent farewell, resign you to your fate, and
hurry away from your approaching hour.

If fame say true, and omens be not very much mistaken, you are about
to make your exit from that world where the sun of gladness gilds the
paths of prosperous man: permit us, great Sir, with the sympathy of
fellow-feeling to hail your passage to the realms of ruin.

Whether the sentiment proceed from the selfishness or cowardice of
mankind is immaterial; but to point out to a child of misfortune those
who are still more unhappy, is to give him some degree of positive
enjoyment. In this light, Sir, our downfall may be again useful to
you:--though not exactly in the same way, it is not perhaps the first
time it has gratified your feelings. It is true, the triumph of your
evil star is exceedingly despiteful. --At an age when others are the
votaries of pleasure, or underlings in business, you had attained the
highest wish of a British statesman; and with the ordinary date of
human life, what a prospect was before you! Deeply rooted in _Royal
favour_, you overshadowed the land.
The birds of passage, which follow
ministerial sunshine through every clime of political faith and
manners, flocked to your branches; and the beasts of the field (the
lordly possessors of hills and valleys) crowded under your shade. "But
behold a watcher, a holy one, came down from heaven, and cried aloud,
and said thus: Hew down the tree, and cut off his branches; shake off
his leaves, and scatter his fruit; let the beasts get away from under
it, and the fowls from his branches! " A blow from an unthought-of
quarter, one of those terrible accidents which peculiarly mark the
hand of Omnipotence, overset your career, and laid all your fancied
honours in the dust. But turn your eyes, Sir, to the tragic scenes of
our fate:--an ancient nation, that for many ages had gallantly
maintained the unequal struggle for independence with her much more
powerful neighbour, at last agrees to a union which should ever after
make them one people. In consideration of certain circumstances, it
was covenanted that the former should enjoy a stipulated alleviation
in her share of the public burdens, particularly in that branch of
the revenue called the Excise. This just privilege has of late given
great umbrage to some interested, powerful individuals of the more
potent part of the empire, and they have spared no wicked pains, under
insidious pretexts, to subvert what they dared not openly to attack,
from the dread which they yet entertained of the spirit of their
ancient enemies.

In this conspiracy we fell; nor did we alone suffer, our country was
deeply wounded. A number of (we will say) respectable individuals,
largely engaged in trade, where we were not only useful, but
absolutely necessary to our country in her dearest interests; we, with
all that was near and dear to us, were sacrificed without remorse, to
the infernal deity of political expediency! We fell to gratify the
wishes of dark envy, and the views of unprincipled ambition! Your
foes, Sir, were avowed; were too brave to take an ungenerous
advantage; _you_ fell in the face of day. --On the contrary, our
enemies, to complete our overthrow, contrived to make their guilt
appear the villany of a nation. --Your downfall only drags with you
your private friends and partisans: in our misery are more or less
involved the most numerous and most valuable part of the
community--all those who immediately depend on the cultivation of the
soil, from the landlord of a province, down to his lowest hind.

Allow us, Sir, yet further, just to hint at another rich vein of
comfort in the dreary regions of adversity;--the gratulations of an
approving conscience. In a certain great assembly, of which you are a
distinguished member, panegyrics on your private virtues have so often
wounded your delicacy, that we shall not distress you with anything on
the subject. There is, however, one part of your public conduct which
our feelings will not permit us to pass in silence: our gratitude must
trespass on your modesty; we mean, worthy Sir, your whole behaviour to
the Scots Distillers. --In evil hours, when obtrusive recollection
presses bitterly on the sense, let that, Sir, come like an healing
angel, and speak the peace to your soul which the world can neither
give nor take away.