The Complete Works of Robert Burns
Chapter 241 : No! I will not attempt an apology.--Amid all my hurry of business, grinding the faces

No! I will not attempt an apology.--Amid all my hurry of business, grinding the faces of the publican and the sinner on the merciless wheels of the Excise; making ballads, and then drinking, and singing them! and, over and above all, the correcting the press-work of two different publications; still, still I might have stolen five minutes to dedicate to one of the first of my friends and fellow-creatures. I might have done as I do at present, s.n.a.t.c.hed an hour near "witching time of night," and scrawled a page or two. I might have congratulated my friend on his marriage; or I might have thanked the Caledonian archers for the honour they have done me (though, to do myself justice, I intended to have done both in rhyme, else I had done both long ere now). Well, then, here's to your good health! for you must know, I have set a nipperkin of toddy by me, just by way of spell, to keep away the meikle horned deil, or any of his subaltern imps who may be on their nightly rounds.

But what shall I write to you?--"The voice said cry," and I said, "what shall I cry?"--O, thou spirit! whatever thou art, or wherever thou makest thyself visible! be thou a bogle by the eerie side of an auld thorn, in the dreary glen through which the herd-callan maun bicker in his gloamin route frae the faulde!--Be thou a brownie, set, at dead of night, to thy task by the blazing ingle, or in the solitary barn, where the repercussions of thy iron flail half affright thyself as thou performest the work of twenty of the sons of men, ere the c.o.c.k-crowing summon thee to thy ample cog of substantial brose--Be thou a kelpie, haunting the ford or ferry, in the starless night, mixing thy laughing yell with the howling of the storm and the roaring of the flood, as thou viewest the perils and miseries of man on the foundering horse, or in the tumbling boat!--or, lastly, be thou a ghost, paying thy nocturnal visits to the h.o.a.ry ruins of decayed grandeur; or performing thy mystic rites in the shadow of the time-worn church, while the moon looks, without a cloud, on the silent ghastly dwellings of the dead around thee! or taking thy stand by the bedside of the villain, or the murderer, pourtraying on his dreaming fancy, pictures, dreadful as the horrors of unveiled h.e.l.l, and terrible as the wrath of incensed Deity!--Come, thou spirit, but not in these horrid forms; come with the milder, gentle, easy inspirations, which thou breathest round the wig of a prating advocate, or the tete of a tea-sipping gossip, while their tongues run at the light-horse gallop of clishmaclaver for ever and ever--come and a.s.sist a poor devil who is quite jaded in the attempt to share half an idea among half a hundred words; to fill up four quarto pages, while he has not got one single sentence of recollection, information, or remark worth putting pen to paper for.

I feel, I feel the presence of supernatural a.s.sistance! circled in the embrace of my elbowchair, my breast labours, like the bloated Sybil on her three-footed stool, and like her, too, labours with Nonsense.--Nonsense, suspicious name! Tutor, friend, and finger-post in the mystic mazes of law; the cadaverous paths of physic; and particularly in the sightless soarings of SCHOOL DIVINITY, who, leaving Common Sense confounded at his strength of pinion, Reason, delirious with eyeing his giddy flight; and Truth creeping back into the bottom of her well, cursing the hour that ever she offered her scorned alliance to the wizard power of Theologic Vision--raves abroad on all the winds. "On earth Discord! a gloomy Heaven above, opening her jealous gates to the nineteenth thousandth part of the t.i.the of mankind; and below, an inescapable and inexorable h.e.l.l, expanding its leviathan jaws for the vast residue of mortals!!!"--O doctrine! comfortable and healing to the weary, wounded soul of man! Ye sons and daughters of affliction, ye _pauvres miserables_, to whom day brings no pleasure, and night yields no rest, be comforted! "'Tis but _one_ to nineteen hundred thousand that your situation will mend in this world;" so, alas, the experience of the poor and the needy too often affirms; and 'tis nineteen hundred thousand sand to _one_, by the dogmas of * * * * * * * * that you will be d.a.m.ned eternally in the world to come!

But of all nonsense, religious nonsense is the most nonsensical; so enough, and more than enough of it. Only, by the by, will you or can you tell me, my dear Cunningham, why a sectarian turn of mind has always a tendency to narrow and illiberalize the heart? They are orderly; they may be just; nay, I have known them merciful: but still your children of sanct.i.ty move among their fellow-creatures with a nostril-snuffing putrescence, and a foot-spurning filth, in short, with a conceited dignity that your t.i.tled * * * * * * * * or any other of your Scottish lordlings of seven centuries standing, display when they accidentally mix among the many-ap.r.o.ned sons of mechanical life. I remember, in my plough-boy days, I could not conceive it possible that a n.o.ble lord could be a fool, or a G.o.dly man could be a knave--How ignorant are plough-boys!--Nay, I have since discovered that a _G.o.dly woman_ may be a *****!--But hold--Here's t'ye again--this rum is generous Antigua, so a very unfit menstruum for scandal.

Apropos, how do you like, I mean _really_ like, the married life? Ah, my friend! matrimony is quite a different thing from what your love-sick youths and sighing girls take it to be! But marriage, we are told, is appointed by G.o.d, and I shall never quarrel with any of his inst.i.tutions. I am a husband of older standing than you, and shall give you _my_ ideas of the conjugal state, (_en pa.s.sant_; you know I am no Latinist, is not _conjugal_ derived from _jugum_, a yoke?) Well, then, the scale of good wifes.h.i.+p I divide into ten parts:--good-nature, four; good sense, two; wit, one; personal charms, viz. a sweet face, eloquent eyes, fine limbs, graceful carriage (I would add a fine waist too, but that is so soon spoilt you know), all these, one; as for the other qualities belonging to, or attending on, a wife, such as fortune, connexions, education (I mean education extraordinary) family, blood, &c., divide the two remaining degrees among them as you please; only, remember that all these minor properties must be expressed by _fractions_, for there is not any one of them, in the aforesaid scale, ent.i.tled to the dignity of an _integer._

As for the rest of my fancies and reveries--how I lately met with Miss Lesley Baillie, the most beautiful, elegant woman in the world--how I accompanied her and her father's family fifteen miles on their journey, out of pure devotion, to admire the loveliness of the works of G.o.d, in such an unequalled display of them--how, in galloping home at night, I made a ballad on her, of which these two stanzas make a part--

Thou, bonny Lesley, art a queen, Thy subjects we before thee; Thou, bonny Lesley, art divine, The hearts o' men adore thee.

The very deil he could na scathe Whatever wad belang thee!

He'd look into thy bonnie face And say, "I canna wrang thee."

--behold all these things are written in the chronicles of my imaginations, and shall be read by thee, my dear friend, and by thy beloved spouse, my other dear friend, at a more convenient season.

Now, to thee, and to thy before-designed _bosom_-companion, be given the precious things brought forth by the sun, and the precious things brought forth by the moon, and the benignest influences of the stars, and the living streams which flow from the fountains of life, and by the tree of life, for ever and ever! Amen!

CCx.x.xIV.

TO MR. THOMSON.

[George Thomson, of Edinburgh, princ.i.p.al clerk to the trustees for the encouraging the manufactures of Scotland, projected a work, ent.i.tled, "A select Collection of Original Scottish Airs, for the Voice, to which are added introductory and concluding Symphonies and Accompaniments for the Pianoforte and Violin, by Pleyel and Kozeluch, with select and characteristic Verses, by the most admired Scottish Poets." To Burns he applied for help in the verse: he could not find a truer poet, nor one to whom such a work was more congenial.]

_Dumfries, 16th Sept. 1792._

SIR,

I have just this moment got your letter. As the request you make to me will positively add to my enjoyments in complying with it, I shall enter into your undertaking with all the small portion of abilities I have, strained to their utmost exertion by the impulse of enthusiasm.

Only, don't hurry me--"Deil tak the hindmost" is by no means the _cri de guerre_ of my muse. Will you, as I am inferior to none of you in enthusiastic attachment to the poetry and music of old Caledonia, and, since you request it, have cheerfully promised my mite of a.s.sistance--will you let me have a list of your airs with the first line of the printed verses you intend for them, that I may have an opportunity of suggesting any alteration that may occur to me? You know 'tis in the way of my trade; still leaving you, gentlemen, the undoubted right of publishers to approve or reject, at your pleasure, for your own publication. Apropos, if you are for English verses, there is, on my part, an end of the matter. Whether in the simplicity of the Ballad, or the pathos of the song, I can only hope to please myself in being allowed at least a sprinkling of our native tongue.

English verses, particularly the works of Scotsmen, that have merit, are certainly very eligible. "Tweedside'" "Ah! the poor shepherd's mournful fate!" "Ah! Chloris, could I now but sit," &c., you cannot mend;[199] but such insipid stuff as "To f.a.n.n.y fair could I impart,"

&c., usually set to "The Mill, Mill, O!" is a disgrace to the collections in which it has already appeared, and would doubly disgrace a collection that will have the very superior merit of yours.

But more of this in the further prosecution of the business, if I am called on for my strictures and amendments--I say amendments, for I will not alter except where I myself, at least, think that I amend.

As to any remuneration, you may think my songs either above or below price; for they should absolutely be the one or the other. In the honest enthusiasm with which I embark in your undertaking, to talk of money, wages, fee, hire, &c., would be downright prost.i.tution of soul!

a proof of each of the song that I compose or amend, I shall receive as a favour. In the rustic phrase of the season, "Gude speed the wark!"

I am, Sir,

Your very humble servant,

R. B.

FOOTNOTES:

[Footnote 199: "Tweedside" is by Crawfurd; "Ah, the poor shepherd," &c., by Hamilton, of Bangour; "Ah! Chloris," &c., by Sir Charles Sedley--Burns has attributed it to Sir Peter Halket, of Pitferran.]

CCx.x.xV.

TO MRS. DUNLOP.

[One of the daughters of Mrs. Dunlop was married to M. Henri, a French gentleman, who died in 1790, at Loudon Castle, in Ayrs.h.i.+re. The widow went with her orphan son to France, and lived for awhile amid the dangers of the revolution.]

_Dumfries, 24th September, 1792._

I have this moment, my dear Madam, yours of the twenty-third. All your other kind reproaches, your news, &c., are out of my head when I read and think on Mrs. H----'s situation. Good G.o.d! a heart-wounded helpless young woman--in a strange, foreign land, and that land convulsed with every horror that can harrow the human feelings--sick--looking, longing for a comforter, but finding none--a mother's feelings, too:--but it is too much: he who wounded (he only can) may He heal!

I wish the farmer great joy of his new acquisition to his family.

* * * * * I cannot say that I give him joy of his life as a farmer. 'Tis, as a farmer paying a dear, unconscionable rent, a _cursed life_! As to a laird farming his own property; sowing his own corn in hope; and reaping it, in spite of brittle weather, in gladness; knowing that none can say unto him, 'what dost thou?'--fattening his herds; shearing his flocks; rejoicing at Christmas; and begetting sons and daughters, until he be the venerated, gray-haired leader of a little tribe--'tis a heavenly life! but devil take the life of reaping the fruits that another must eat.

Well, your kind wishes will be gratified, as to seeing me when I make my Ayrs.h.i.+re visit. I cannot leave Mrs. B----, until her nine months'

race is run, which may perhaps be in three or four weeks. She, too, seems determined to make me the patriarchal leader of a band. However, if Heaven will be so obliging as to let me have them in the proportion of three boys to one girl, I shall be so much the more pleased. I hope, if I am spared with them, to show a set of boys that will do honour to my cares and name; but I am not equal to the task of rearing girls. Besides, I am too poor; a girl should always have a fortune.

Apropos, your little G.o.dson is thriving charmingly, but is a very devil. He, though two years younger, has completely mastered his brother. Robert is indeed the mildest, gentlest creature I ever saw.

He has a most surprising memory, and is quite the pride of his schoolmaster.

You know how readily we get into prattle upon a subject dear to our heart: you can excuse it. G.o.d bless you and yours!

R. B.

CCx.x.xVI.

TO MRS. DUNLOP.

[This letter has no date: it is supposed to have been written on the death of her daughter, Mrs. Henri, whose orphan son, deprived of the protection of all his relations, was preserved by the affectionate kindness of Mademoiselle Susette, one of the family domestics, and after the Revolution obtained the estate of his blood and name.]

I had been from home, and did not receive your letter until my return the other day. What shall I say to comfort you, my much-valued, much-afflicted friend! I can but grieve with you; consolation I have none to offer, except that which religion holds out to the children of affliction--_children of affliction!_--how just the expression! and like every other family they have matters among them which they hear, see, and feel in a serious, all-important manner, of which the world has not, nor cares to have, any idea. The world looks indifferently on, makes the pa.s.sing remark, and proceeds to the next novel occurrence.