My rude unpolish'd strokes but taint Their brilliancy; Th' attempt would doubtless vex a saint, The task I'll drop; with heart sincere To Robert Burns. Sir, I hope you will pardon my boldness in this; my hand trembles while I write to you, conscious of my unworthiness of what I would most earnestly solicit, viz. your favour and friendship; yet hoping you will shew yourself possessed of as much generosity and good nature as will prevent your exposing what may justly be found liable to censure in this measure, I shall take the liberty to subscribe myself, Sir, your most obedient humble servant, JANET LITTLE. P. S. If you would condescend to honour me with a few lines from your hand, I would take it as a particular favour, and direct to me at Loudon house, near Galsloc. No. LXXVIII. My dear sir, From Mr. ****** London, 5th August, 1789. Excuse me when I say, that the uncommon abilities which you possess, must render your correspondence very acceptable to any one. I can assure you, I am particularly proud of your partial ity, and shall endeavour, by every method in my power, to merit a continuance of your politeness. When you can spare a few moments, I should be proud of a letter from you, directed for me, Gerrard-street, Soho. I cannot express my happiness sufficiently at the instance of your attachment to my late inestimable friend, Bob Fergusson, who was particularly intimate with myself and relations. While I recollect with pleasure his extraordinary talents, and many amiable qualities, it affords me the greatest consolation, that I am honoured with the correspondence of his successor, in national simplicity and genius. That Mr. Burns has refined in the art of poetry, must readily be admitted; but notwithstanding many favourable representations, I am yet to learn that he inherits his convivial pow. ers. There was such a richness of conversation, such a plenitude of fancy and attraction in him, that when I call the happy period of our intercourse to my memory, I feel myself in a state of delirium, I was then younger than him by eight or ten years, but his manner was so felicitous, that he enraptured every person around him, and infused into the hearts of the young and old, the spirit and animation which operated on his own mind. I am, dear sir, yours, &c. The erection of a monument to him. E. My dear sir, No. LXXIX. To Mr. ******, In answer to the foregoing. The hurry of a farmer in this particular season, and the indolence of a poet at all times and seasons, will, I hope, plead my excuse for neglecting so long to answer your obliging letter of the fifth of August, That you have done well in quitting your la borious concern in I do not doubt; the weighty reasons you mention, were, I hope, very, and deservedly indeed, weighty ones, and your health is a matter of the last importance; but whether the remaining proprietors of the pa per have also done well, is what I much doubt. The ****, so far as I was a reader, exhibited such a brilliancy of point, such an elegance of paragraph, and such a variety of intelligence, that I can hardly conceive it possible to continue a daily paper in the same degree of excellence; but if there was a man who had abilities equal to the task, that man's assistance the proprietors have lost. * When I received your letter I was transcribing for , my letter to the magistrates of the Canongate, Edinburgh, begging their permission to place a tomb-stone over poor Fergusson, and their edict in consequence of my petition, but now I shall send them to Poor Fergusson! If there be a life beyond the grave, which I trust there is; and if there be a good God presiding over all nature, which I am sure there is; thou art now enjoying existence in a glorious world, where worth of the heart alone is distinction in the man; where riches, deprived of all their pleasure-purchasing powers, return to their native sordid matter; where titles and ho are the disregarded reveries of an idle dream; and where that heavy virtue, which is the negative consequence of steady dulness, and those thoughtless, though often destructive follies, which are the unavoidable aberrations of frail human nature, will be thrown into equal oblivion as if they had never been! Adieu, my dear sir! So soon as your present views and sehemes are concentred in an aim, I shall be glad to hear from you; as your welfare and happiness is by no means a subject indiffer ent to Yours, &c. No. LXXX. To Miss WILLIAMS. Madam, 1789. Of the many problems in the nature of that wonderful creature, man, this is one of the most extraordinary, that he shall go on from day to day, from week to week, from month to month, or perhaps from year to year, suffering a hundred times more in an hour from the impotent consciousness of neglecting what he ought to do, than the very doing of it would cost him. I am deeply indebted to you, first for a most elegant poetic compli ment; then for a polite, obliging letter; and Lastly for your excellent poem on the Slavetrade; and yet, wretch that I am! though the debts were debts of honour, and the creditor a lady, I have put off and put off even the very aeknowledgment of the obligation, until you must • See page 28. indeed be the very angel I take you for, if you ean forgive me. Your poem I have read with the highest pleaI have a way, whenever I read a book, I mean a book in our own trade, madam, a poetic one, and when it is my own property, that I take a pencil and mark at the ends of verses, or note on margins and odd paper, little criticisms of approbation or disapprobation as I peruse along. I will make no apology for presenting you with a few unconnected thoughts that occurred to me in my repeated perusals of your poem. I want to shew you that I have honesty enough to tell you what I take to be truths, even when they are not quite on the side of approbation; and I do it in the firm faith that you have equal greatness of mind to hear them with pleasure. I had lately the honour of a letter from Dr. Moore, where he tells me that he has sent me some books. They are not yet come to hand, but I hear they are on the way. Wishing you all success in your progress in the path of fame; and that you may equally escape the danger of stumbling through incautious speed, or losing ground through loitering neglect, I have the honour to be, &c. No. LXXXI. From Miss WILLIAMS. Dear sir, 7th August, 1789. I do not lose a moment in returning you my sincere acknowledgments for your letter, and your criticism on ny poem, which is a very flattering proof that you have read it with attention. I think your objections are perfectly just, except in one instance |