No. XXIX. had to stand a severe trial. I am happy that you have stood it so well; and as far as I have known or heard, though in the midst of many TO THE REVEREND DR HUGH temptations, without reproach to your charac BLAIR. ter and behaviour. You are now, I presume, to retire to a more Lawn-Market, Edinburgh, 3d May, 1787. private walk of life; and I trust, will conduct REVEREND AND MUCH RESPECTED SIR, I LEAVE Edinburgh to morrow morning, but could not go without troubling you with half a line, sincerely to thank you for the kindness, patronage, and friendship you have shown me. I often felt the embarrassment of my singular situation; drawn forth from the veriest shades of life to the glare of remark; and honoured by the notice of those illustrious names of my country, whose works, while they are applauded to the end of time, will ever instruct and mend the heart. However the meteor-like novelty of my appearance in the world might attract notice, and honour me with the acquaintance of the permanent lights of genius and literature, those who are truly benefactors of the immortal nature of man; I knew very well, that my utmost merit was far unequal to the task of preserving that character when once the novelty was over. I have made up my mind, that abuse, or almost even neglect, will not surprise me in my quarters. I have sent you a proof impression of Beugo's work for me, done on Indian paper, as a trifling but sincere testimony with what heartwarin gratitude I am, &c. No. XXX. FROM DR BLAIR. Argyle-Square, Edinburgh, 4th May, 1787. DEAR SIR, I WAS favoured this forenoon with your very obliging letter, together with an impression of your portrait, for which I return you my best thanks. The success you have met with I do not think was beyond your merits; and if I have had any small hand in contributing to it, it gives me great pleasure. I know no way in which literary persons, who are advanced in years, can do more service to the world, than in forwarding the efforts of rising genius, or bringing forth unknown merit from obscurity. I was the first person who brought out to the notice of the world, the poems of Ossian: first by the Fragments of Ancient Poetry which I published, and afterwards, by my setting on foot the undertaking for collecting and publishing the Works of Ossian; and I have always considered this as a meritorious action of my life. Your situation, as you say, was indeed very singular; and, in being brought out all at once from the shades of deepest privacy, to so great a share of public notice and observation, you yourself there with industry, prudence, and honour. You have laid the foundation for just public esteem. In the midst of those employments, which your situation will render proper, you will not, I hope, neglect to promote that esteem, by cultivating your genius, and attending to such productions of it as may raise your character still higher. At the same time, be not in too great a haste to come forward. Take time and leisure to improve and mature your talents; for on any second production you give the world, your fate, as a poet, will very much depend. There is, no doubt, a gloss of novelty which time wears off. As you very properly hint yourself, you are not to be surprised if, in your rural retreat, you do not find yourself surrounded with that glare of notice and applause which here shone upon you. No man can be a good poet without being somewhat of a philosopher. He must lay his account, that any one, who exposes himself to public observation, will occasionally meet with the attacks of illiberal censure, which it is always best to overlook and despise. He will be inclined sometimes to court retreat, and to disappear from public view. He will not affect to shine always, that he may at proper seasons come forth with more advantage and energy. He will not think himself neglected if he be not always praised. I have taken the liberty, you see, of an old man, to give advice and make reflections which your own good sense will, I dare say, render unnecessary. As you mention your being just about to leave town, you are going, I should suppose, to Dumfriesshire, to look at some of Mr Miller's farms. I heartily wish the offers to be made you there may answer; as I am persuaded you will not easily find a more generous and better hearted proprietor to live under than Mr Miller. When you return, if you come this way, I will be happy to see you, and to know concerning your future plans of life. You will find me, by the 22d of this month, not in my house in Argyle Square, but at a country-house at Restalrig, about a mile east from Edinburgh, near the Musselburgh road. Wishing you all success and prosperity, I am, with real regard and esteem, Dear Sir, Yours sincerely, HUGH BLAIR. No. XXXI. FROM DR MOORE. DEAR SIR, Glifford Street, May 23, 1787. I HAD the pleasure of your letter by Mr Creech, and soon after he sent me the new edition of your poems. You seem to think it incumbent on you to send to each subscriber a number of copies proportionate to his subscription money; but you may depend upon it, few subscribers expect more than one copy, whatever they subscribed. I must inform you, however, that I took twelve copies for those subscribers for whose money you were so accurate as to send me a receipt; and Lord Eglinton told me he had sent for six copies for himself, as he wished to give five of them in presents. tain you are capable of making a better use of it, when attained, than is generally done. I beg you will not give yourself the trouble of writing to me when it is inconvenient, and make no apology, when you do write, for having postponed it; be assured of this, however, that I shall always be happy to hear from you. I think my friend Mr told me that you had some poems in manuscript by you of a satirical and humorous nature (in which, by the way, I think you very strong,) which your prudent friends prevailed on you to omit, particularly one called Somebody's Confession; if you will intrust me with a sight of any of these, I will pawn my word to give no copies, and will be obliged to you for a perusal of them. sincerely hope that you may afford an example Your friend and obedient Servant, I understand you intend to take a farm, and make the useful and respectable business of Some of the poems you have added in this husbandry your chief occupation; this, I hope, last edition are beautiful, particularly the Win-will not prevent your making occasional adter Night, the Address to Edinburgh, Green dresses to the nine ladies who have shown you grow the Rashes, and the two songs immedi- such favour, one of whom visited you in the ately following; the latter of which was ex-auld clay biggin. Virgil, before you, proved quisite. By the way, I imagine you have a to the world that there is nothing in the busipeculiar talent for such compositions, which ness of husbandry inimical to poetry; and I you ought to indulge. No kind of poetry demands more delicacy or higher polishing. Horace is more admired on account of his Odes than all his other writings. But nothing now added is equal to your Vision and Cotlar's Saturday Night. In these are united fine imagery, natural and pathetic description, with sublimity of language and thought. It is evident that you already possess a great variety of expression and command of the English language; you ought, therefore, to deal more sparingly for the future in the provincial dialect:why should you, by using that, limit the number of your admirers to those who understand the Scottish, when you can extend it to all persons of taste who understand the English language? In my opinion, you should plan some larger work than any you have as yet attempted. I mean, reflect upon some proper subject, and arrange the plan in your mind, without beginning to execute any part of it till you have studied most of the best English poets, and read a little more of history. The Greek and Roman stories you can read in some abridgment, and soon become master of the most brilliant facts, which must highly delight a poetical mind. You should also, and very soon may, become master of the heathen mythology, to which there are everlasting allusions in all the poets, and which in itself is charmingly fanciful. What will require to be studied with more attention, is modern history; that is, the history of France and Great Britain, from the beginning of Henry the Seventh's eign. I know very well you have a mind capable of attaining knowledge by a shorter process than is commonly used, and I am cer * His subsequent compositions will bear testimony to the accuracy of Dr Moore's judgment. No. XXXII. FROM MR JOHN HUTCHINSON. SIR, Jamaica, St Ann's, 14th June, 1787. I RECEIVED yours, dated Edinburgh, 2d January, 1787, wherein you acquaint me you were engaged with Mr Douglas of Port Antonio, for three years, at thirty pounds sterling a-year; and am happy some unexpected accidents intervened that prevented your sailing with the vessel, as I have great reason to think Mr Douglas's employ would by no means have answered your expectations. I received a copy of your publications, for which I return you my thanks, and it is my own opinion, as well as that of such of my friends as have seen them, they are most excellent in their kind; although some could have wished they had been in the English style, as they allege the Scottish dialect is now becoming obsolete, and thereby the elegance and beauties of your poems are in a great measure lost to far the greater part of the community. Nevertheless there is no doubt you had sufficient reasons for B that polite, agreeable company, raises an honest glow in my bosom. No. XXXIV. TO MR GILBERT BURNS. Edinburgh, 17th September, 1787. MY DEAR BROTHER, your conduct-perhaps the wishes of some of the Scottish nobility and gentry, your patrons, who will always relish their own old country style; and your own inclinations for the same. It is evident from several passages in your works, you are as capable of writing in the English as in the Scottish dialect, and I am in great hopes your genius for poetry, from the specimen you have already given, will turn out both for profit and honour to yourself and country. I can by no means advise you now to think of coming to the West Indies, as, II ARRIVED here safe yesterday evening, after a assure you, there is no encouragement for a man of learning and genius here; and am very confident you can do far better in Great Britain, than in Jamaica. I am glad to hear my friends are well, and shall always be happy to hear from you at all convenient opportunities, wishing you success in all your undertakings. I will esteem it a particular favour if you will send me a copy of the other edition you are now printing. I am, with respect, JOHN HUTCHINSON. No. XXXIII. TO MR WALKER, BLAIR OF Inverness, 5th September, 1787. MY DEAR SIR, I HAVE just time to write the foregoing, and to tell you that it was (at least most part of it,) the effusion of an half hour I spent at Bruar. I do not mean it was extempore, for I have endeavoured to brush it up as well as Mr N's chat, and the jogging of the chaise, would allow. It eases my heart a good deal, as rhyme is the coin with which a poet pays his debts of honour or gratitude. What I owe to the noble family of Athole, of the first kind, I shall ever proudly boast; what I owe of the last, so help me God in my hour of need, I shall never forget. tour of twenty-two days, and travelling near six hundred miles, windings included. My farthest stretch was about ten miles beyond Inverness. I went through the heart of the Highlands, by Crieff, Taymouth, the famous seat of Lord Breadalbane, down the Tay, among cascades and druidical circles of stones to Dunkeld, a seat of the Duke of Athole; thence cross Tay, and up one of his tributary streams to Blair of Athole, another of the Duke's seats, where I had the honour of spending nearly two days with his Grace and family; thence many miles through a wild country, among cliffs grey with eternal snows, and gloomy savage glens, till I crossed Spey and went down the stream through Strathspey, so famous in Scottish music, Badenoch, &c. till I reached Grant Castle, where I spent half a day with Sir James Grant and family; and then crossed the country for Fort George, but called by the way at Cawdor, the ancient seat of Macbeth; there I saw the identical bed in which, tradition says, King Duncan was murdered: lastly, from Fort George to Inverness. I returned by the coast, through Nairn, Forres, and so on, to Aberdeen; thence to Stonehive, where James Burnes, from Montrose, met me by appointment. I spent two days among our relations, and found our aunts, Jean and Isabel, still alive, and hale old women. John Caird, though born the same year with our father, walks as vigorously as I can ; they have had several letters from his son in New York. William Brand is likewise a stout old fellow: but further particulars I delay till I see you, which will be in two or three The little "angel band!"--I declare I pray- weeks. The rest of my stages are not worth ed for them very sincerely to-day at the Fall rehearsing: warm as I was from Ossian's of Fyars. I shall never forget the fine family-country, where I had seen his very grave, what piece I saw at Blair; the amiable, the truly noble Duchess, with her smiling little seraph in her lap, at the head of the table; the lovely "olive plants," as the Hebrew bard finely says, round the happy mother; the beautiful Mrs G; the lovely, sweet Miss C. &c. I wish I had the powers of Guido to do them justice! My Lord Duke's kind hospitality, markedly kind, indeed-Mr G. of F's charms of conversation-Sir W. M's friendship-in short, the recollection of all "The humble Petition of Bruar- Water to the Duke of Athole." cared I for fishing towns or fertile carses? I slept at the famous Brodie of Brodie's one night, and dined at Gordon Castle next day with the Duke, Duchess, and family. I am thinking to cause my old mare to meet me, by means of John Ronald, at Glasgow; but you shall hear farther from me before I leave Edinburgh. My duty, and many compliments from the north, to my mother, and my brotherly compliments to the rest. I have been trying for a birth for William, but am not likely to be successful.-Farewell. SIR, No. XXXV. FROM MR R. Ochtertyre, 22d October, 1787. 'Twas only yesterday I got Colonel Edmonstoune's answer, that neither the words of Down the burn Davie, nor Dainty Davie (I forgot which you mentioned), were written by Colonel G. Crawford. Next time I meet him, I will inquire about his cousin's poetical talents. Enclosed are the inscriptions you requested, and a letter to Mr Young, whose company and musical talents will, I am persuaded, be a feast to you. Nobody can give you better hints, as to your present plan, than he. Receive also Omeron Cameron, which seemed to make such a deep impression on your imagination, that I am not without hopes it will beget something to delight the public in due time: and, no doubt, the circumstances of this little tale might be varied or extended, so as to make part of a pastoral comedy. Age or wounds might have kept Omeron at home, whilst his countrymen were in the field. His station may be somewhat varied, without losing his simplicity and kindness****. A group of characters, male and female, connected with the plot, might be formed from his family, or some neighbouring one of rank. It is not indispensable that the guest should be a man of high station; nor is the political quarrel in which he is engaged, of much importance, un less to call forth the exercise of generosity and These Inscriptions, so much admired by Burns, are faithfulness, grafted on patriarchal hospitality. below: WRITTEN IN 1768. FOR THE SALICTUM† AT OCHTERTYRE. SALUBRITATIS voluptatisque causa, Silvulas inter nascentes reptandi, Hic, si faxit Deus opt. max. ENGLISHED. To improve both air and soil, I drain and decorate this plantation of willows, Now fondly marking the progress of my trees, With some surviving friend of my youth; And happy with my lot. To introduce state affairs, would raise the style above comedy; though a small spice of them would season the converse of swains. Upon this head I cannot say more than to recommend the study of the character of Eumæus in the Odyssey, which, in Mr Pope's translation, is an exquisite and invaluable drawing from nature, that would suit some of our country elders of the present day. There must be love in the plot, and a happy discovery; and peace and pardon may be the reward of hospitality, and honest attachment to misguided principles. When you have once thought of a plot, and brought the story into form, Dr Blacklock, or Mr H. Mackenzie, may be useful in dividing it into acts and scenes; for in these matters one must pay some attention to certain rules of the drama. These you could afterwards fill up at your leisure. But, whilst I presume to give a few well-meant hints, let me advise you to study the spirit of my namesake's dialogue,* which is natural without being low, and, under the trammels of verse, is such as country people in their situations speak every day. You have only to bring down your own strain a very little. A great plan, such as this, would concenter all your ideas, which facilitates the execution, and makes it a part of one's pleasure. I approve of your plan of retiring from din and dissipation to a farm of very moderate size, ABOVE THE DOOR OF THE HOUSE. MIHI meisque utinam contingat, +Salictum-Grove of Willows, Willow-ground. ENGLISHED, On the banks of the Teith, May I and mine live in peace, These inscriptions, and the translations, are in the hand-writing of Mr R. This gentleman, if still alive, will, it is hoped, excu-e the liberty taken by the unknown editor, in enriching the correspondence of Burns with his excellent letter, and with inscriptions so classical and so interesting. * Allan Ramsay, in the Gentle Shepherd. sufficient to find exercise for mind and body, but not so great as to absorb better things. And if some intellectual pursuit be well chosen and steadily pursued, it will be more lucrative than most farms, in this age of rapid improvement. No. XXXVI. FROM MR W Athole House, 13th September, 1787. YOUR letter of the 5th reached me only on the 11th; what awkward route it had taken 1 know not; but it deprived me of the pleasure of writing to you in the manner you proposed, as you must have left Dundee before a letter could possibly have got there. I hope your disappointment on being forced to leave us was as great as appeared from your expressions. This is the best consolation for the greatness of ours. I still think with vexation on that ill-timed indisposition which lost me a day's enjoyment of a man (I speak without flattery) possessed of those very dispositions and talents I most admire; one Upon this subject, as your well-wisher and admirer, permit me to go a step farther. Let those bright talents which the Almighty has bestowed on you, be henceforth employed to the noble purpose of supporting the cause of truth and virtue. An imagination so varied and forcible as yours, may do this in many different modes; nor is it necessary to be always serious, which you have been to good purpose; good morals may be recommended in a comedy, or even in a song. Great allowances are due to the heat and inexperience of youth;-and few poets can boast, like Thomson, of never baving written a line, which, dying, they would wish to blot. In particular, I wish you to keep clear of the thorny walks of satire, which makes a man a hundred enemies for one friend, and is doubly dangerous when one is supposed to extend the slips and weaknesses of individuals to their sect or party. About modes of faith, serious and excellent men have always feed the stranger. "Kill our only cow!" said she, differed; and there are certain curious ques-"our own and our little children's principal support!" tions, which may afford scope to men of metaphysical heads, but seldom mend the heart or temper. Whilst these points are beyond human ken, it is sufficient that all our sects concur in their views of morals. You will forgive me for these hints. Well! what think you of good Lady C.? It is a pity she is so deaf, and speaks so indistinctly. Her house is a specimen of the mansions of our gentry of the last age, when hospitality and elevation of mind were conspicuous amidst plain fare and plain furniture. I shall be glad to hear from you at times, if it were no more than to show that you take the effusions of an obscure man like me in good part. I beg my best respects to Dr and Mrs Blacklock, And am, Sir, Your most obedient humble servant. * TALE OF OMERON CAMERON. In one of the wars betwixt the Crown of Scotland and the Lords of the Isles, Alexander Stewart, Earl of Mar (a distinguished character in the fifteenth century), and Donald Stewart, Earl of Caithness, had the command of the royal army. They marched into Lochaber, with a view of attacking a body of M'Donalds, commanded by Donald Balloch, and posted upon an arm of the sea which intersects that country. Having timely intelligence of their approach, the insurgents got off precipitately to the opposite shore in their curaghs, or boats covered with skins. The king's troops encamped in full security; but the M'Donalds, returning about midnight, surprised them, killed the Earl of Caithness, and destroyed or dispersed the whole army. The Earl of Mar escaped in the dark, without any attendants, and made for the more hilly part of the country. In the course of his flight he came to the house of a poor man, whose name was Omeron Came. ron. The landlord welcomed his guest with the utmost kindness; but, as there was no meat in the house, he .. You know how anxious the Duke was to have another day of you, and to let Mr Dundas have the pleasure of your conversation as the best dainty with which he could enter told his wife he would directly kill Mool Odhar,* to More attentive, however, to the present call for hospitality, than to the remonstrances of his wife, or the future exigencies of his family, he killed the cow. The best and tenderest parts were immediately roasted before the fire, and plenty of innirich, or Highland soup, prepared to conclude their meal. The whole family and their guest ate heartily, and the evening was spent as usual, in telling tales and singing songs beside a cheerful fire. Bed-time came; Omeron brushed the hearth, spread the cow hide upon it, and desired the stranger to lie down. The Earl wrapped his plaid about him, and slept sound on the hide, whilst the family betook themselves to rest in a corner of the same room. his departure his guest asked Cameron, if he knew Next morning they had a plentiful breakfast, and at whom he had entertained? "You may probably," answered he, "be one of the king's officers; but whoever you are, you came here in distress, and here it was my duty to protect you. To what my cottage afforded, you are most welcome."-"Your guest, then," replied the other, "is the Earl of Mar: and if hereafter you fall into any misfortune, fail not to come to the castle of Kildrummie."-"My blessing be with you! noble stranger," said Omeron; "if I am ever in distress, you shall soon see me." The royal army was soon after re-assembled; and the insurgents, finding themselves unable to make head against it, dispersed. The M'Donalds, however, got notice that Omeron had been the Earl's host, and forced him to fly the country. He came with his wife and children to the gate of Kildrummie Castle, and required admittance with a confidence which hardly corresponded with his habit and appearance. The porter told him, rudely, his Lordship was at dinner, and must not be disturbed. He became noisy and importunate: at last his name was announced. Upon hearing that it was Omeron Cameron, the Earl started from his seat, and is said to have exclaimed in a sort of poetical stanza, "I was a night in his house, and fared most plentifully; but naked of clothes was my bed. Omeron from Breugach is an excellent fellow!" He was introduced into the great hall, and received with the welcome he deserved. Upon hearing how he had been treated, the Earl gave him a four merk land near the castle; and it is said there are still in the country a number of Came. rons descended of this Highland Eumæus. * Mool Odhar, í. e. the brown humble cow. |