[Footnote 221: Song CCx.x.xIV.]
CCLV.
TO JOHN FRANCIS ERSKINE, ESQ.,
OF M A R.
[This remarkable letter has been of late the subject of some controversy: Mr. Findlater, who happened then to be in the Excise, is vehement in defence of the "honourable board," and is certain that Burns has misrepresented the conduct of his very generous masters. In answer to this it has been urged that the word of the poet has in no other thing been questioned: that in the last moments of his life, he solemnly wrote this letter into his memorandum-book, and that the reproof of Mr. Corbet, is given by him either as a quotation from a paper or an exact recollection of the words used: the expressions, "_not to think_" and be "_silent_ and _obedient_" are underlined.]
_Dumfries, 13th April, 1793._
SIR,
Degenerate as human nature is said to be, and in many instances, worthless and unprincipled it is, still there are bright examples to the contrary; examples that even in the eyes of superior beings, must shed a l.u.s.tre on the name of man.
Such an example have I now before me, when you, Sir, came forward to patronize and befriend a distant, obscure stranger, merely because poverty had made him helpless, and his British hardihood of mind had provoked the arbitrary wantonness of power. My much esteemed friend, Mr. Riddel of Glenriddel, has just read me a paragraph of a letter he had from you. Accept, Sir, of the silent throb of grat.i.tude; for words would but mock the emotions of my soul.
You have been misinformed as to my final dismission from the Excise; I am still in the service.--Indeed, but for the exertions of a gentleman who must be known to you, Mr. Graham of Fintray, a gentleman who has ever been my warm and generous friend, I had, without so much us a hearing, or the slightest previous intimation, been turned adrift, with my helpless family, to all the horrors of want. Had I had any other resource, probably I might have saved them the trouble of a dismission; but the little money I gained by my publication, is almost every guinea embarked, to save from ruin an only brother, who, though one of the worthiest, is by no means one of the most fortunate of men.
In my defence to their accusations, I said, that whatever might be my sentiments of republics, ancient or modern, as to Britain, I abjured the idea!--That a CONSt.i.tUTION, which, in its original principles, experience had proved to be every way fitted for our happiness in society, it would be insanity to sacrifice to an untried visionary theory:--that, in consideration of my being situated in a department, however humble, immediately in the hands of people in power, I had forborne taking any active part, either personally, or as an author, in the present business of Reform. But, that, where I must declare my sentiments, I would say there existed a system of corruption between the executive power and the representative part of the legislature, which boded no good to our glorious CONSt.i.tUTION; and which every patriotic Briton must wish to see amended.--Some such sentiments as these, I stated in a letter to my generous patron, Mr. Graham, which he laid before the Board at large; where, it seems, my last remark gave great offence; and one of our supervisors-general, a Mr. Corbet, was instructed to inquire on the spot, and to doc.u.ment me--"that my business was to act, _not to think;_ and that whatever might be men or measures, it was for me to be _silent_ and _obedient._"
Mr. Corbet was likewise my steady friend; so between Mr. Graham and him, I have been partly forgiven; only I understand that all hopes of my getting officially forward, are blasted.
Now, Sir, to the business in which I would more immediately interest you. The partiality of my COUNTRYMEN has brought me forward as a man of genius, and has given me a character to support. In the Poet I have avowed manly and independent sentiments, which I trust will be found in the man. Reasons of no less weight than the support of a wife and family, have pointed out as the eligible, and, situated as I was, the only eligible line of life for me, my present occupation. Still my honest fame is my dearest concern; and a thousand times have I trembled at the idea of those _degrading_ epithets that malice or misrepresentation may affix to my name. I have often, in blasting antic.i.p.ation, listened to some future hackney scribbler, with the heavy malice of savage stupidity, exulting in his hireling paragraphs--"Burns, notwithstanding the _fanfaronade_ of independence to be found in his works, and after having been held forth to public view and to public estimation as a man of some genius, yet quite dest.i.tute of resources within himself to support his borrowed dignity, he dwindled into a paltry exciseman, and slunk out the rest of his insignificant existence in the meanest of pursuits, and among the vilest of mankind."
In your ill.u.s.trious hands, Sir, permit me to lodge my disavowal and defiance of these slanderous falsehoods. BURNS was a poor man from birth, and an exciseman by necessity: but I _will_ say it! the sterling of his honest worth, no poverty could debase, and his independent British mind, oppression might bend, but could not subdue.
Have not I, to me, a more precious stake in my country"s welfare than the richest dukedom in it?--I have a large family of children, and the prospect of many more. I have three sons, who, I see already, have brought into the world souls ill qualified to inhabit the bodies of SLAVES.--Can I look tamely on, and see any machination to wrest from them the birthright of my boys,--the little independent BRITONS, in whose veins runs my own blood?--No! I will not!
should my heart"s blood stream around my attempt to defend it!
Does any man tell me, that my full efforts can be of no service; and that it does not belong to my humble station to meddle with the concern of a nation?
I can tell him, that it is on such individuals as I, that a nation has to rest, both for the hand of support, and the eye of intelligence.
The uninformed mob may swell a nation"s bulk; and the t.i.tled, tinsel, courtly throng, may be its feathered ornament; but the number of those who are elevated enough in life to reason and to reflect; yet low enough to keep clear of the venal contagion of a court!--these are a nation"s strength.
I know not how to apologize for the impertinent length of this epistle; but one small request I must ask of you further--when you have honoured this letter with a perusal, please to commit it to the flames. BURNS, in whose behalf you have so generously interested yourself, I have here in his native colours drawn _as he is_, but should any of the people in whose hands is the very bread he eats, get the least knowledge of the picture, _it would ruin the poor_ BARD _for ever_!
My poems having just come out in another edition, I beg leave to present you with a copy, as a small mark of that high esteem and ardent grat.i.tude, with which I have the honour to be,
Sir,
Your deeply indebted,
And ever devoted humble servant,
R. B.
CCLVI.
TO ROBERT AINSLIE, ESQ.
["Up tails a", by the light o" the moon," was the name of a Scottish air, to which the devil danced with the witches of Fife, on Magus Moor, as reported by a warlock, in that credible work, "Satan"s Invisible World discovered."]
_April 26, 1793._
I am d--mnably out of humour, my dear Ainslie, and that is the reason, why I take up the pen to _you_: "tis the nearest way (_probatum est_) to recover my spirits again.
I received your last, and was much entertained with it; but I will not at this time, nor at any other time, answer it.--Answer a letter? I never could answer a letter in my life!--I have written many a letter in return for letters I have received; but then--they were original matter--spurt-away! zig here, zag there; as if the devil that, my Grannie (an old woman indeed) often told me, rode on will-o"-wisp, or, in her more cla.s.sic phrase, s.p.u.n.kIE, were looking over my elbow.--Happy thought that idea has engendered in my head!
s.p.u.n.kIE--thou shalt henceforth be my symbol signature, and tutelary genius! Like thee, hap-step-and-lowp, here-awa-there-awa, higglety-pigglety, pell-mell, hither-and-yon, ram-stam, happy-go-lucky, up-tails-a"-by-the-light-o"-the-moon,--has been, is, and shall be, my progress through the mosses and moors of this vile, bleak, barren wilderness of a life of ours.
Come then, my guardian spirit, like thee may I skip away, amusing myself by and at my own light: and if any opaque-souled lubber of mankind complain that my elfine, lambent, glim merous wanderings have misled his stupid steps over precipices, or into bogs, let the thickheaded blunderbuss recollect, that he is not s.p.u.n.kie:--that
"s.p.u.n.kIE"S wanderings could not copied be: Amid these perils none durst walk but he."--
I have no doubt but scholar-craft may be caught, as a Scotchman catches the itch,--by friction. How else can you account for it, that born blockheads, by mere dint of _handling_ books, grow so wise that even they themselves are equally convinced of and surprised at their own parts? I once carried this philosophy to that degree that in a knot of country folks who had a library amongst them, and who, to the honour of their good sense, made me factotum in the business; one of our members, a little, wise-looking, squat, upright, jabbering body of a tailor, I advised him, instead of turning over the leaves, _to bind the book on his back._--Johnnie took the hint; and as our meetings were every fourth Sat.u.r.day, and p.r.i.c.klouse having a good Scots mile to walk in coming, and, of course, another in returning, Bodkin was sure to lay his hand on some heavy quarto, or ponderous folio, with, and under which, wrapt up in his gray plaid, he grew wise, as he grew weary, all the way home. He carried this so far, that an old musty Hebrew concordance, which we had in a present from a neighbouring priest, by mere dint of applying it, as doctors do a blistering plaster, between his shoulders, St.i.tch, in a dozen pilgrimages, acquired as much rational theology as the said priest had done by forty years perusal of the pages.
Tell me, and tell me truly, what you think of this theory.
Yours,
s.p.u.n.kIE.
CCLVII.
TO MISS KENNEDY.
[Miss Kennedy was one of that numerous band of ladies who patronized the poet in Edinburgh; she was related to the Hamiltons of Mossgiel.]
MADAM,