CCLXXXI.
TO MRS. RIDDEL,
_Who was about to bespeak a Play one evening at the Dumfries Theatre._
[This clever lady, whom Burns so happily applies the words of Thomson, died in the year 1820, at Hampton Court.]
I am thinking to send my "Address" to some periodical publication, but it has not yet got your sanction, so pray look at it.
As to the Tuesday's play, let me beg of you, my dear madam, to give us, "The Wonder, a Woman keeps a Secret!" to which please add, "The Spoilt Child"--you will highly oblige me by so doing.
Ah, what an enviable creature you are! There now, this cursed, gloomy, blue-devil day, you are going to a party of choice spirits--
"To play the shapes Of frolic fancy, and incessant form Those rapid pictures, assembled train Of fleet ideas, never join'd before, Where lively _wit_ excites to gay surprise; Or folly-painting _humour_, grave himself, Calls laughter forth, deep-shaking every nerve."
THOMSON.
But as you rejoice with them that do rejoice, do also remember to weep with them that weep, and pity your melancholy friend.
R. B.
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CCLXXXII.
TO A LADY.
IN FAVOUR OF A PLAYER'S BENEFIT.
[The name of the lady to whom this letter is addressed, has not transpired.]
_Dumfries, 1794._
MADAM,
You were so very good as to promise me to honour my friend with your presence on his benefit night. That night is fixed for Friday first: the play a most interesting one! "The Way to Keep Him." I have the pleasure to know Mr. G. well. His merit as an actor is generally acknowledged. He has genius and worth which would do honour to patronage: he is a poor and modest man; claims which from their very _silence_ have the more forcible power on the generous heart. Alas, for pity! that from the indolence of those who have the good things of this life in their gift, too often does brazen-fronted importunity snatch that boon, the rightful due of retiring, humble want! Of all the qualities we assign to the author and director of nature, by far the most enviable is--to be able "to wipe away all tears from all eyes." O what insignificant, sordid wretches are they, however chance may have loaded them with wealth, who go to their graves, to their magnificent _mausoleums_, with hardly the consciousness of having made one poor honest heart happy!
But I crave your pardon, Madam; I came to beg, not to preach.
R. B.
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CCLXXXIII.
TO THE EARL OF BUCHAN,
_With a Copy of Bruce's Address to his Troops at Bannockburn._
[This fantastic Earl of Buchan died a few years ago: when he was put into the family burial-ground, at Dryburgh, his head was laid the wrong way, which Sir Walter Scott said was little matter, as it had never been quite right in his lifetime.]
_Dumfries, 12th January, 1794._
MY LORD,
Will your lordship allow me to present you with the enclosed little composition of mine, as a small tribute of gratitude for the acquaintance with which you have been pleased to honour me? Independent of my enthusiasm as a Scotsman, I have rarely met with anything in history which interests my feelings as a man, equal with the story of Bannockburn. On the one hand, a cruel, but able usurper, leading on the finest army in Europe to extinguish the last spark of freedom among a greatly-daring and greatly-injured people; on the other hand, the desperate relics of a gallant nation, devoting themselves to rescue their bleeding country, or perish with her.
Liberty! thou art a prize truly and indeed invaluable! for never canst thou be too dearly bought!
If my little ode has the honour of your lordship's approbation, it will gratify my highest ambition.
I have the honour to be, &c.
R. B.
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CCLXXXIV.
TO CAPTAIN MILLER,
DALSWINTON.
[Captain Miller, of Dalswinton, sat in the House of Commons for the Dumfries district of boroughs. Dalswinton has passed from the family to my friend James M'Alpine Leny, Esq.]
DEAR SIR,
The following ode is on a subject which I know you by no means regard with indifference. Oh, Liberty,
"Thou mak'st the gloomy face of nature gay, Giv'st beauty to the sun, and pleasure to the day."
ADDISON.
It does me so much good to meet with a man whose honest bosom glows with the generous enthusiasm, the heroic daring of liberty, that I could not forbear sending you a composition of my own on the subject, which I really think is in my best manner.
I have the honour to be,
Dear Sir, &c.
R. B.
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