(2) TO MRS. WALTER RIDDELL, WOODLEY PARK. (CURRIE, 1800.) [DUMFRIES, Nov. 1792.] I AM thinking to send my "Address" to some periodical publication, but it has not got your sanction : so pray look over it. As to Tuesday's play, let me beg of you, my dear Madam-let me beg of you 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, that assembled train Of fleet ideas, never joined before, Where lively Wit excites to gay surprise; Or folly-painting Humor, grave himself, Calls laughter forth, deep shaking every nerve." 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. The "Address" referred to in the above note, was that on "The Rights of Woman," given at page 127, supra, which was written for Miss Fontenelle, and delivered by her in Dumfries Theatre on her Benefit-night, 26 Nov. 1792. Burns enclosed it to that lady in the following letter. (1) TO MISS FONTENELLE, DUMFRIES. (CROMEK, 1808.) MADAM,-In such a bad world as ours, those who add to the scanty sum of our pleasures are positively our benefactors. To you, Madam, on our humble Dumfries boards, I have been more indebted for entertainment than ever I was in prouder theatres. Your charms as a woman would insure applause to the most indifferent actress, and your theatrical talents would insure admiration to the plainest figure. This, Madam, is not the unmeaning or insidious compliment of the frivolous or interested; I pay it from the same honest impulse that the sublime of Nature excites my admiration, or her beauties give me delight. Will the foregoing lines be of any service to you in your approaching benefit night? If they will, I shall be prouder of my muse than ever. They are nearly extempore; I know they have no great merit; but though they should add but little to the entertainment of the evening, they give me the happiness of an opportunity to declare how much I have the honor to be, &c. R. B. (36) TO MRS. DUNLOP OF DUNLOP. (CURRIE, 1800.) DUMFRIES, 6th Dec. 1792. I SHALL be in Ayrshire, I think, next week; and if at all possible, I shall certainly, my much esteemed Friend, have the pleasure of visiting at Dunlop-house. Alas, Madam! how seldom do we meet in this world, that we have reason to congratulate ourselves on accessions of happiness! I have not passed half the ordinary term of an old man's life, and yet I scarcely look over the obituary of a newspaper, that I do not see some names that I have known, and which I, and other acquaintances, little thought to meet with there so soon. Every other instance of the mortality of our kind, makes us cast an anxious look into the dreadful abyss of uncertainty, and shudder with apprehension for our own fate. But of how different an importance are the lives of different individuals? Nay, of what importance is one period of the same life, more than another? A few years ago, I could have lain down in the dust, "careless of the voice of the morning;" and now, not a few, and these most helpless individuals, would, on losing me and my exertions, lose both their "staff and shield." By the way, these helpless ones have lately got an addition; Mrs. B. having given me a fine girl since I wrote you. There is a charming passage in Thomson's Edward and Eleanora, "The valiant, in himself, what can he suffer? Or what need he regard his single woes," &c. As I am got in the way of quotations, I shall give you another from the same piece, peculiarly, alas, too peculiarly apposite, my dear Madam, to your present. frame of mind; "Who so unworthy but may proudly deck him Glad o'er the summer main? The tempest comes, Lamenting-Heavens! if privileged from trial, I do not remember to have heard you mention Thomson's dramas. I pick up favorite quotations, and store them in my mind as ready armor, offensive, or defensive, amid the struggle of this turbulent exist ence. Of these is one, a very favorite one, from his Alfred. "Attach thee firmly to the virtuous deeds And offices of life; to life itself, With all its vain and transient joys, sit loose." Probably I have quoted some of these to you formerly, as indeed when I write from the heart, I am apt to be guilty of such repetitions. The compass of the heart, in the musical style of expression, is much more bounded than that of the imagination; so the notes of the former are extremely apt to run into one another; but in return for the paucity of its compass, its few notes are much more sweet. I must still give you another quotation, which I am almost sure I have given you before, but I cannot resist the temptation. The subject is Religion, speaking of its importance to mankind, the author says "Tis this, my friend, that streaks our morning bright." (See Letter to same lady-6th Sept. 1789.) I see you are in for double postage, so I shall e'en scribble out t'other sheet. We in this country here. have many alarms of the reforming, or rather, the republican spirit of your part of the kingdom. Indeed we are a good deal in commotion ourselves. For me, I am a placeman," you know-a very humble one indeed, Heaven knows, but still so much so as to gag me. What my private sentiments are, you will find out without an interpreter. I have taken up the subject in another view; and the other day, for a pretty actress's benefit night, I wrote an Address, which I will give on the other page, called "THE RIGHTS OF WOMAN." I shall have the honor of receiving your criticisms in person at Dunlop. R. B. (') TO MISS MARY PEACOCK, EDINBURGH. (ALDINE EDITION, 1839.) DUMFRIES, Dec. 6, 1792. DEAR MADAM,-I have written so often to you and have got no answer, that I had resolved never to lift up a pen to you again; but this eventful day, the sixth of December, recalls to my memory such a scene! Heaven and earth! when I remember a far-distant person!-but no more of this until I learn from you a proper address, and why my letters have lain by you unanswered, as this is the third I have sent you. The opportunities will be all gone now I fear, of sending over the book I mentioned in my last. Do not write me for a week, as I shall not be at home, but as soon after that as possible— Yours, Ance mair I hail thee, thou gloomy December! R. B. "Clarinda's" visit to the West Indies, in hopes to accomplish a re-union with her husband, had proved a failure. She was coldly received, and was mortified to find him in the midst of a plentiful brood of young Mulattos who called him father. A medical adviser at same time admonished her that in the present state of her health, she could not long bear the effects of a warm climate. She therefore returned by the same vessel that had brought her, and arrived home in August 1792. It is evident from the preceding letter addressed to the "Mary" of the Clarinda episode, that the return of Mrs. M'Lehose was yet unknown to Burns. Chambers regards the date of this letter as an instance of the poet's sensibility to anniversaries, so strongly evidenced in the case of Highland Mary. About the 12th of December, our bard made a journey into |
