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النشر الإلكتروني

No. LXV.

To Mr. SAMUEL CLARKE, Jun. Dumfries.

Dear sir,

Sunday Morning.

I was, I know, drunk last night, but I am sober this morning. From the expressions Capt. made use of to me, had I had nobody's welfare to care for but my own, we should certainly have come, according to the manners of the world, to the necessity of murdering one another about the business. The words were such as, generally, I be lieve, end in a brace of pistols; but I am still pleased to think that I did not ruin the peace and welfare of a wife and a family of children in a drunken squabble. Further, you know that the report of certain political opinions being mine, has already once before brought me to the brink of destruction. I dread lest last night's business may be misrepresented in the same way.-You, I beg, will take care to prevent it. I tax your wish for Mr. Burns's welfare with the task of waiting, as soon as possible, on every gentleman who was present, and state this to him, and, as you please, shew him. this letter. What, after all, was the obnoxious toast?" May our success in the present war be equal to the justice of our cause."-A toast that the most outrageous frenzy of loyalty cannot objeet to. I request and beg that this morning you will wait on the parties present at the foolish dispute. I shall only add, that I am truly sorry that a man who stood so high in my estimation as Mr. , should use me in the manner in which

I conceive he ha don

At this period of our poet's life, when political animosity was made the ground of private quarrel, the following foolish verses were sent as an attack on Burns and his friends for their political opinions. They were written by some mem

Sir,

No. LXVI.

To Mr. ALEXANDER FINDLATER,

Supervisor of Excise, Dumfries.

Inclosed are the two schemes. I would not have troubled you with the collector's one, but for suspicion lest it be not right. Mr. Erskine promised me to make it right, if you will have the goodness to shew him how. As I have no copy of the scheme for myself, and the alterations being very considerable from what it was formerly, I hope that I shall have access to this scheme I send you, when I come to face up my new books. So much for schemes. And that no scheme to betray a friend, or

ber of a club, styling themselves the Loyal Natives of Dumfries, or rather by the united genius. of that club, which was more distinguished for drunken loyalty, than either for respectability or poetical talent. The verses were handed over the table to Burns at a convivial meeting, and he instantly indorsed the subjoined reply.

The Loyal Natives' Verses.

Ye sons of sedition, give ear to my song, Let Syme, Burns, and Maxwell, pervade every throng,

With Craken the attorney, and Mundell the quack,

Send Willie the monger to hell with a smack.

Burns-extempore.

Ye true "Loyal Natives," attend to my song,
In uproar and riot rejoice the night long;
From envy and hatred your corps is exempt;
But where is your shield from the darts of con
tempt?

mislead a stranger; to seduce a young girl, or rob a hen-roost; to subvert liberty, or bribe an exciseman; to disturb the general assembly, or annoy a gossipping; to overthrow the credit of orthodoxy, or the authority of old songs; to oppose your wishes, or frustrate my hopes-may prosper -is the sincere wish and prayer of

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You will see by your subscribers' list, that I have now been about nine months one of that number.

This letter owes its origin to the following circumstance. A neighbour of the poet's at Dumfries, called on him and complained that he was greatly disappointed in the irregular delivery of the paper of The Morning Chronicle. Burns asked, "Why do you not write to the editors of the paper?" Good God, sir, can I presume to write to the learned editors of a newspaper?-Well, if you are afraid of writing to the editor of a newspaper, I am not; and if you think proper, I'll draw up a sketch of a letter, which you may copy.

Burns tore a leaf from his excise book, and instantly produced the sketch which I have transcribed, and which is here printed. The poor man thanked him, and took the letter home. However, that caution which the watchfulness of his enemies had taught him to exercise, prompted him to the prudence of begging a friend to wait on the person for whom it was written, and request the favour to have it returned. This request was complied with, and the paper never appeared in print.

E.

I am sorry to inform you, that in that time, seven or eight of your papers either have never been sent me, or else have never reached me. To be deprived of any one number of the first newspaper in Great Britain for information, ability, and independence, is what I can ill brook and bear; but to be deprived of the most admirable oration of the marquis of Lansdowne, when he made the great, though ineffectual attempt (in the language of the poet, I fear too true)" to save a sinking state"--this was a loss which I neither can, nor will forgive you.-That paper, gentlemen, never reached me; but I demand it of you. I am a Briton; and must be interested in the cause of liberty:-I am a man; and the rights of human nature cannot be indifferent to me. However; do not let me mislead you. I am not a man in that situation of life, which, as your subscriber, can be of any consequence to you, in the eyes of those to whom situation of life alone is the criterion of man.-I am but a plain tradesman, in this distant, obscure country town: but that humble domicile in which I shelter my wife and children, is the castellum of a Briton; and that scanty hard-earned income which supports them, is as truly my property, as the most magnificent fortune of the most puissant member of your house of nobles.

These, gentlemen, are my sentiments; and to these I subscribe my name: and were I a man of ability and consequence enough to address the public, with that name should they appear.

I am, &c.

No. LXVIII.

To COL. W. DUNBAR.

I am not gone to Elysium, most noble colonel, but am still here in this sublunary world, serving my God by propagating his image, and honouring

my king by begetting him loyal subjects. Many happy returns of the season await my friend! May the thorns of care never beset his path! May peace be an inmate of his bosom. and rapture a frequent visitor of his soul! May the blood-hounds of misfortune never trace his steps, nor the screechowl of sorrow alarm his dwelling! May enjoyment tell thy hours, and pleasure number thy days, thou friend of the bard! Blessed be he that blesseth thee, and cursed be he that curseth thee.

Sir,

No. LXIX.

To Mr. HERON, of Heron.

I inclose you some copies of a couple of political ballads; one of which, I believe, you have never seen. Would to Heaven I could make you master of as many votes in the Stewartry! But

"Who does the utmost that he can,

"Does well, acts nobly, angels could no more."

In order to bring my humble efforts to bear with more effect upon the foe, I have privately printed a good many copies of both ballads, and have sent them among friends all about the country.

To pillory on Parnassus the rank reprobation of character, the utter dereliction of all principle, in a profligate junto, which has not only outraged virtue, but violated common decency; which, spurning even hypocrisy as paltry iniquity below their daring;-to unmask their flagitiousness to the broadest day-to deliver such over to their merited fate, is surely not merely innocent, but laudable; is not only propriety, but virtue.-You have already, as your auxiliary, the sober detestation of mankind on the heads of your opponents; and I swear by the lyre of Thalia to muster on your side all

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