ET. 36.] DECLINES TO WRITE FOR THE MORNING CHRONICLE. 119 stipend for the exercise of his talents in his newspaper. reasons for refusing this offer are stated in the present letter.' TO PATRICK MILLER, JUN., ESQ. Burns's DUMFRIES, Nov. 1794. DEAR SIR-Your offer is indeed truly generous, and most sincerely do I thank you for it; but in my present situation, I find that I dare not accept it. You well know my political sentiments; and were I an insular individual, unconnected with a wife and a family of children, with the most fervid enthusiasm I would have volunteered my services: I then could and would have despised all consequences that might have ensued. My prospect in the Excise is something; at least, it is, encumbered as I am with the welfare, the very existence, of near half-a-score of helpless individuals, what I dare not sport with. In the meantime, they are most welcome to my Ode; only, let them insert it as a thing they have met with by accident, and unknown to me. Nay, if Mr Perry, whose honour, after your character of him, I cannot doubt, if he will give me an address and channel by which anything will come safe from those spies with which he may be certain that his correspondence is beset, I will now and then send him any bagatelle that I may write. In the present hurry of Europe, nothing but news and politics will be regarded; but against the days of peace, which Heaven send soon, my little assistance may perhaps fill up an idle column of a newspaper. I have long had it in my head to try my hand in the way of little prose essays, which I propose sending into the world through the medium of some newspaper; and should these be worth his while, to these Mr Perry shall be welcome: and all my reward shall be-his treating me with his paper, which, by the by, to anybody who has the least relish for wit, is a high treat indeed. With the most grateful esteem, I am ever, dear sir, R. B. Burns's conduct on this occasion has given rise to much comment. That he should have declined so important an addition to his income-for it seems to be understood that this was meanthas caused as much surprise as his refusal of remuneration for his songs. Yet there is no mistaking his reasons: he dreaded by accepting this literary income, to risk his prospects in the Excisefor he must have had good grounds for believing that the government would not long retain in its service a regular contributor to the Morning Chronicle. What would weigh the more with him, his prospects in the Excise were at this time brightening; his hopes of a speedy appointment to a supervisorship were strong. Again, it must be pressed on the reader's attention, that Burns, though certainly not a rich man, and though he had some little debts hanging over his head, was not quite so sunk in poverty as to have made the refusal of Mr Perry's offer the last degree of hardship. The whole popular idea entertained of the pecuniary circumstances of Burns, and, consequently, of the manner in which he and his family subsisted in the latter part of his life, requires correction. The stated official income of Burns was £50 a year, which usually became £70, in consequence of extra allowances for certain departments of business. It has been surmised that he had to keep a horse out of this little income; but in reality, when a horse was required during the Dumfries period of his life, he was accustomed to hire one from an inn, and its expense was charged to the service. There seem to have been other sources of official income, of a more precarious nature: on the back of a song in his handwriting, he has noted what follows:-'I owe Mr Findlater £6, 8s. 54d. My share of last year's fine is £12, 2s. ld. W. M., £14, 3s. 6d.' If this was anything like the average of some other perquisite, it would make up Burns's official revenues to something above £80 a year. It may also be remarked that his son, Mr Robert Burns, believes that the poet occasionally derived a little income from land-surveying-a business for which his Kirkoswald education had laid the foundation of his qualifications. Add to all this the solid perquisites which he derived from seizures of contraband spirits, tea, and other articles, which it was then the custom to divide among the officers, and we shall see that Burns could scarcely be considered as enjoying less than £90 a year. This, indeed, is but a humble income in comparison with the deserts of the bard; yet it is equally certain that many worthy families in the middle ranks of life in Scottish country towns were then supported in a decent manner upon no larger means; and very few men of the poet's original profession, out of East Lothian and Berwickshire, drew larger incomes from their farms. It is therefore not surprising to learn that Burns, though now and then forced to be beholden to a friend for a small temporary loan-we have seen an example of this when a failure of importation closed one of his sources of extraordinary income-did, nevertheless, in general maintain his household in some reasonable degree of comfort. I have consulted the eldest son of the bard on this subject, and find his views of the paternal ménage at Dumfries very much the same as those with which many little circumstances have impressed myself. Mr R. B. speaks of the house in the Mill Vennel as being one of a good order, such as were used in those days by the better class of citizens, and the life of his father and mother as being comparatively genteel life. They always had a maid-servant, and sat in their parlour. That room, and the two principal bedrooms, were carpeted, and otherwise well furnished. The poet possessed a mahogany dining-table, where he often had good company assembled. In the same room stood his folding-down desk, at which he had to do a considerable amount of business in the granting of licences, permits, &c., and where the son remembers seeing him writing his letters to Mr Thomson, always a business requiring a good deal of care. There was much rough comfort in the house not to have been found in those of ordinary citizens; for, besides the spoils of smugglers, as above mentioned, the poet received many presents of game and country produce from the rural gentlefolk, besides occasional barrels of oysters from Hill, Cunningham, and other friends in town, so that he possibly was as much envied by some of his neighbours as he has since been pitied by the general body of his countrymen. An intimate friend of Mrs Burns during the life of the poctthe Jessy of his songs, now Mrs James Thomson-has similar recollections of the household in the Mill Vennel. She speaks of the large seizures of rum, and the frequent presents, as only leading to a degree of hospitality somewhat excessive. At the same time, as far as circumstances left Burns to his own inclinations, his personal domestic habits were generally simple and temperate. As he was often detained by company from the dinner provided for him by his wife, she sometimes, on a conjecture of his probable absence, would not prepare that meal for him. When he chanced to come home and find no dinner ready, he was never in the least troubled or irritated, but would address himself with the greatest cheerfulness to any succedaneum that could be readily set before him. They generally had abundance of good Dunlop cheese, sent to them by their Ayrshire friends. The poet would sit down to that wholesome fare, with bread and butter, and his book by his side, and seem to any casual visitor as happy as a courtier at the feasts of kings. He was always anxious that his wife should have a neat and genteel appearance. In consequence, as she alleged, of the duties of nursing, and attending to her infants, she could not help being sometimes a little out of order. Burns disliked this, and not only remonstrated against it in a gentle way, but did the utmost that in him lay to counteract it, by buying for her the best clothes he could afford. Any little novelty in female dress was almost sure to meet with patronage from Burns-all with the aim of keeping up a spirit for neat dressing in his wife. She was, for instance, one of the first persons in Dumfries who appeared in a dress of gingham-a stuff now common, but, at its first introduction, rather costly, and almost exclusively used by persons of superior condition. On the whole, it must be admitted that Burns's poverty at this, and perhaps at several other periods of his life, has been overstated. After settling in Dumfries, he certainly was without spare funds, or anything that could be considered as a provision for his family. But of the necessaries of life he never was in any want, nor, down to the few last months, were even the comforts deficient. BURNS TO MR THOMSON. [Post-mark, Dec. 9], 1794. It is, I assure you, the pride of my heart to do anything to forward or add to the value of your book; and as I agree with you, that the Jacobite song in the Museum to There'll never be Peace till Jamie comes Hame, would not so well consort with Peter Pindar's excellent love-song to that air, I have just framed for you the following: [The song here transcribed was one entitled My Nannie's awa', referring to Mrs M'Lehose's absence in the West Indies. Though perhaps not completed till now, it has been printed in the third volume of the present edition, p. 210.] How does this please you? As to the point of time for the expression, in your proposed print from my Sodger's Return, it must certainly be at-She gazed.' The interesting dubiety and suspense taking possession of her countenance, and the gushing fondness, with a mixture of roguish playfulness in his, strike me as things of which a master will make a great deal. In great haste, but in great truth, yours. TO MRS DUNLOP, IN LONDON. DUMFRIES, 20th December 1794.1 I have been prodigiously disappointed in this London journey of yours. In the first place, when your last to me reached Dumfries, I was in the country, and did not return until too late to answer your letter; in the next place, I thought you would certainly take this route; and now I know not what has become of you, or whether 1 Misplaced by Dr Currie under December 1795. this may reach you at all. God grant that it may find you and yours in prospering health and good spirits! Do let me hear from you the soonest possible. As I hope to get a frank from my friend Captain Miller, I shall, every leisure hour, take up the pen, and gossip away whatever comes first-prose or poetry, sermon or song. In this last article I have abounded of late. I have often mentioned to you a superb publication of Scottish songs, which is making its appearance in your great metropolis, and where I have the honour to preside over the Scottish verse, as no less a personage than Peter Pindar does over the English. December 29th. Since I began this letter, I have been appointed to act in the capacity of supervisor here; and I assure you, what with the load of business, and what with that business being new to me, I could scarcely have commanded ten minutes to have spoken to you, had you been in town, much less to have written you an epistle. This appointment is only temporary, and during the illness of the present incumbent; but I look forward to an early period when I shall be appointed in full form-a consummation devoutly to be wished! My political sins seem to be forgiven me. This is the season (New-year's Day is now my date) of wishing; and mine are most fervently offered up for you! May life to you be a positive blessing while it lasts, for your own sake; and that it may yet be greatly prolonged, is my wish for my own sake, and for the sake of the rest of your friends! What a transient business is life! Very lately, I was a boy; but t'other day, I was a young man ; and I already begin to feel the rigid fibre and stiffening joints of old age coming fast o'er my frame. With all my follies of youth, and, I fear, a few vices of manhood, still I congratulate myself on having had, in early days, religion strongly impressed on my mind. I have nothing to say to any one as to which sect he belongs to or what creed he believes; but I look on the man who is firmly persuaded of Infinite Wisdom and Goodness superintending and directing every circumstance that can happen in his lot-I felicitate such a man as having a solid foundation for his mental enjoyment-a firm prop and sure stay in the hour of difficulty, trouble, and distress-and a never-failing anchor of hope when he looks beyond the grave. 12th January [1795.] You will have seen our worthy and ingenious friend the doctor [Dr Moore] long ere this. I hope he is well, and beg to be remembered to him. I have just been reading over again, I daresay for the hundred-and-fiftieth time, his View of Society and Manners; and still I read it with delight. His humour is perfectly original: it is neither the humour of Addison, nor Swift, nor Sterne, nor of anybody but Dr Moore. By the by, you have deprived me of |