No. CCXLIII.

TO MRS. RIDDEL.

Supposes himself to be writing from the Dead to the Living.

MADAM,

I DARE say that this is the first epistle you ever received from this nether world. I write you from the regions of Hell, amid the horrors of the damned. The time and manner of my leaving your earth I do not exactly know, as I took my departure in the heat of a fever of intoxication, contracted at your too hospitable mansion; but, on my arrival here, I was fairly tried, and sentenced to endure the purgatorial tortures of this infernal confine for the space of ninety-nine years, eleven months, and twentynine days, and all on account of the impropriety of my conduct yesternight under your roof. Here am I, laid on a bed of pitiless furze, with my aching head reclined on a pillow of ever-piercing thorn, while an infernal tormentor, wrinkled, and old, and cruel, his name I think is Recollection, with a whip of scorpions, forbids peace or rest to approach me, and keeps anguish eternally awake. Still, Madam, if I could in any measure be reinstated in the good opinion of the fair circle whom my conduct last night so much injured, I think it would be an

For this reason I

alleviation to my torments. trouble you with this letter. To the men of the company I will make no apology.-Your husband, who insisted on my drinking more than I chose, has no right to blame me; and the other gentlemen were partakers of my guilt. But to you, Madam, I have much to apologize. Your good opinion I valued as one of the greatest acquisitions I had made on earth, and I was truly a beast to forfeit it. There was a Miss I too, a woman of fine sense, gentle and unassuming manners-do make on my part, a miserable d-mned wretch's best apology to her. A Mrs. G, a charming wo man, did me the honour to be prejudiced in my favour; this makes me hope that I have not outraged her beyond all forgiveness.-To all the other ladies please present my humblest contrition for my conduct, and my petition for their gracious pardon. O all ye powers of decency and decorum! whisper to them that my errors, though great, were involuntary-that an intoxicated man is the vilest of beasts that it was not in my nature to be brutal to any one-that to be rude to a woman, when in my senses, was impossible with me-but

* * * * * *

Regret! Remorse! Shame! ye three hellhounds that ever dog my steps and bay at my heels, spare me! spare me !

Forgive the offences, and pity the perdition of, Madam, your humble slave.

R. B.

GENERAL CORRESPONDENCE.

289

for

MR. BURNS's compliments to Mrs. Riddel-is much obliged to her for her polite attention in sending him the book. Owing to Mr. B. being at present acting as supervisor of excise, a department that occupies his every hour of the day, he has not that time to spare which is necessary any belle-lettre pursuit; but, as he will, in a week or two, again return to his wonted leisure, he will then pay that attention to Mrs. R.'s beautiful song, "To thee, loved Nith"-which it so well deserves. When " Anacharsis' Travels" come to hand, which Mrs. Riddel mentioned as her gift to the public library, Mr. B. will feel honoured by the indulgence of a perusal of them before presentation: it is a book he has never yet seen, and the regulations of the library allow too little leisure for deliberate reading.

Friday Evening.

P.S. Mr. Burns will be much obliged to Mrs. Riddel if she will favour him with a perusal of any of her poetical pieces which he may not have seen. Dumfries-1795.

VOL. VII.

[I am indebted to my friend Sir Andrew Halliday for this characteristic note. He is now in the West Indies, and will not likely see this edition of his favourite poet till all the volumes have issued from the press. When he opens it he will observe how much use I have made of the many interesting conversations with which he indulged me-his taste is as true as his heart is warm -and in all matters connected with the history and literature of Scotland, I have never found him at a loss. In the song of "To thee loved Nith" alluded to by the poet, there are some fine verses.

The flowers of spring how gay they bloomed i
When last with him I wandered here,

The flowers of spring are past away

For wintry horrors dark and drear.

Yon osier'd stream by whose lone banks
My songs have lulled him oft to rest

Is now in icy fetters locked

Cold as my false love's frozen breast," ED.],,

IN such a bad world as our's, 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 ensure applause to the most indifferent actress, and your theatrical talents would ensure 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 honour to be, &c.

* Vide vol. iii. page 254.

R. B.