Letter from Robert Burns to Mrs Dunlop, 16 August 1788

Ellisland 16th August 1788

I am in a fine disposition, my honoured Friend, to send you an
Elegiac Epistle; & want only genius to make it quite Shenstonian.
"Why droops my heart with fancy'd woes forlorn?
"Why sinks my soul beneath each wintry sky?" Or, in the
more homely Poetry of - "The Psalms of David in metre" -
"Why art thou then cast down, my soul?
"What should discourage thee?"
A physical potion to expel a slight indisposition, with my increasing
Cares in this, as yet, Strange country - gloomy conjectures in the
dark vista of Futurity - consciousness of my own inability for
the struggle of the world - my broaden'd mark to Misfortune in
a wife & children - I could indulge these, nay they press for indulgence,
till my humour would ferment into the most acid -
vinegar of Chagrin, that would corrode the very thread of
Life ---

To counterwork these baneful feelings, I have sat down to write
to you; as I declare upon my soul, I always find that the most
sovereign balm under Heaven for my wounded Spirit. -
I was yesterday at ^Mr Miller's to dinner; the first time since
I have been his Tenant. - My reception was quite to
my mind: from the Lady of the house, quite flattering. -
I believe in my conscience that she respects more more on
account of my marrying a woman in circumstances
something similar to her own, when she commenced
M.rs Millar. - See what it is to be rich. I was going
to add, & to be great; but to be rich is to be great.) She
sometimes hits on a Couplet or two, impromptu. - She re-
peated one or two, to the admiration of all present. - My suffrage
as a professional man, was expected: I for once went, ago-

agonizing, over the bells of my conscience - Pardon me, ye, my
adored Household gods, independence of Spirit, & Integrity of Soul!
In the course of conversation, Johnson's musical Museum,
A collection of Scots Songs with the music, was talked of.
We got a song on the Harpsichord, beginning -
"Raving winds around her blowing " - The
Air was much admired: the Lady of the house ask'd me
whose were the words - "Mine, Madam" - they are my
very best verse! Sacre Dieu! she took not the smallest
notice of them! - The old Scots Proverb says well -
"King's caff is better than ither folk's corn." - I was going
to make a New Testament quotation about "casting Pearls"
but that would be to virulent. The Lady is actually a wo
man of sense & taste. a proof if the subject needed one that
these said two qualities, so useful & ornamental to Human Nature
are by no means inseparably of the family of Gules,
Purpure, Argent, Or & c. –

After all that has been said on the other side of the question, man
is by no means a happy creature. - I do not speak of the
Selected Few favoured by partial Heaven; whose souls are
tuned to Gladness amid Riches, & Honors & Prudence, &
Wisdom. - I speak of the neglected Many, whose nerves,
whose sinews, whose days, whose thoughts, whose independence,
whose peace, nay, whose very gratifications & enjoyments,
the instinctive gift of Nature, are sacrificed & sold
to these few bloated Minions of Heaven! -
If I thought you had never seen it, I would transcribe you
a stanza of an old Scots Ballad, called "The life & age of
Man; " beginning thus
"'Twas in the sixteenth hunder year
Of God & fifty three,

Frae Christ was born that bought use dear,
As Writings testifie" -
I had an old Grand uncle with whom my Mother lived a
while in her girlish years; the good old man, for such he
was, was long blind ere he died, during which time his
most voluptuous enjoyment was to sit down & cru
while my Mother would sing the simple old song of
The life & Age of Man. -
It is this way of thinking, it is these melancholy
truths, that make Religion so precious to the
poor, miserable Children of men.- If it is
a mere phantasm, existing only in the heated
imagination of Enthusiasm,
"What Truth on earth ^so precious as the Lie!"
My idle reasonings sometimes make me a
little sceptical, but the Necessities of my heart always
give the cold philosophising the lie. - Who looks
for the heart weaned from earth; the Soul affianced in
he God; the Correspondence fixed with Heaven; the pious
supplication of even & morn; who thinks to meet with them
in the Court, the palace, in the glare of public life?
No: to find them in their precious importance & divine
efficacy, we must search among the obscure recesses
of Disappointment, Affliction, Poverty & Distress.

I must be here again very soon for my Harvest.
I am really afraid you will wish me to return to my
Post-sheet again.- I have the honour to be, most
sincerely & gratefully, Madam, your humble serv.t

Robt Burns