dared to hope for the commendation of
the Edinburgh critics, yet he had been received by the best society of
the capital; his genius had been recognised by the highest literary
authorities of Scotland; and now the second edition of his poems was
published under auspices that gave it the character of a national book.

If the poems this volume contained established fully and finally the
reputation of the poet, the subscription list was a no less substantial
proof of a generous and enthusiastic appreciation of his genius on the
part of his countrymen. And that Burns must have recognised. A man of
his sound common sense could not have expected more.

CHAPTER VI

BURNS'S TOURS

The Edinburgh Edition having now been published, there was no reason for
the poet to prolong his stay in the city. It was only after being
disappointed of a second Kilmarnock Edition of his poems that he had
come to try his fortunes in the capital; and now that his hopes of a
fuller edition and a wider field had been realised, the purpose of his
visit was accomplished, and there was no need to fritter his time away
in idleness.

In a letter to Lord Buchan, Burns had doubted the prudence of a
penniless poet faring forth to see the sights of his native land. But
circumstances have changed. With the assured prospect of the financial
success of his second venture, he felt himself in a position to gratify
the dearest wish of his heart and to fire his muse at Scottish story and
Scottish scenes. Moreover, as has been said, it would be some time
before Creech could come to a final settlement of accounts with the
poet, and he may have deemed that the interval would be profitably spent
in travel. His travelling companion on his first tour was a Mr. Robert
Ainslie, a young gentleman of good education and some natural ability,
with whom he left Edinburgh on the 5th May, a fortnight after the
publication of his poems. We are told that the poet, just before he
mounted his horse, received a letter from Dr. Blair, which, having
partly read, he crumpled up and angrily thrust into his pocket. A
perusal of the letter will explain, if it does not go far to justify,
the poet's irritation. It is a sleek, superior production, with the tone
of a temperance tract, and the stilted diction of a dominie. The doctor
is in it one of those well-meaning, meddlesome men, lavish of academic
advice. Burns resented moral prescriptions at all times--more especially
from on