hild"--you will highly oblige me by so doing.

Ah, what an enviable creature you are! There now, this cursed, gloomy,
blue-devil day, you are going to a party of choice spirits--

"To play the shapes
Of frolic fancy, and incessant form
Those rapid pictures, assembled train
Of fleet ideas, never join'd before,
Where lively _wit_ excites to gay surprise;
Or folly-painting _humour_, grave himself,
Calls laughter forth, deep-shaking every nerve."

THOMSON.

But as you rejoice with them that do rejoice, do also remember to weep
with them that weep, and pity your melancholy friend.

R. B.

* * * * *

CCLXXXII.

TO A LADY.

IN FAVOUR OF A PLAYER'S BENEFIT.

[The name of the lady to whom this letter is addressed, has not
transpired.]

_Dumfries, 1794._

MADAM,

You were so very good as to promise me to honour my friend with your
presence on his benefit night. That night is fixed for Friday first:
the play a most interesting one! "The Way to Keep Him." I have the
pleasure to know Mr. G. well. His merit as an actor is generally
acknowledged. He has genius and worth which would do honour to
patronage: he is a poor and modest man; claims which from their very
_silence_ have the more forcible power on the generous heart. Alas,
for pity! that from the indolence of those who have the good things of
this life in their gift, too often does brazen-fronted importunity
snatch that boon, the rightful due of retiring, humble want! Of all
the qualities we assign to the author and director of nature, by far
the most enviable is--to be able "to wipe away all tears from all
eyes." O what insignificant, sordid wretches are they, however chance
may have loaded them with wealth, who go to their graves, to their
magnificent _mausoleums_, with hardly the consciousness of having made
one poor honest heart happy!

But I crave your pardon, Madam; I came to beg, not to preach.

R. B.

* * * * *

CCLXXXIII.

TO THE EARL OF BUCHAN,

_With a Copy of Bruce's Address to his Troops at Bannockburn._

[This fantastic Earl of Buchan died a few years ago: when he was put
into the family burial-ground, at Dryburgh, his head was laid the
wrong way, which Sir Walter Scott said was little matter, as it had
never been quite right in his lifetime.]

_Dumfries, 12th January, 1794._

MY LORD,

Will your lordship allow