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No. LXXVII.

From Dr. MOORE.

DEAR SIR,

Clifford-street, 10th June, 1789.

I THANK you for the different communications you have made me of your occasional productions in manuscript, all of which have merit, and some of them merit of a different kind from what appears in the poems you have published. You ought carefully to preserve all your occasional productions, to correct and improve them at your leisure; and when you can select as many of these as will make a volume, publish it either at Edinburgh or London, by subscription: on such an occasion, it may be in my power, as it is very much in my inclination, to be of service to you.

If I were to offer an opinion, it would be, that, in your future productions, you should abandon

abandon the Scottish stanza and dialect, and adopt the measure and language of modern English poetry.

The stanza which you use in imitation of Christ Kirk on the Green, with the tiresome repetition of "that day," is fatiguing to English ears, and I should think not very agreeable to Scottish.

All the fine satire and humour of your Holy Fair is lost on the English; yet, without more trouble to yourself, you could have conveyed the whole to them. The same is true of some

of your

other poems. In your Epistle to

J. S the stanzas, from that beginning with this line, "This life, so far's I understand," to that which ends with-" Short while it grieves," are easy, flowing, gaily philosophical, and of Horatian elegance-the language is English, with a few Scottish words, and some of those so harmonious as to add to the beauty; for what poet would not prefer gloaming to twilight?

I imagine, that by carefully keeping, and occasionally polishing and correcting those verses, which the Muse dictates, you will, within a year or two, have another volume as

VOL. II.

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large

large as the first, ready for the press; and this, without diverting you from every proper attention to the study and practice of husbandry, in which I understand you are very learned, and which I fancy you will choose to adhere to as a wife, while poetry amuses you from time to time as a mistress. The former, like a prudent wife, must not show ill-humour, although you retain a sneaking kindness to this agreeable gipsey, and pay her occasional visits, which in no manner alienates your heart from your lawful spouse, but tends, on the contrary, to promote her interest.

I desired Mr. Cadell to write to Mr. Creech to send you a copy of Zeluco. This performance has had great success here; but I shall be glad to have your opinion of it, because I value your opinion, and because I know you are above saying what you do not think.

I beg you will offer my best wishes to my very good friend, Mrs. Hamilton, who I understand is your neighbour. If she is as happy as I wish her, she is happy enough. Make my compliments also to Mrs. Burns; and believe me to be, with sincere esteem,

Dear Sir, yours, &c.

No.

No. LXXVIII.

From Miss J. LITTLE.

Loudon House, 12th July, 1789.

SIR,

THOUGH I have not the happiness of being personally, acquainted with you, yet, amongst the number of those who have read and admired your publications, may I be permitted to trouble you with this. You must know, Sir, I am somewhat in love with the Muses, though I cannot boast of any favours they have deigned to confer upon me as yet; my situation in life has been very much against me as to that. I have spent some years in and about Ecclefechan, (where my parents reside) in the station of a servant, and am now come to Loudon House, at present possessed by Mrs. H; she is daughter to Mrs. Dunlop of Dunlop,

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Dunlop, whom I understand you are particularly acquainted with. As I had the pleasure of perusing your poems, I felt a partiality for the author, which I should not have experienced had you been in a more dignified station. wrote a few verses of address to you which I did not then think of ever presenting; but as fortune seems to have favoured me in this, by bringing me into a family, by whom you are well known and much esteemed, and where perhaps I may have an opportunity of seeing you, I shall, in hopes of your future friendship, take the liberty to transcribe them.

FAIR fa' the honest rustic swain,
The pride o' a' our Scottish plain :
Thou gi'es us joy to hear thy strain,
And notes sae sweet:

Old Ramsay's shade reviv'd again
In thee we greet.

Lov'd Thalia, that delightfu' muse,
Seem'd lang shut up as a recluse;
To all she did her aid refuse,

Since Allan's day:

Till Burns arose, then did she chuse

To grace his lay.

To

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