Edinburgh 22nd March 1787

To Mrs Frances Anna Dunlop of Dunlop

Madam,

When I was honoured with yours of the 26th February. I likewise received one from Dr Moore, where he informed me that he had upon the way to Scotland his medical treatise, and his sketch of Society and manners; the first he desired me to transmit to you, the last he has done me the honor to present me with. - I delayed writing to you till the books should arrive, which they did yesterday; and the first Carrier for your country-side I shall send yours.-

I read your letter, Madam, with watery eyes.- A little, very little, while ago, I scarce had a friend but the stubborn pride of my own bosom; now I am distinguished, patronised, befriended by YOU.- Your friendly advices, I will not give them the cold name of criticisms, I have received with reverence.- I have made some small alterations in what I before had printed.- I have the advice of some very judicious friends among the Literati here, but with them I sometimes find it necessary to claim the priviledge of thinking for myself.- The Noble Earl of Glencairn, to whom I owe more than to any man of Earth, does me the honor of giving me his strictures: his hints, with respect to impropriety or indelicacy, I follow implicitly.-

You kindly interest yourself, my honoured Patroness, in my future views and prospects; then I can give you no light. It is all

                   “ Dark as was Chaos ere the infant sun
                   “Was roll’d together, or had try’d his beams
                   “Athwart the gloom profound”

The appellation of a Scotch Bard is by far my highest pride, to continue to deserve it is my most exalted ambition.- Scottish scenes, and Scottish story are the themes I could wish my power, unplagu’d with the routine of business, for which Heaven knows I am unfit enough, to make leisurely pilgrimages through Caledonia; to sit on the fields of her battles; to wander on the romantic banks of her rivers; and to muse by the stately tower or venerable ruins, once the honoured abodes of her heroes.-

But these are all Utopian ideas: I have dallied long enough with life; ‘tis time to be in earnest.- I have a fond, aged Mother to care for; and some other bosom-ties, perhaps equally tender.- Where the Individual only suffers by the consequences of his own thoughtlessness, indolence or folly, he may be excusable; nay shining abilities, and some of the nobler virtues may half sanctify the character; but where God and Nature have entrusted the welfare of others to his care, those whose weal or woe must depend upon his, where the trust is sacred and the ties are dear, that man must be far gone in unfeeling selfishness, or strangely lost to reflection and thought, whom these connections will not rouse to active attention and serious resolve.-

I guess that I shall clear between two and three hundred pounds by my Authorship; with that sum I intend, so far as I may be said to have any intention, to return to my old acquaintance, the plough, and, if I can meet with a lease by which I can live, to commence Farmer.- I do not intend to give up Poesy: being bred to labor secures me independence, and the Muses are my chief, sometimes have been my only enjoyment.- If my practice second my resolution, I shall have principally at heart the serious business of life; but while following the plough or building up my shocks, I shall cast a leisure glance to that dear, that only feature of my character which gives me the notice of Caledonia, and the patronage of a Wallace.-

Thus, honoured Madam, I have given you the Bard, his situation and his views, native as they are in his own bosom.- A integrative character, honest pride, and my own poetic fame, will, I hope, ever ensure my welcome with those whose esteem I value: the trappings and luxuries of upper stations, I have seen a little of them in Edinburgh - I can live without them.- I shall never blush for my own poverty, nor the poverty of my country.-

                             I am, with the sincerest throe of gratitude,
                                      Madam your much indebted, humble servant
                                                          Robert Burns

P.S. I have today corrected the last proof sheet of my poems and have now only a Glossary and subscribers names to print. Printing this last is much against my will, but some of my friends whom I do not chuse to thwart will have it so.- I have both a second and third Edition going on as the second was begun with too small a number of copies.- The whole I have printed is three thousand.- Would the profits of that afford it, with rapture I would take your hint of a military life, as the most congenial to my feelings and situation of any other, but, “What is wanting cannot be numbered.”

R.B.