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"Mauchline, 2d August, 1787.

"SIR,

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FOR some months past I have "been rambling over the country, but I am now "confined with some lingering complaints, ori"ginating, as I take it, in the stomach. To di"vert my spirits a little in this miserable fog of "ennui, I have taken a whim to give you a his

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tory of myself. My name has made some little "noise in this country; you have done me the "honour to interest yourself very warmly in my "behalf; and I think a faithful account of what "character of a man I am, and how I came by "that character, may perhaps amuse you in an "idle moment. I will give you an honest narra

rative, though I know it will be often at my "own expense; for I assure you, Sir, I have, "like Solomon, whose character, exccpting in

the trifling affair of wisdom, I sometimes think “I resemble, I have, I say, like him turned my eyes to behold madness and folly, and like him

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"them trifling and impertinent, I only beg leave " to tell you, that the poor author wrote them un"der some twitching qualms of conscience, a"rising from a suspicion that he was doing what " he ought not to do; a predicament he has more "than once been in before.

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"I have not the most distant pretensions to

assume that character which the pye-coated "guardians of escutcheons call, a Gentleman. "When at Edinburgh last winter, I got acquaint"ed in the herald's office, and looking through "that granary of honours, I there found almost

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every name of the kingdom; but for me,

"My ancient but ignoble blood

"Has crept thro' scoundrels ever since the flood.

"Gules, Purpure, Argent, &c. quite disowned

66 me.

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"My father was of the north of Scotland, the son of a farmer, and was thrown by early mis"fortunes on the world at large; where, after

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many years wanderings and sojournings, he

picked up a pretty large quantity of obser"vation and experience, to which I am indebted "for most of my little pretensions to wisdom."I have met with few who understood men, "their manners, and their ways, equal to him;

" but

" but stubborn, ungainly integrity, and headlong "ungovernable irrascibility, are are disqualifying "circumstances; consequently I was born a very "6 poor man's son. For the first six or seven years "of my life, my father was gardener to a worthy "gentleman of small estate in the neighbourhood "of Ayr. Had he continued in that station, I "I must have marched off to be one of the little "underlings about a farm-house; but it was his "dearest wish and prayer to have it in his power "to keep his children under his own eye, till

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they could discern between good and evil; so " with the assistance of his generous master, my "father ventured on a small farm on his estate. "At those years I was by no means a favourite "with any body. I was a good deal noted for a "retentive memory, a stubborn sturdy something "in my disposition, and an enthusiastic ideot piety. I say ideot piety, because I was then "but a child. Though it cost the schoolmaster some thrashings, I made an excellent English "scholar; and by the time I was ten or eleven years of age, I was a critic in substantives, verbs, and particles. In my infant and boyish days too, I owed much to an old woman who resided in the family, remarkable for her ignorance, credulity, and superstition. She had,

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suppose, the largest collection in the country "of tales and songs concerning devils, ghosts,

"fairies,

fairies, brownies, witches, warlocks, spunkies, "kelpies, elf-candles, dead-lights, wraiths, appa"ritions, cantraips, giants, inchanted towers, "dragons, and other trumpery. This cultivated "the latent seeds of poetry; but had so strong

an effect on my imagination, that to this hour, "in my nocturnal rambles, I sometimes keep a "sharp look out in suspicious places; and though "nobody can be more sceptical than I am in such "matters, yet it often takes an effort of philosophy to shake off these idle terrors. The ear"liest composition that I recollect taking plea

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sure, in was The Vision of Mirza, and a hymn "of Addison's, beginning, How are thy Servants " blest, O Lord! I particularly remember one "half-stanza which was music to my boyish car

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"I met with these pieces in Mason's English Col"lection, one of my school-books. The two first "books I ever read in private, and which gave "me more pleasure than any two books I ever "read since, were, The Life of Hannibal, and The "History of Sir William Wallace. Hannibal gave

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my young ideas such a turn, that I used to "strut in raptures up and down after the re"cruiting drum and bag-pipe, and wish myself

" tall

" tall enough to be a soldier; while the story of "Wallace poured a Scottish prejudice into my "veins, which will boil along there, till the "flood-gates of life shut in eternal rest.

"Polemical divinity about this time was put"ting the country half mad, and I, ambitious of shining in conversation parties on Sundays be"tween sermons, at funerals, &c. used a few years afterwards, to puzzle Calvinism with so "much heat and indiscretion, that I raised a hue "and cry of heresy against me, which has not "ceased to this hour.

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My vicinity to Ayr was of some advantage "to me. My social disposition, when not check"ed by some modification of spited pride, was, "like our catechism definition of infinitude, "without bounds or limits. I formed several con"nexions with other younkers who possessed superior advantages; the youngling actors who were busy in the rehearsal of parts in which

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they were shortly to appear on the stage of life, "where alas, I was destined to drudge behind scenes. It is not commonly at this green ge, that our young gentry have a just sense "of the immense distance between them and their ragged play-fellows. It takes a few dashes into "the world, to give the young great man that

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proper,

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