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em-ii  J.tft,.  xuTiii  JSD  aonmsroNDIiWCji  by 
A.C.  CUMUniBIlimt,  BSJJs 

AND    HjilXSTRATiOtlB. 


•^yv- 


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^nttiwl  anil  ^rnsf  HBuh 
ROBERT   BURNS: 

LIFE,  NOTES  AND  COEEESPONDENCEi 

A.  CnHNIHOHAM,  ESa 
Anginal  ^imi  turn  fjie  ^iltcdmn  nf  §!i  ^pitin  Srq^pi,  Salt. 

SltottaftnnH. 


HARTFORD: 

PITBLISHED  BY  WM.  JAS.  HAMERSliEy. 

1856. 


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Illtiatrtttiiira. 


FlWMTlSPIEOB.      POBTBATP  OP  BcitNS. 

TiONETTE  Title — "  Op  i'  the  Plbisures  "      ,  ,  ,    to  fact  Tiib 

FooR.  Maiub               .......  101 

Halloweek         ........  11* 

The  JoiLY  Beqoars              .....            -  128 

The  Ooteeb's  Satubdat  Nioht             .....  110 

Tah  o'  Ssanthr                    ....            ■            .  153 

John  Andbr80H,  ur  Jo  .           .          ■            .            .            .            .  1 64 

■WttUE  BHKWED  A  Pkck  o'  IIaiit    .                        ...  178 

Duncan  Guay      .■..•.,■  ISS 

"Whes  wil»  Wakb-  DEACLr  Elasi  was  Blawn"             .            .  200 

AuLD  Lano  Synb           ....••>  212 

Oa  LET  Me  u(  thh  anb  Niokt 22* 

The  Vikion 338 

There  was  a  Lisa    ....••■  248 

BAMNOCKBCim.    '               ■..,..•  SSO 


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Cnntfnte. 


life  nf  Enhrrt .  %ms. 


bltMerfBn 


0  Dr.  Carrie      » 


f  aEtiral  ^Unrks  uf  Enbert  fmm. 


Tha  Dfaa  ai 
Poor  Mailie'g 


The  Anlhor's  Ean 


A  Prayer  nndsr  the  Pwasure  ot 

A  yi&stt  oo  tliB  PKHpectrfif  Deal 
Staozag  on  the  Bsme  OccbbIou 
Elegy  on  lie  Death  of  Eobcrt  Itui 

nieCiU 

The  Tws  Herds,  or  the  Holy  Tnl? 
Holy  Willlc'a  Prayer  .  .  . 
""-'--phonHolyWmiB    . 

le  tu  John  Gondie  of  Ellmar 


A.  DeOkatioQ  to  Gat 
A  Bard'B  Epitqth 


Note  to  Qnrin  HBrnilton,  £: 


Willie  Chalmers 


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lo  Mr.  M'AdaiB       .       .       .    "■  . 
Lines  on  Mcelliu^  with  Baidl,  Lord  Daer    ; 
Epiatle  to  Mjljot  Logaa        ,       .       •       ' 
lAmcDt  on  Leaving  Scotland  .       « 
On  a  Sootch  Bard         .... 
■Writlen ona  Blank  Leaf  otaCopTOfPoei 

ne  Farewell 

Tq  a  Haggis 

To  Miss  Lo^an,  with  BeaWle'a  Poems 


Inimripciou  on  the  Headstone  DrPergusK: 
Prologue,  Spoken  by  Mr.  Woods  on  hi) 

Benefit  Night       ..... 
Epistle  to  William  Creech    . 
On  tbe  I>Ba[ti  of  Sir  James  Hunter  Blair 
On  Soarmg  some  Water-Fowl  in  Looh- 

Tarit 

The  Humble  Fe^Uon  of  Bruar  Wi 


itten  in  an   Envelope,   meloBitig  a 
etter  to  Captain  Qioss 

ic  Hlghlaiid  Society        .       .       . 
sent  of  Uary  Queen  of  Scota     , 

'    The  Whistle 

Elegy  on  Miss  Burnet  of  Monboddo 
Lanient  for  James,  Earl  of  Glenoairn  . 
Lines  sent  to  Sir  John  Whitefbrd,  Barl 
'    Third  Episde  to  Ur.  araham,  of  Fintr, 
Fourth  Epistle  to  Mr.  Giaham,  of  Fintcr    1 
""IB  Eights  of  Won:— 


Mcnod;  on  a  Lady  Famed  for 

Epistle  from  .Xsnpus  lo  Itfaria 

'bonnet  on  the  Death  of  Captain  Biddel  . 
mpromtu  on  Mrs.  Bidders  Birth-Day 
fertes  to  Miss  Graham  of  Fintry 


Address  to  Mr.  William  TjOer 

TDHlssCruikahaiilu    '  .    '  .    ' 
An  Ettempors  EfiUsion,  on  1»i 

planted  to  the  Eicisa 
TO  Clarlnda.  with  a  Present  of  a 

Prinking  Glasses         ,       , 

^nlsUe  to  hVii  Parkffl- 
Written  in  fear's  Carse  Henuil 

the  Banks  of  NIth 
Bxiempore  to  Captain  lUddel 


(Me, SacredtotheUemoryofMrg. Oswald  V 

AFr^ment,lneorlbedtotheIUghtHi 

to  Seeing  a  Wounded  Hare  limp  by  b 

The  Kirk's  Alarm,  a  Satire      . 

To  Dr.  Blocklock  ,       .       .       .       i, 

Blteteh,  New-Tear's'Day '    .'.'.'    li 
prologue,  spoken  at  the  Dumfries  Theatre  i; 

Ni^,'Damfriea'    ... 


To  I^  Bed 

grst  Epistle  to  Mr.  Graham  of  Finn 
The  Five  Carltnes 


Addrea 
First 


o  the  Shade  or  Tboni 


Ballad  Third,  An  Eicell 
I    On  Life         .       .       . 

Insenpllon  for  an  Altar 
r    On  the  Death  Ota  FaToi 

I    The  anined  Maid's  Lan: 
The  Dean  of  the  Faculty 


m  of  the  Woods 


Tibbie,  I  hae  seen  the  Day  '  . 
Mon^mery's  Peggy 

Here's  to^y  Health,  my  Bonny  Lass 
Young  Peggy 


eomposed  m  Ai^ust    . 

My  Nainie.  ™^ '.  "'"'.       . 
''-een  Grow  the  Rashes  . 

£  Highland  lassie    .       , 
.wers  Celestial      .       . 


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Ths  Bum  a*  BaHocliiDTle 

■The  LI19B  o'  SMochm^le 

Ths  aioomj'  Nlglil  la  GaUicring  ] 

Xhe  Bimlu  o' Doon 

XbaBlrktofAbrafeldT    . 

rm  mm  lonng  to  Uurj  Yet    . 


T){£  Blade. 


le-bna  by  my  BmI; 

is  Cutle  Goidoa 

'Wbea  Juiiiar'  Wind    . 


lonmuiff  Kelly 
[yBoUoleilfai 


TheloiyU 


Xjle  CbevalUer'B  Lament  . 
Xly  Heart's  in  the  HighlBnaB 
Jabn  AndeiEon      ■ 

Tonng  Joekey       .       .  '    .  * 

Oh,  wOliB  Bren'd    '    .  '    .  ' 


IhHell  Beyer  he  Fetu 

Udkla  lUnkB  ray  Lon 

Ho<i«mIh«Blyiliea 

I  do  Coufess  Ibou  art  e 

tfunttawBong 

■What  can  a  Younit  Lai 


Turn  apaa,  thou  Fait  EliE 

Willie  Wastle 

Such  a  Parcel  ot  Rogues  lo 


The  Lovd;  lass  ot  Inveraeoa 

Ared,red  Koae     - 

Louis,  nhat  Beck  I  by  Ibee 


Bomebody         ,       .       .       ■ 
I'll  aye  oa'  in  by  yoD  Town 
Wiltlhoubemybeartel 
Oil,  Wit  ye  Wha'B  in  yoQ  TiWD 
But  Lately  Seen 


Oh,  wba  IB  She  that  Loas 
Cdledonia  .  .  . 
Oh,  lay  thy  Wot  in 


Ob,  MsLLy's  meek,  MBliyi 

My  Lady's  Gown,  liiBre' 

The  Dnmfriei  Volunleera 
Oh,  wert  Tboa  in  tl    "    ' 
Lovely  Polly  Scanai 
Yeelreenlhadafi! 
TheLeaJUB 
Bonnie  Leefey 

My  \Cre'B  a  Wmsoi 
H^hland  Mary  « 
AiildBolrMorriB 


ThTsoldiM'a  1 
Biythe  has  I  b 


wyemyPhillyT  .... 
3«  Lonit  and  iJrea^  ia  the  Night  t 

cep'fit  thou,  or  Wals'flC  tbou 

n  a.i  the  Chamtl:}^  Month  of  May 
iru-vell,   tbou  Stream   Itat  Wiiidli 


Ho,t,db,  Google 


iTT  Criiel  are  liiB  Parents  . 
«BS  Da  ber  Bonnie  Blue 

irk  yon  Pomp  of  CoatI  j  FaHhion 


I    The  LaaaiMbjOie  Banks  tf  Hi 


In  ElpWnslonc'a  TranslaUonB  ot 


Mv  Father  wsa  a  Fanner      . 
Up  (a  the  Morning  Early 

The  Bells  of  Uanchlbie''   . 
Her  Flowing  Locke 
SluSonaafOWKilUa.       . 
Tba  Jc^nu  Widover        , 
g.'WluTgdldyouOett        . 
TWs  wat  a  Lbib     .      . 
LsndlaaT,  C«mt  the  Lawin 
BatOfai'  Soadn'  Willie    . 
&lmnleT*>  a  Fleuant  Time    ■ 
U7  Lore  stu'i  bnt  a  Ids^  je 
na-CwtBtn'e  Lady 
IltU  wnai  iSxSg!  was  my  Care 
Tlun>8  m  Y(n£%  this  City        . 
Oh  1^  toy  Wile  she  Dang  me 

The  Baule  oTSherUMIalr 
The  Highland  WIdoVs  La 
Whare  hae  ye  Been ! 
Theniel  Menzie's  Bonnie  Maiy    • 
Frae  the  Friends  and  Land  I  Loto 


HyODllier  Laddie 


Wiitlen  on  the 'Window  ot 

Oirron        .       .       , 
Written  on  a  Paae  of  Glass 

SSSyihownhlrlit 
Highland  Hospitality 
Lines  on  Miss  Semhle.       . 
On  the  Kirk  at  Lamlngton 
The  Solemn  League  and  Covenant 

On  Seeing  Uie  Beantiful  Seat  of 

OntheEarlof»»V» 

To  the  Sain^   oa  tl 


The  Creed  of  Porerty   . 
Wrilien  in  a  Lady's  Pocket 
To  John  Taylor     . 
To  Miss  Fonleoella  .       . 


To  Dr.  Maswell, 

On  Jeisy  Lewaw 
Toaat  to  the  Sam 
Epitaph  on  the  E 


a  UEss  Jessy  Stai^i's 


On  a  Henpecked  Country  Squire 
On  John  I>oy&  Innkeeper, 


ForGavi 


On  a.  Sehoolmaster 
Fifcahlre 


The  Weaij  Fund  0- Tow 


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CnmspttfentE  af  %zxm. 


ToMr.Jamci 
To  Ui.  Jams 
To  the  Bame 
To  Mr.  Jama 
To  Mr  Jobn 
'FDMr.jDlin 
To  Mc.  Botaei 


To  Ml 

To  Ur.  David  Brie 
To  Mrs.  Duniop,  oi  u 
To  Mr.  Jobn  Eit^bmoi 

To  Mt.  John  Kiphiq'm 
To  Mr.  Kobfrt  Muir, 

ToMtlBuraCM,  Mon 
To  Mi.  Uobert  Aiken 

la  the  Dame  oTUief 


ood,  Edinburgh    . 
dj     .       .       , 
:,  EilmarnoclE 

Writer,  a'jt 
dy     .       .       . 
ih  BaltantiiiOt  01  Ayr  , 


on,  Esq.,  Mauchllne 
in  GhalmerB,"WritGT,  . 


Co  Jamea  Hoy,  Esq^.,  Goii 

ro  the  Same     . 

to  Bobect  Alnslle,  Esq.,  Edinbunih    . 

Eo  Ibe  Earl  of  Qlencairn 

to  CbiiiJes  Hay,  £30.,  AdTooate 

I'o  Misa  M K, 

Do  Mies  Chalmers 


To  John  Ballsjitiae,  Eaq. 


ToMr.JamcsCandlieb 

To ,  on  Fctgussc 

ToUieEartofBqcUBii 
To  Mrs.  Dunlop    . 


I    To  Mrs.  Dimlop 


To  Ibo  Ksi,  John  tilnner 
To  lUotaard  Brown 
Co  MiB.  Rose,  b(  KUravoelt 


To  Itjch^rd  Brown 


To  Mr.  W.  MLcol,  Maatei  ot  tbe  High 

Scbool,  Edinburgh    .       .       -  f 

1/0  William   CruiluihaDk,   St. 


Robert  Clegbon 

Williaiu  Dunbar,  Edinburgb 


Ho,t,db,  Google 


to  Mm.  Donlop 
VsMcs.  Dunlop 


To  Mrs. 

lothes 
ToMr. : 


orDuDlop  . 

11    .     . 

r  "Edinburgh  £ 


Jonlop 


To  Bishop  Geddes  . 
^Mrs  Duulop    . 


XDBiobHd  BroiTD 


SaUT.  John  L(«Bn 

n>  Ht:>>-  DddWi 

Xs  Coptniii  Bidfcl,  Cans 

Cs  Captain  Kiddel 


9frBa1)Ht  Grnham,  Esq. 
WUnhDnnlop 
9»Uiij  Wmtni  MaineU  Co 
'  SB  nilToU  Uaiwsil 
A  Mt.SnttaerlanfL  Plater  . 
■Sb  Sir  John  Sineltur.       . 


ToMrs-Dorrt^    ;       .       .       .       . 

ToMr,M"t^oeli,Lond;n,  *    .  *   .  ' 

ToMf.M'Murdo 

ToMrs.  Dunlop        .... 

roCraufonllSl^Esq,     '    ;  '  .  *  . 
To  Dr,  Blacklock       T      ;       .       . 
To  Sirs  Dunlop    .       .       .       •       . 

ToLady  W.  MTCmsttble'  .    '  .  '  , 

To  lir,  William  Dunbar,  W.S. 

To  Mr.  Peter  Rill         .... 

To  A  F.TjUer,Esq.    .... 

TolheRev.'o.B^  .■.*.'. 
ToMra.  Dunlop        .... 

To  Colonel  FalllHon     .','.*. 

S6S 

sei 

364 

sei 

3SI 
3H 

361 

37C 

3Jl 
37* 

37S 

m 

ll^s?.  ■■■■■■■.■ 

Tofranoi«Oro8e,Ea(|.,'F.S.A     '   . 
To  Mr.  William  Smellle,  Printer 
To  Mr  Williani  Nicol       .       .        . 
ToPranciatiroae.Baq.,  F.S.A.     .       . 

ToMra.  bun^lop    .     *  .    *  .    '   .    '    , 
To  Mr  Cunninghsm. 

BurnitoMr-TUoi^     .        .        . 
To  Mrs  Dunlop 

Burni  lo^lr.  Thomson      .*.'.' 
BurnsloMriThJSJwS     .  ■    .  '    .' 

ToMr».  Dimlop""^     .  '   .  *    .  ■ 
ToRGr>hBn.,E8q„Fintrr        .       . 

To  the  Same  .       .'.'.',*. 

M^ThoDiao'n  to  Burns    *.■-■.' 

Postoripl,  from  the  Hon.  4.  Er.kine 
Burns  to  Mr.  Thomson 

tSm" Cunningham'..    '.■.". 
Burn!  CO  Mr.  Thomson     .       .       .       . 
ToMiaaB^naon 

tS  Patrick  Miller,^.    ',','. 

i 

xm 
m 

i 

Mi 

i 

■m 

Ho,t,db,  Google 


To  John  Prani^B  Erskhw, 


H9  Kcnn^     . 
m  Mr!  ThoiDBQ 


To  Ladv  Glencalm  . 
Ur.  ThoiaKon  to  Bum) 
Bums  to  He  ThomcDD 
BalDB  10  Mi.  Tbomson 


BoroB  to  Mr.  Thorns 


To  Mrs,  Klddel 


BnTDB  1o  Mi.  Thoa 


Mr.  Thoni 
Mr.  Thon 

Mr  Thou 

Burns  lol  .      .__ 

To  PeUr  Miller,  Jua..  I 
Mr.  Thomson  to  Bums 

Tbomaon 


TonnCoonciloCDiu 
'o  Sirs.  Duniop    , 


1  Mr.  Oarke 

i  Mr  James  Jobnaoa 

>  Mr.  Ctmajngbam 

>  Mr.  Gilbert  Bums 

ims  10  Ml.  Tbomson 


to  the  Lift  of  Bomfl 


Ho,t,db,  Google 


Ho,t,db,  Google 


lift  nf  tmw. 


Ho,t,db,  Google 


Ho,t,db,  Google 


fift  nf  Unbtrt  'Jiirns. 


Mfiafnni  ffiiasrlis. 

Thouoh  the  dialect  in  whicli  many  i 
bt^piest  e(Fusiou>  of  Rouert  Burk 
compoBsd  be  peculiar  to  Scotland,  j-i 
reputation  has  extended  itself  bejoud  tlie 
limits  of  that  country,  and  bis  poetry  has 
been  admired  as  clie  olisprLng  oS  original 
genius,  by  petsons  of  taste  in  eveiy  pert  of 
ttaeaisCra  islmds.    It  seems  proper,  iJiere- 

with  the  view  of  their  being  read  by  Scotch- 
DBB  only,  but  also  by  natives  of  Eu^and, 
■od  of  other  countries  where  the  EngUsh 
iaiigoige  is  spoken  or  understood. 

Bobert  Burns  waj,  m  reality,  what  he  has 
been  r^ireseiited  to  be,  a  Scottish  peosaiLt. 
To  reudei  tlie  incidents  of  his  bumble  story 
gmendly  intelligible,  it  seems,  flierefore. 
uLHnble  to  pretii  some  ohservi 


.wluch 


ha  beloiiged— a  class  of  men  distiDguished 
by  many  peculiarities :  by  this  means  we 
ahaB  form  ■  moire  correct  notion  of  the 
advantages  vith  nhich  be  started,  and  of 
the  obstacles  which  he  surmounted.    A  few 

not,  perhops,  be  found  nnnorthy  of  actwi- 
tion  m  other  respects— and  the  subject  is, 
in  a  great  measure,  new,     Scotland  faaa , 


produced  persons  of  high  distmction  in 
eveiy  brauth  of  philosophy  and  hierature ; 
and  her  history,  wiiile  a  separate  and  inde- 
pendent nation,  has  been  successfully  ei- 


ot  then  fori 


presented  feni 
the  feudal  system  and  the  Cathobc  religion 
had  diffused  over  Europe,  modilied,  indent 
by  the  peculiar  nature  of  her  terrilory  and 
dimste.  The  Feformatioii,  by  which  auch 
unportant  changes  were  produced  on  the 
nutiomd  charactu,  was  speedily  followed  by 
tlie  accession  of  the  Scottish  monarchs  to 
the  English  throne ;  and  the  period  which 
dapsed  from  that  accession  to  the  Union, 
has  been  tendered   memorable,  chiefly,  by 

vere  involved,  and 


of  tl 


the  Union,  Scocbnd,  though  the  seat  of 

house  of  Stuart  lo  the  throne,  has  eojoyed 
a  comparative  tranquillity ;  and  it  is  since 
this  period  that  the  present  character  of  her 
peasantry  has  been  in  a  great  measure 
formed,  though  the  political  causes  affectin  t 


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LIFE  OF    EDUNS. 


ft  are  to  be  tr*ceA  to  the  prerious  acts  of 
her  Jemrate  lejrislatura. 

A  slight  acquaintance  mth  tbe  peaean- 
try  ot  Scotland  will  serve  to  convince  aii 
unprejudiced  observer,  tliat  they  possss  a 
de^ee  of  intelligence  not  generally  found 
among-  the  same  class  of  men  in  tlie  other 
CDuntriea  of  Europe.    In  tlie  very  humhieat 

one  can  read,  and  most  persons  are  more  or 
less  skilled  in  wriUng  and  aritlimetic ;  and. 
imder  the  dt^^iae  of  their  uncouth  appear- 
ance, and  of  their  peculiar  manners  and 
dialect,  a  stmngu  will  discover  that  thej 

dt^tee  of  informaliou,  corresponding  to 
these  ocquirementa. 

These  advantages  they  one  to  the  le^ 
provision  made  by  the  Parliament  of  Scot- 
land ia  1646,  for  the  establishment  of  a 
»chool  in  every  parish  throughout  tlie 
kingdom,  tor  the  eipress  purpnae  of  ednca- 
ting  tlie  poor — a  law  nhich  may  challenge 
comparison  with  any  act  of  legislation  to 
be  found  in  the  records  of  history,  whether 
ve  consider  the  wisdom  ot  the  enda  in 
view,  the  simplicity  of  tlie  means  employed, 

means  dfectual  to  their  purpose.  This  ex- 
cellent statute  vas  repealed  on  the  accession 
of  Charles  II.  in  1660,  together  with  all  the 
other  laws  passed  dunug  the  Common- 
wealth, as  not  being  sanctioned  by  the  Roynl 
assent.  It  slept  during  the  ragns  of  Charles 
and  James  IL,  bnt  was  re-enacted  precisely 
in  the  same  terms,  by  the  Scottish  Parlia- 
ment, in  1696,  afiet  the  Eevolution ;  and 
this  is  the  last  provision  on  the  subject 
Ila  effects  on  the  national  character  may  be 
tonsideted  to  have  commenced  about  the 
period  of  the  Union,  and  doubtless  it  co- 
operated with  the  peace  and  security  arising 
from  that  happy  event,  in  produdug  the 
eitraordinary  change  in  favour  of  industry 
and  good  morels,  wliich  the  charojctat  of  the 
common  people  of  Scotland  has  since  nnder- 

The  charch  estaWishment  of  Scotland 
hiqjpily  coincides  witli  the  mstitution  just 
mentioned,  which  may  he  called  its  school 
establishment.  The  clergyman,  being  every- 
where resident  in  his  particular  parish, 
becinnea  the  natural  peiron  and  superinten- 
dant  of  the  pariah  school,  and  is  enabled  in 
various  ways  to  promote  the  comfort  of  the 
teacher,  and  the  proficiency  of  the  scholars. 
Tlie  teacher  himself  is  often  a  candidate 
tot  holy  orders,  who,  during  tbe  long  i 
of  study  and  probation  required  hi  the 
gcottiah  i^uucb,  renders  the  time  whii' 


ipared  ftomhis  profes»ona1  stu£eg  osetiil 

>thers  as  well  as  to  himself,  by  assuming 

[he  respectable  charEicter  of  a  schoolmaster, 

"  '■  common  for  the  established  schools, 

n  the  country  parishes  of  Scotland,  to 

and  many  of  tbe  farmers,  and  some  even 
of  the  cottagers,  submit  to  much  privation, 
that  they  may  obtain,  for  one  of  thmr 
sons  at  least,  the  precarions  advantage  of 

■  ned  education.  The  difficully  to  be 
unted   aris»    indeed,  not   from  tbe 

^  4e  of  instrucEing  their  children,  but 
from  the  char^  of  supporting  them,  lii  the 
country  parish  schools,  the  English  lan- 
guage, writing  and  accounts,  are  generally 


somewhat  higher. 


attempt  an 
jects  of  this  ii 


'hich  they  belong.  That  it  is, 
a  tlie  whole,  fiwourahle  to  mdustry  and 
Lorala,  though  doubdess  with  some  indi- 
vidual esceptions,  seems  to  be  proved  by 
the  most  striking  and  decisive  experience ; 
and  it  ia  equally  cleat,  that  it  is  the  cause  of 
that  spirit  of  emigration  and  of  adventure 
so  prevalent  among  the  Scotch.  Knowledge 
has,  by  Lord  Verulam,  been  denominated 
-- -  "T;  by  others  it  has,  with  leas  pro]iriety, 
denominntfd  virtue  or  happiness ;  we 
may  with  confidence  consider  it  as  motion. 
ui  being,  in  proportion  as  he  is 
1,  has  lua  wishes  enlarged,  as  well 
means  of  gratifying  those  wishes, 
be  considered  as  t^ing  within  the 
hf  liis  vision  a  large  portion  of  the 
Ii  which  we  tread,  and  discovering 
^  at  a  greater  distance  on  its  but. 
fiice.  His  desires  or  ambition,  once  eidted. 
are  stimulated  by  his  imagiiuition  i  and 
dLilant  and  uncertain  objects,  givmg  ft^er 
scope  to  the  operation  of  this  faculty,  often 
acquire,  in  the  ramd  of  the  youthfnl  adven. 
turer,  an  attraclion  from  their  very  dialanee 
and  uucertunty.  If,  therefore,  a  greater  de- 
gree of  mstrnction  he  given  to  tlie  peasantry 
of  a  country  compaintively  poor,  in  the 
neighbourhood  of  other  countcies  rich  in 
natural  and  acquired  advantages,  and  if 
the  harriers  be  removed  that  kept  them 
separate,  emigration  from  the  former  to  the 

by  lawi  newly    as  uniform  as  those  by 


Ho,t,db,  Google 


RELIGIOtIS  EDUCATION. 


T  finds  its  level  when  left  t< 


ditided  the  two  British  ni 
\edse  and  poverty  poured  .... 

DHttres  of  the  noitli  over  the  fertile  plains 
of  England ;  Md  more  especially,  over  the 
colonies  which  ahe  had  settled  in  the  e»st 
and  in  the  west.  The  stream  of  popnlation 
continues  to  How  from  the  north  to  the 
south,  for  thfl  causes  that  originally  impelled 
it  eontinue  to  operate;  and  the  r^her 
country  is  constantly  invigorated  by  the 
accession  of  an  informed  and  hardy  tare 
of  men.  educated  in  poverty,  and  prepared 
for  hardship  and  danger;  jMtient  of  labour 


The    I 


itUfe. 


achers 


Scotland  ,    . 

brought  with  them  the  temper  as  well  as 
the  tenets  of  that  celebrated  hetesiarch. 
The  Presbyterian  form  of  worship  and  of 
church  government  was  endeared  to  the 
people,  from  its  being  estal>]ished  hy  them< 
selves.  It  was  endeared  to  them,  also,  by 
the  struggle  it  had  to  mauitain  with  the 
Catholic  and  Protestant  episcopal  churches ; 
over  both  of  which,  after  a  hundred  years 
of  fierce,  and  sometimes  bloody  contention, 
it  finally  ttiumplied,  receiving  tlie  eounte- 


and  the  i 


bigoted;  and  the 

tin;;e  of  fhnatidam  wnicn  coiourea  men 
public  traaaactions,  as  well  as  their  private 
virtues,  and  of  which  evident  traces  may  be 
found  in  our  own  times.  When  the  public 
schools  were  established,  the  mstructioa 
commniiicated  hi  them  partook  0/  tlie  re- 
li^ous  charaeter  of  the  people.  The  Cat&< 
clusm  of  the  Westminster  Divines  was  the 
universal  sr^oal-boak,  and  was  put  into  the 
hands  of  the  young  peasant  as  soon  as  he 
had  acquired  a  knowledge  of  his  alphabet ; 
and  his  first  exercise  in  the  art  of  reading; 
introdoced  him  to  the  most  mysterious 
doctrines  of  the  Christian  faith,  lliis  prac- 
tice is  continned  in  our  own  tunes.  After  the 
Assembly's  Catechism,  the  Proverbs  of  Solo- 
mon, and  the  New  aud  Old  Testament  follow 
in  T^ular  succession;  and  the  scholar  de- 
parts, gifted  with  the  knowledge  of  the 


according  to 


■itingi,  ai 


,v  their  doctrim 
leWes 


m  of  Faith.  Thus,  with  the 
a  of  infimcy  in  the  schools  of 
are  blended  the  dogmas  of  the 


national  church;  and  hence  the  Gist  and 
most  constant  eiercise  of  ineennily  among 
the  peasantry  of  Scothiud,  is  displayed  in 
rehgions  disputation.  With  a  stror^  attach- 
ment to  the  national  creed,  is  conjoined  a 
bigoted  preference  for  certam  forms  of  wot- 
ship ;  the  source  of  which  would  be  ofteu 
altogether  obscure,  if  we  did  not  reeollect 
that  the  ceremonies  of  the  Scottish  Churdi 
were  framed  in  direct  opposition,  in  every 
point,  to  those  of  the  Church  of  Rome. 

The  eccentricities  of  conduct^  and  eioga- 
lariUes  of  opinion  and  manners,  which  dia- 
racterised  the  Enghsh  sectaries  in  the  last 
century,  aRVirded  a  subject  for  lbs  coinic 
muse  of  Butler,  whose  pictures  h)se  their 
interest  since  their  archetypes  are  lost. 
Some  of  the  pcculiaritiea  common  among 
the  more  rigid  disciples  of  Calvinism  in 
Scotland,  in  the  present  times,  have  given 
scope  to  the  ridicule  of  Bums,  whose 
humour  is  equal  to  Butler's,  and  whose 
drawing  from  living  manners  are  sii^krly 

correctness  of  his  taste  did  not  always  co> 
rspond  with  the  strength  of  his  genius. 

The  iuformation  and  the  reji^ous  educa- 
tion of  the  peasantry  of  Bcotlaud.  promote 
sedatenessof  condnc^and  habits  of  thought 
and  reflection.  These  good  quahties  are  uot 
couutecacled  by  the  establishment  of  poor 
laws.  Happily,  in  Scodand,  the  same  legia- 
lature  which  established  a  system  of  instruc- 
tioii  fbr  the  poor,  resisted  the  introduction 
of  a  legal  provision  for  the  support  of 
poverty;  hence  it  qiU  not  appear  snrprisin^ 
if  the  Scottish  peasantry  have  a  more  than 
UBU^  share  of  prudence  and  reflection,  if 
tliey  approach  nearer  than  persons  of  thea 
order  usually  do  to  the  definition  of  a 
man— that  of  "a  being  tliat  looks  before 
and  after."  These  observations  must  indeed 
bo  taten  with  many  eseeptions ;  the  favour- 
able operation  of  the  causes  just  mentioned 
■■  counterieted  by  others  of  a; 


subject,  if  fully  ex 


(ould  lead  to  discussions  of  great  e^itent. 
When  the  Befijrmatiaii  was  cstablbhed  iu 
Scotland,  instmniental  music  was  banished 
from  the  churches,  as  savouring  too  much 
of  "profane  muistrelsy."  Instead  of  bemg 
reguUled  by  an  instrument,  the  voices  of 
the  congregation  are  led  and  directed  by  a 

the  people  m  all  expected  to  join  in  the 

is  to  be  song.  Church  music  is  therefore  a 
part  of  the  education  of  the  peasantry  of 
Scotland,  iu  which  they  axe  usually  in- 
itructed  in  the  long  winter  nights  by  ths 


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4  LIFE  OF  B 

^■nah  schoolnm^teT,  vho  is  generuHy  the 
precentor,  or  by  itinenint  teachers,  more 
celebrated  for  tlieir  powers  of  voice.    This 

taHea  into  $ome  oeglect,  but  was  ceiived 
about  thirty  or  forty  years  ago,  when  the 
music  itaefr  wag  reformed  and  improved. 
The  Scottish  system  of  psalmody  is,  how- 
ever, radic^ly  bad.  Destitute  of  tt^e  or 
harmony,  it  forms  a  striking;  contrast  with 
the  dehcooy  and  psthoa  of  the  profane  iura. 
Our  poet,  it  will  be  ibund,  was  taught  church 
tnnsii^  in  which,  hansver  he  attained  httle 
proficiency. 

That  daacing;  should  also  be  very  gene- 
niDy  a  pan  of  the  education  of  the  Scottish 
peaaantty,  will  surprise  those  who  hare  only 
teea  this  deacription  of  men ;  and  still  more 
those  who  reflect  on  the  rigid  B))irit  of  Cal- 


Ihe  prevalence  of  this  tuste,  or  rather 
passion,  for  dincuig,  among  a  people  so 
deeply  tinctured  with  the  spirit  and  doc- 
tiiites  of  Cahin,  is  ona  of  those  contra- 
dictions whicli  the  philosophic  observer  so 

It  is  probably  to  be  ascribed  to  the  Scottish 
music,  which,  throughout  all  its  varielies, 

livelier  strains,  awakes  those  vivid  emotions 
that  And  m  dancing  their  natural  solace  and 


ongly  nl 


.    Thew 


is  alio  1 


nany  ol 


I   they  acquire  dancang,   aud, 
indeed,  almost  all  their  other    ' 
They  are  taught  '      ' 

work  at  daily  labour  during 
months,  'ilie  school  is  usually  a  barn,  and 
the  arena  for  the  perfbnneia  is  generally 
a  clay  Hour,  'flic  dome  is  lighted  by 
candles  stuck  in  one  end  of  a  cloven  stick, 
the  other  end  of  which  ja  thrust  uito  the 
wall.  Reels,  etrathspeya,  contra-dnnc^  and 
hornpipes,  are  here  practised.  The  jig, 
■0  much  in  fhvonr  among  the  English 
peasaiitry,  has  no  place  among  them,  'llie 
attachment  of  the  jjeople  of  Scotland  of 
every  tank,  and  particularly  of  the  peasan- 
try, to  this  aniuacmeni,  is  very  great. 
After  the  khours  of  the  day  are  ovet, 
young  men  and  women  walk  many  miles, 
in  the  colli  and  dreary  nigiits  of  winter, 
to  these  country  donciiig-schools;  and  the 
instant  that  the  violin  sounds  a  Scottiah 
air,  fatigue  seema  to  vauiah,  the  toil-bent 
mstic  tecomcs  erect,  his  features  brighten 
with  sympathy,  every  nerve  seems  to  thrill 
with  sensation,  and  every  artery  to  vUjtate 
with  hfe.  lliese  rustic  performera  are 
indeed  less  to  be  admired  for  ^race  than 
(or  agility  and  ani 


mon  to  every  tank  in  Scotland,  and 
now  generally  known-  In  our  ovm  . 
they  have  penetrated  into  England,  i 
have  eatoblished  themselves  even  in 
circle  of  royalty.  In  another  general 
they  will  be  naturalised  in  ever;  part  of 


over  the  spbjl  of  the  established  teliiion, 
haa  not  hoiverer,  been  obtained,  muiouC 
long-continued  and  obatinale  struts.  The 

Estabbshment  on  account  of  the  relaxation 
wliich  they  perceive, 
in  the  Church,  from  h 
and  disciphne,  universally  condemn  the  prac- 
tice of  dancing,  and  the  schoob  where  it  ia 
lai^ht  i  and  the  more  ehlerly  and  serious 
part  of  the  people,  of  every  persuasion, 
tolerate  rather  tlian  approve  Wiese  meetings 
of  the  young  of  both  sexes,  where  daneuig 
is  practised  to  their  spirit-stirring  musir^ 
where  cai«  is  dispelled,  tod  ia  fo^otten, 
and  prudence  itself  is  someunies  lulled  to 
sleep,  (1) 

'I'he  Keformation,  which  proved  fetal  to 
the  rise  of  the  other  fine  arts  in  Scotland, 
probably  impeded,  but  could  not  obstruct, 
the  progress  of  its  muaic— a  drcumslance 
that  wdl  convince  the  impartial  inquirer, 
that  this  music  not  only  eiisted  previously 
to  that  era,  but  had  taken  a  Arm  hold  m 
the  nation,  thus  affording  a  proof  of  its 
antiquity  stronger  than  any  produced  by 
the  researches  of  our  antiquaries,  |2) 

I'he  imipression  M  hich  the  Scottiah  mnaie 
has  mode  on  the  people,  is  deepened  by  ita 
union  with  the  national  songs,  of  which 
various  collections  of  uueqiud  merit  are 
hetbie  the  public.  These  souga,  like  those 
of  other  nations,  ate  many  of  them  hu- 
morous, hilt  they  chiefly  treat  of  love,  war, 
and  driukhig.  Iavb  is  the  subject  of  the 
greater  proporUoiL  Without  displaying 
the  liigher  powers  of  the  imagination,  they 
exb^it  a  perfect  knowledge  of  the  human 
lieart,  and  breathe  a  spirit  of  affection,  and 
aometimea  of  delicate  and  romantic  ten- 
derness, not  to  be  surpassed  in  modem 
poetry,  and  which  the  mote  potiahed  attains 
of  antiquity  have  seldom  possessed. 

The  origin  of  this  amatory  character  in 
flie   rustic  muse    of  Scotland,    or    of  the 


selves,  it  would  be  diSicult  K 


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SOCIAL  INTEECOOHSE  OF  THE  SEXES. 


have  Beemnnliited  in  the   eilFnt    hpue 
time,  and  it  ia  nor  perhaps  impossible 
^ve  an  HTrar^«ment  of  them  in  the  oi 
o(  their  date,  vnluable  as  such  a  record  of 
taste  and  manners  wontd  be.  Their  present 
inflnenee  on  the  eharact^r  of  the  nation  i^ 
however,  great  and  striking.    To  tliem  we 
mnat  atlribnte,  in    a  great   measure,    the 

ises  the  attachments  of  the  hnmblest  of 
the  people  of  Scotland,  to  a  degree  that,  if 
ve  mislalie  not,  is  seldom  found  in  the 
same  rank  of  societT  in  other  countries. 
The  pictures  of  loie  and  happiness  exhibited 
in  their  rural  songs,  are  early  impressed  on 
the  mind  of  the  peasant,  and  are  rendered 
more  attractive  from  the  music  with  which 
they  are  united.  They  associate  themsdves 
with  his  own  youthiid  emotions ;  they  ele- 
vate the  object "       *' ' 


peasant' often  e: 
of  which  a  ^anish  eavidier  need  not  be 
ashamed.  After  tlie  kbours  of  the  day  are 
over,  he  sets  out  for  the  habitatiDn  of  his 
mistress,  perhaps  at  many  mdea'  distance, 
re^rdtess  of  the  length  or  the  dreariness 
of  Che  ^^y.  He  approach*^  her  in  secrecy, 
under  tlie  disginijC  of  ni^ht.  A  si^al  at 
tr  window,  perhaps  agreed  on,  and 
d  by  none  but  Iwr,  gives  in- 
formalinn  of  liis  arrival ;  and  sometimes  it 
is  repeated  again  and  ajsin,  before  the  ca- 
pricious fiur-one  wdl  ohey  the  eummons. 
But  if  she  favoars  his  addresses,  she  escapes 
unobserved,  and  recdves  the  vows  of  her 
lover  under  the  ghiom  of  twil^ht  or  the 
deeper  shade  of  night  Interviews  of  this 
kind  are  the  subjectsofmanyof  the  Scottish 
iongs,  some  of  the  most  beautiful  of  which 
Burns  has  imitated  or  improi'ed.  In  Clje 
art  n-hioh  they  celebrate  he  was  perfectly 
aldlled  ;  he  knew  and  had  practised  all  ita 
mysleries.  Intercourse  of  this  sort  is  indeed 
universal,  even  in  the  humblest  condition 
of  man  in  every  region  of  the  earth.  But 
it  is  not  unnatural  to  suppose  that  it  may 
exist  in  a  greater  decree,  and  in  a  mor^ 

immonly  instructed ; — who  find 
raral  songs  eipressiona  for  theu  youthfill 
emotions ; — and  in  whom  the  embers  of 
passion  are  coutinnaDy  fanned  by  the 
breathings  of  a  music  fiOi  of  tenderness 
and  sensibility.  Tlie  direct  influence  of 
physical  causes  on  the  attachment  between 
the  sexes  is  comparatively  small,  hot  it  is 


modified  by  moral  causes  beyond  any  othet 
affection  of  the  mind.  Of  these  music  and 
poetry  are  the  chi  Am  g  h  sr  ws  of 
Lapland,    and  und  b  m    g  of 

Angola,  the  savag         ee    hast  hi» 

mistress,  and  eve  ynh  h  be^nu  es  the 
weariness  of  his  urn  y  wi  h  po  tr  and 
song.  13) 

of  a  community,  h  P    h  p  mgle 

,  criterion  on  which  much  dep  denoe  may 
:  be  placed,  as  the  stale  of  the  mtercourse 
.  between  the  sexes.  Where  this  displaya 
^  ardour  of  attachment,  accompanied  by  purity 

of  women  rise  in  sooety,  our  imperfect 
nature  mounts  in  the  scale  of  moral  eicel- 
lence ;  and,  from  the  source  of  this  single 
affection,  a  stream  of  felicity  deaceods, 
which  branches  into  a  thousand  rivulets  that 
enrich  and  adorn  the  field  of  life.  I^Tiera 
the  attachment  between  the  sexes  unks  into 
an  appetite,  the  heriti^  of  our  species  is 
comparatively  poor,  aiid  man  approaelies  tha 
condltiou  of  lln  bruin  Hat  jiciisk,  "  If  we 
could  with  safett  indulge  the  nlensh^  sup- 
position that  H^gal  lived  uid  that  Ossian 
sui^g"(4),  Scotknd,  Judging  from  tilts  crite. 
rion,  might  be  considered  at  rsidiing  high 
in  happhiesa  and  virlne  in  very  remote  ages. 

delicate  and  a  difScult  nnder^aking.  After 
considering  the  probable  influence  of  her 
popular  songs  and  her  national  mnuc,  and 
esamining  how  ftr  the  effects  to  be  expected 
irfna  these  are  supported  by  fact?,  the  in- 
cpiirer  would  also  have  to  examine  thg 
influence  of  other  causes,  and  partioulBrly 
of  lier  civil  and  ecclesiastii^  mstitntions,  by 
which  the  character,  and  e^'en  the  manners 
of  a  people,  though  silently  and  slowly,  ate 
often  powerfully  eontfolled.  In'the  point 
of  view  in  which  we  are  considering  the 
subject,  the  etxleeiastical  estahUshmcnts  of 
Scotland  may  be  snpposed  peculiarly  fa- 
vourable to  purity  of  conduct,  'ilie  disso- 
luteness of  manners  among  the  Catholic 
clergy,  which  preceded,  and  in  some  measure 
produced  the  BeCbm^ion,  led  to  an  ex- 
traordinary strictness  on  the  part  of  the 
reformers,  and  especially  in  that  partioulat 
in  which  the  licentiousness  of  the  clergy 
liad  been  tarried  to  its  greatest  height — 
the  intercourse  between  the  sexes.  (M  this 
point,  as  on  all  oth^s  eonnecled  with  anste- 
rity  of  manners,  the  flisdples  of  Calvin 
assumed  a  greater  severity  tlian  tliose  of 
the  Pfoleatant  Episcopal  church.  Tha 
punishment   of  illiat    connection  between 


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6  LIFE  OF  BURNS. 

tlia  eem  waa,  throughout  eH  Europe,  t,  • 
ptoi'ince  whicb  the  clergy  assumed  to  them-  '' 
ceivei ;  end  the  church  of  Scotland,  nhich 
at  the  Eefimnatioii  renounced  «o  mmy 
pon'CTS  and  prinlcgea,  at  that  period  took 
this  crime  under  ner  more  capcdBl  juria- 
diclion,  Wliera  pregnancy  tetes  pkoe  with- 

catiae!  the  diecoreiy ;  and  it  ii  on  her, 
tlierefbre,  in  the  lint  instance,  tliat  the 
cler;^  and  elders  eierciae  their  leaL  After 
ejaniinMion  before  the  kirk-sesaion,  toucli- 
ing  ths  chcamstance  of  het  guilt,  she  must 
endure  a  public  penance  and  i 
public  lebuke  (rem  the  pnlpit, 
Sabbatha  successively,  in  tlie  face  of  the 
cougregaUon  to  o-bich  she  bdongs,  and  thus 
e  her  weakness  eiponed,  and  bC! 


way  be  naturally  sup- 


s,  and  the  gratiKcations  of 


blazon. 


le  male,  but  hov  mucli  liglitcr 
me  puniaiiment  [  It  ia  irell  known  that 
this  dreadful  law,  worthy  of  che  iron  minds 
of  Calvin  and  of  Knoi,  ' 
eon^eqnencea,  at  the  very  mention  of  which 
human  nature  recoils.  (6) 

While  the  panishment  of  inoontinwir 
prescribed  by  tlie  inatitutions  of  Scotland 
aevere,  the  calpritt  hare  an  obvions  metho 
<rf  avoiding  it,  afforded  them  by  the  law 
respecting  marriage,  the  validity  of  which 
lequirea  tieii,her  the  ceremoniea  of  the 
ehurch,  nor  any  other  ceremoniea,  but 
simply  the  doUbcrate  acknowledgement  of 
each  otiier  as  husband  and  wife,  made  by 
fill'  pariies  before  witnesses,  or  in  any  otlicr 
way  that  gi¥«a  leg^  evidence  of  smdi  an 
acknowledgment  having  taken  place.  And 
aa  the  parties  themselies  iii  the  data  of 
their  marriage,  an  opportunity  is  thus  given 
to  avoid  the  punishment,  and  repair  the  coa- 
sequences,  <^  illicit  giatiii 
degree  of  laxity  rcapecdng 
tract  migli»  produce  much  coniuaion  m  tne 
descent  of  property  without  a  still  ftitther 
indulgence ;  but  the  law  of  Scotland,  legi- 
timating all  children  bom  before  wedlodi, 
on  the  aubiflquent  matriage  of  their  parents, 
renders  the  actual  date  of  tlie  marriage 
itself  of  little  consequence.  Marriages  con- 
tracted ia  Scotland  without  ths  ceremoniea 
of  the  church,  tu-e  conaidered  aa  irreipilar, 
and  the  paities  uauelly  submit  to  a  i-eiaie 
for  their  conduct,  in  the  ^ce  of  tli^r 
respective  congregations,  which  ia'not  how- 
ever necessary  to  render  the  marriage  vshd. 
Eurua,  whose  marriage,  it  wilt  appear,  was 
irrigiilar,  does  not  seem  to  have  imdei^ue 
this  part  of  the  discipline  of  the  chiuth. 

Thus,  though  the  institutiona  of  Scotland 
are  ia  many  particulara  favourable  to  a  con- 


The 


peasantry 


Lndap 


>f  tlieir  cultivation.  In  their 
own  country,  their  industry  is  inferior  to 
that  of  the  aaioe  description  of  men  in  the 
southern  division  of  the  island.  Industry  and 
the  useful  arts  reached  Scotland  later  than 
England;  and  thoi^h  their  advaice  liai 
been  rapid  there,  the  effccta  produced  are 
as  yet  £ir  inf^or  both  in  reahty  and  in 
^ipcarance.  The  Scottish  tarmers  have  in 
general  neither  the  opulence  nor  the  com- 
^rts  of  those  of  England,  iieitlier  vest  tlie 
same  capital  in  the  soil,  uor  receive  from 
it  the  same  return.  Thrir  elothins  theft 
fcK>d,  and  their  habitations,  are  almost 
ever.vwbere  inferior.  (6|  'ITieir  appearance  in 
these  respecta  corresponds  with  tlie  apjicir- 
ance  of  tlieir  country;  and  under  the 
operation  of  patient  indixstry,  both  are  im- 


er  into  Scotiand  than  mto  England,  bo- 
ise  the  security  of  property  came  later, 
ith  causes  of  internal  i^tation  andwartare, 
lilar  to  those  winch  occurred  to  tlie  more 
ithem  nation,  tiie  people  of  Scotland  were 
losed  to  more  immtnent  haiards  and  to 
le  extensive  and  destructive  apotiation, 
m  external  war.  Occupied  in  the  mainle- 
ice  of  their  independence  against  their 
re  powerfid  neighbours,  to  tliia  purpose 
re  necessarily  aacriliced  the  arts  of  peace, 
I.  at  cerlam  periods,  the  flower  of  ilicir 
population.     And  when  the  union  of  the 

produced  a  security  ti:om  national 

itb  England,  for  the  century  auo- 


loediately  followed  by  all  the  benelits  nhich 


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PATEIOTISM  OF  THE  SCOTCH. 


It  wna  ultimately  destined  to  pruJiice.  At 
lengtli,  hawever,  these  benefits  hb  diatinetlj' 
felt,  and  jeneraliy  ackoawled^ed.    Propeny 

creasing ;  and  Dgriculture  ia  mpidly  improv- 
ing in  Scotland.  Ai  yet  indeed,  tlie  fermera 
are  not,  in  g;eneral,  enabled  to  malce  improve^ 
meTiCs  out  of  their  own  capitals,  as  in 
England;   but  the    laniJholdets  nho  liave 

them,  contribute  towards  them  a  itli  a  liberal 
hand.  Hence  propeEty,  as  well  aa  populati.'>nr 
is  neeumutating  rapidly  on  the  Scottish  Boil ; 
and  the  nation,  enjoying  a  great  part  of  the 
blessings  of  Englishmen,  and  retaining 
several  of  their  own  happy  insticntions, 
might  be  considered,  if  confidence  coidd  be 
placed  in  human  foresight,  to  be  as  yet  only 
in  an  early  stage  of  tlieir  pttgresa.  Yet 
there  are  obstructions  in  their  way.  To 
tlie  cultivation  of  the  soil  are  opposed  the 
eitent  and  the  strictness  of  the  entails ;  to 
the  improvement  of  the  people,  the  n^dty 
increasing  use  of  spirituous  liquors,  a  de- 

saciuences  almost  every  evil,  physical  aixd 
moral.  (7)  The  peculiarly  social  disposition 
of  the  Scottish  peasantry  exposes  them  to 
this  practice,  'i'his  ^sposition,  which  u 
fostered  by  their  national  songs  and  music 
is  perhaps  characteristic  of  the  nation  at 
tai^  Though  the  souns  of  many 
pleasures,  it  counteracts,  by  its  conse- 
quoucea,  the  effects  of  then  patience,  m 
dustry.  and  frugality,  both  at  home  and 
abroad,  of  which  those  especially  who  have 
wilneased    the    progress    of  Scotsmen   in 

Since  the  Union.the  manners  and  language 
of  tlie  people  of  Scotland  have  no  longer  a 
glan<krd  among  themselves,  but  are  tti^  by 
the  aOuulard  of  tlie  nation  to  which  they  are 
united.  Though  their  habits  are  tkr  Irom 
being  de:tible,  yet  it  is  evident  that  their 
manners  and  (Ualect  are  undergoing  a  rapid 
change.  Even  the  feoners  of  tlie  present 
dny  appeal  to  have  less  of  the  peculiatides  of 
their  country  in  th»r  apeech  than  the  men 
of  letters  of  the  last  generation.  Burns.who 
never  left  the  island,  nor  penetrated  &rther 
into  Ellwand  than  Cailisle  on  the  one  hand, 
or  Newcastle  on  the  otlier,  had  less  of  the 
Scottish  dialect  than  Hume,  who  hved  for 
many  years  iu  the  best  society  of  England 
»ad  France — or  perhaps  than  Kobertson,who 
wrote  the  English  language  in  a  stjie  of 
such  purity ;  and  it  he  had  been  in  other 
respects  fitted  to  take  a  lead  in  the  British 
House  of   Commons,   his   pronundation 


would  neither  have  f^ered  his  eloqoaux^ 
nor  deprived  it  of  its  due  effect. 

A  striking  particular  in  the  chiracter  at 
the  Scottish  peasantry,  is  one  which  it  is 
hoped  will  not  be  lost — the  strength  ot 
their  domestic  attachments.  The  priva- 
tions to  which  many  parents  submit  for  the 
good  of  their  children,  and  particukrly  to 

Eider  as  the  cliief  good,  has  already  been 
noticed.  If  their  children  live  and  prosper, 
they  have  their  certain  reward,  not  merely 
as  witnessing,  but  as  sharing  of  their  pros- 
perity. Even  in  tlie  humblest  ranks  of  the 
peasantry,  the  earnings  of  the  children  may 
generally  be  considered  as  at  the  djspos^ 
of  their  parents :  perliaps  in  no  country  is 
so  larye  a  portion  of  the  wages  of  labout 
applied  to  the  support  and  comfort  of  those 
whose  days  of  labour  are  past.  A  similar 
strength  of  atlachment  eiteuds  through  all 
the  domestic  relations.  Our  poet  partoolt 
largely  of  this  amiable  charscferisUc  ot  his 
humble  compeers :  be  was  also  strongly 
tinctured  with  auothH  striking  feature  which 
belongs  to  them — a  partiahty  for  his  native 
country  otwhichmanyproots  maybe  found 
inhiswntmgs  Una  it  must  be  confessed, 
13  a  very  strong  and  general  sentiment 
among  tha  natives  of  Scotland,  dilTermg, 
however  m  its  character  accordii  g  to  the 
character  of  the  different  minds  in  which 
it  IS  found— m  some  appearing  a  aelhah 
prejudice  la  other?  a  generous  idTect  on 

An  attachment  to  tl  e  land  ot  their  birth 
IB,  indeed,  common  to  all  men.  tt  is  found 
among  tbe  inhabitants  of  every  reg^n  of 
the  earth,  tiam  the  arctic  to  the  tmt-arctic 
circle,  in  all  thfl  vast  variety  of  climate,  of 
surface,  and  of  t^vilisation.  To  analyse  this 
general  sentiment,  to  trace  it  tkrongh  the 

tion  in  which  it  has  its  source,  vould  iielthei 
he  a  difllcult  nor  an  unpleaaing  labour.    On 

should  perhaps  expect  to  Und  this  attachment 
strong  in  proportion  to  the  physical  advan* 
tages  of  the  ami ;  but  iuquiry,  far  from 
confirming  this  supposition,  aeems  rather  to 
lead  to  an  opposite  condnsion.  In  those 
fertile  regions  where  beneficent  nature  yields 
almost  spontaneously  whatever  is  necessary 
to  human  watita,  patriotism,  as  well  aa  every 

languiil.  In  countries  leas  richly  endowed, 
wliere  the  comforts,  and  even  neceaaaries  ot 
life,  must  be  purchased  by  patient  t(»l,  the 
aifcctiAis  of  the  mmd,  as  well  as  the  Acuities 
ot  the  understanding,  improve  under  exertion, 
and  patnotism  fiouiiahea  amidst  its  kiudred 


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LIFE  OF  BURNS. 


Tirtues.    WhHO  it 


from  mutual  diKicuUies  aud  talwiirs.  tie 
Bodal  sltections  anfoldthetosett'es.aadeiteiid 
from  the  men  wicli  whom  we  hve  to  the  soil 
on  whkh  ne  tread.  It  «ill  periu^  be 
found,  indeed,  that  our  affections  cannot 
be  origmally  called  forth,  hut  by  objecla 
(spah)e,  or  auppoaed  capshle,  of  feeling  our 
'  ond  of  reiuriiLiig  them  f  hut 
roited,  they  an  Btren^hened  by 
exetiase  ;  tney  are  ejpantled  by  the  powers 
of  imagination,  and  aaze  more  especially  on 

form  the  tlicatre  on  vhich  we  hace  fltst  felt 
tlie  altra'nationa  of  joy  and  sorrow,  and  ihst 

If  this  lensoniog  be  just,  the  loie  of  our 
country,  althou|!;h  mixliGed,  *ud  even  ei- 
tiDgnushed  in  individu^s  by  the  chances  and 
changes  of  life,  may  be  presumed,  in  our 
general  tenaoninge,  to  be  atroi^  uuioi^  a 
people,  in  ptoporcion  to  thar  social,  and  more 
especially  to  their  domestic  aflecuona.  Under 
free  governments  it  19  found  more  active 
thm  imder  despotic  oocs,  because,  as  tlte 
indindnal  becomes  of  more  eonseiiuenr^  in 
the  commimity,  the  community  bwomf "    " 


is  generally  m 


small  St 
sccive  than  ia  lar^  ones, 
on,  and  also  because  the 
independence  of  a  small  community  being 
muntuned  with  <!imculty,  and  frequently 
endangered,  sentiments  of  patdu^EDi  are 
more  frequently  escited.     In  mountainous 

tbaa  in  plains,  because  there  the  necessicies 
of  life  c^ten  require  a  closer  union  of  the 
inhabitants;  and  more  especially,  because 
in  such  countries,  though  1^  popitlous  thau 
plains,  the  inliaiiittints,  instead  of  being 
(oattered  equally  over  the  whole,  are  usually 
divided  into  small  communities  on  the  sides 
of  their  separate  va]ties,.aBd  on  the  baidia 
of  their  respeclive  streams — Mtuations  well 
calculal^d  to  call  forth  and  to  concentmte 
the  social  affections,  amidst  scenery  Chat  acts 
most  powerfully  on  the  sight,  and  makes 
a  laaUng  impression  on  the  memory.  It 
may  also  be  remarked,  that  mountainous 

nourish  sentiments  of  national  pride  and 
independence,  from  the  mOuence  of  history 
on  the  aff^tiona  of  the  mind.  In  such 
coimtries  from  their  luitutal  strength,  inferior 

against  their  more  powerful  neighbour*,  and 
lalonr,  in  all  ages,  lias  made  its  most  success- 
Ail  efforts  agauist  oppression.  Such  countries 


have  mentioned  is  doubtless  more  general 
and  more  permanent,  where  the  scenery  of 
a  country,  the  peculiar  manners  of  its  in- 
habitants, and  the  mutial  achievements  of 
their  ancestors,  are  embodied  in  national 
songs,  and  united  to  national  music  By 
this  con&ination,  the  ties  that  attach  men  to 
the  land  of  thrii  birth  are  multiphed  and 
strengthened,  mid  the  images  of  in^cy, 
strongly  assodatii^  with  the  generous  alCec- 
tiona,  resist  the  influence  of  tkoe,  and  of 

countries  &r  distant,  and  amidst  for  dilferent 
scenes,  to  tlie  latest  period  of  life,  to  soothe 
the  heart  with  the  pleasures  of  memory, 
when  those  of  hope  die  away. 

If  this  reosonuig  he  just,  it  will  explain 
to  us  why  among  the  natives  of  Sentland, 
even  of  euliivftied  minds,  we  so  generally  hnd 
a  partial  attachment  to  tlie  luid  of  their 
birili,  and  why  this  is  so  strongly  dis- 
coverable in  the  writings  of  Bums,  who 
joined  to  the  higher  powers  of  the  under- 


I  of  icflection  tliink  it  i 


supccauous 


character  Uke  his.  Bom  in 
of  a  peasant,  he  rosi^  by  the  force  of  hii 
mind,  into  distinction  and  influence,  and  in 
his  works  has  exhibited  what  are  so  rarely 
foimd,  the  diarms  of  original  genius.  With 
B  deep  insiglil  into  tlie  human  heart,  his 
poetry  exhibits  high  powers  0/  ima^ii.aiion 

peculiar  manners  of  his  country ;    and  it 

his  own  name  only,  but  to  the  expiring 
genius  of  an  aiident  and  once  indep^idcnt 
nation.  In  relating  the  incidents  of  liu  life, 
candour  will  prevent  na  trom  dwelling 
ini-idiously  on   those  failings  which  justice 


BOEKBT  BtlBHS  WSS, 


ed  some  notice  by  his  poetical  talcnra 
le  vidnity  where  he  lived ;  and  liaving 
lahed  a  small  vohime  of  his  poems  ut 


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JJITENS'  SKETCH  OP  HIS  OWN  LIFE. 


Kitinamock,  this  irew  upon  him  mote 
geoeral  attention.  In  consequence  of  the 
encouTBgenusit  he  received,  he  repaired  to 
fjdinbu^h,  and  there  pubUahed,  by  euh< 
ecriptioil.  an  impfoved  and  enktged  edition 
of  his  poems,  whidi  met  with  eittaordinarj 
success.  By  the  profits  aiiaing  fcoM  the 
Gale  of  this  edition,  he  was  enable  to 
enter  on  a  farm  in  DumftJea-sTiire;  and 
having  tnairied  a  person  to  whom  he  had 
heen  long  attached,  ha  retired  to  devote  the 
remainder  of  hi?  life  to  sgricultura.  He 
was  again,  howaver,  unauccesaful ;  and, 
nhandoning  his  fiam,  he  removed  into  the 
town  of  Bumfries,  where  he  filled  an  inferior 
office  in  the  Excise,  and  where  he  termi- 
nated his  life  in  Ju^  1796,  in  his  thirty- 
ei^tli  jaar. 

The  strength  and  originahty  of  his  genius 
procured  him  the  notice  of  many  pctaona, 
distinguished  in  the  republic  of  letters,  and, 
amoi^  others,  that  of  Dr.  Moore,  well 
known  for  his  Views  of  Society  and  Manners 
anths  ConOneiit  of  Entopa,  fee  his  Zeluco, 
and  varioDs  other  works.  To  thisgentJe- 
qian  oar  poet  addressed  a  letter,  after  his 
first  visit  Co  Edinbui^h,  giving-  a  history  of 
his  life,  up  to  the  perioi  of  his  nritjng. 
In  a  composilioa  never  intended  to  see  the 
light,  elegance,  or  perfect  cortectneaa  of 
compo^tion,  will  not  be  expected.  I'hese, 
howerer,  will  be  compensated,  by  the  op)ior- 
tunity  of  seeing  our  poet,  as  lie  gives  the 
jnddentfl  of  his  life,  unfold  the  peculiarities 
of  his  chaiactra  with  all  the  careless  vigour 
and  open  sincerity  of  his  mind. 

"Maucilixe,  SiuJ  August,  1787. 

"8iii. —  For  some  months  past  1  have 
h«™  rambling  gver  the  country,  but  I  am 
now  confined  with  some  lingering  compiunts, 
originating,  as  1  take  it,  in  Che  stomach. 


After  you  have  perused  theae  pages,  sMiuld 
you  think  them  trifling  and  impertineilt,  I 
only  b^  leave  to'  tell  you,  that  the  pW 
author  wrote_  them  under  some  twitiAing 
qualms  of  conscience,  arising  from  suspicion 
that  he  was  doing  what  he  oi^bt  not  to 
do — a  preihcamenC  he  has  more  than  ones 
besi  in  before." 
"  I  have  not  tha  most  distant  preten^oni 
I  assume  that  charactM  which  the  pye- 
lated    guardians    of  escutcheons    caU   s 

ntlemin.  When  at  Edinburgh  hijt  winter 
at  acquainted  in  the  Herald's  Office; 
an3,  looking  through  that  granary  irf 
honours,  1  there  found  dmost  every  naUM 
''  ikingdom!  bntforme, 
My  ancient  but  Ignoble  blood 


Gules,  Purpura,  Argent,  &c„  quite  disovfned 


after  many  years  ^andermgs  and  aojqum- 
ings,  he  picked  up  a  pretty  laj^e  quantity  of 
observation  and  eipericnce,  to  nbi^h  I  «ni 
■  ydebted  for  tnosi  of  my  httle  pretenHous 


To  divert  my  Bj 
alile .  fog  of  eti 


IS  made  sc 


i,  I  have  taken  a  wh 

histOTy  of  myselt     My  name 

-e  little  noise  in  this  co " 


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  ' 
moment,    t  win  give  you  an  honi 


whose  chart 
tiie  toifltog  affair  of  suisi  . 
think  I  resemble— 1  have,  I  say,  like  him 
turned  my  eyes  to  hehald  jaadtiess  andfaliy, 
and,  like  him,  too  treqaently  shaken  hands 
with  their  intoilcatdng  friendsb^    •  f  :  > 


Ihave. 


with  fe 


derstood  m    ,  „  , 

equal  to  him ;  but  stubborn,  uugHiidy 
mlegritj,  and  headlong  uiigoFamable  inwi- 
bility,  are, disqualifying  d^umstancea,  co[^ 
aequentl;  1  was  bom  a  very  poor  man's.son. 
For  the  first  six  or  seven  years  of  my  hfe,  my 
father  was  gai'dener  to  a  worthy  gentlHU^ 
of  small  estate  in  the  neighbouihaod^  of 
Ayr.  Had  be  continued  in  that  station,  I 
must  have  marched  oS  to  be  one  of  tlie  littla 
underlings  about  a  farm^liouse;  but  it  wai 
his  deatedt  wish  and  prayer  to  have  it  ia 
hia  power  to  keep'  his  children  under  hii 
own  eye  till  they  conld  discern  between 
good  and  evil ;  -ao,  irith  with  the  assistance 
of  Ids  generous  master,  my  father  ventured 
on  a  small  bam  on  hia  estate.  At  those 
yeara  I  was  by  no  means  a  favourite  with 
any  body.  I  was  a  good  deal  noted  for  li 
retendvo  memory,  a  stubborn  sturdy  some, 
thing  in  my  disposition,  and  an  enthusiastic 
idiotio  pi^y.  i  say  idiotic  piety,  because  I 
was  then  but  a  child.  Though  it  cost  the 
'schoolmaster  some  thraaiiings,  f  made  an 
excellent  English  scholar,  and  hy.  the  ^ma 
Iwas  ten'  or  eleven  years  of  age,  I  was  a 
critic  in  substantives,  .verbs,  and'  partidea. 
In  my  infant  ^nd  boyish  days,  too,  I  owed 
idedintij* 


4rkabl«  for  her 


Ignorance,,  w^ 


dalilji,  aad.mferilition.    SV  liad,  1  iup- 


Hosted  by  Google 


w 


LIFE  OF  BUHH3. 


1)1)8^' thtt  brgeat  collection  In  the  country 
Df,tsle3  Had  enngs  coocemliig  devils,  glinst^ 
iiones,  hrdwnits,  witches,  wArlocEfa,  apiukiea, 
ke^ies,  elf-candleSr  dcad-lightB,.'*[vraitha, 
sl>)i[>rition9,  cestniips,  giuiM,  enchtuited 
lowers,  (itagona,  and  otlec  tramjieiy.  This 
cultivated  the  latent  aeeda  of  poetry,  hut  had 
m  stioiig  HI)  eU'ect  on  my  imsginBtion,  that 
to .  Uiis  hour,  in  my  nocturnal  rambles,  I 
eometimea  keep  a  sharp  look-ont  in  ,  sua- 
pidoas  places ;  and  though  nobody  can  be 
more  sc^^tical  than  I  am  in  such  mattera, 
yefit  often  takes  an  effort  of  philoaophy  to 
(ihelLe  .  off  these  idle  terrors.  The  earliest 
compoaitioD  Chat  I  recollect  taking  pleasure 
in  was  The  Vision  of  Miraa,  and  a  -hymn 
of  Addison's,  heginuing,  "How  are  thy 
serrants  blest,  oh  Lordl"!  particularly 
remember  one  hattstuua,  which  was  music 
to  n^  hbyidi  eat ; — 

■Tor  though  on  dreodful  -whirls  we  huDs 

ffi^onthelrokeawave.' 
I  inet  with  tlieae  pieeea  ui  Mason's  English 
Collection,  one  of  my  echool-books.     'J'he 


two  books  I  ever  read  sinc^  were  the  Life 
of  Hannibal,  and  TheHiatory  of  Sir  WiBiam 
Wallace.  Hannibal  gave  my  youn^  ideas 
Bneh  a  tnm,  that  I  used  to  stmt  m  rap- 
tures up  and  down  after  the  recruiting  drum 
and'. bagpipe,  and.  wieli  myself  tall  eootigh 
to  be  a  soldier ;  while  the  story  of  Wal^e 
ptrared  a  Scottish  prqudice  into  my  reins, 
whfch  wUl.  boil  idong  there  till  the  flood- 
gates of  life  shut  in  eternal  rest" 

"Polemical  divinity  sbont  this  time  was 
putting  ilie'  country  half  mad ;  and  I,  ambi- 
tiona  of  shining  in  eonversatioui  parties  on 
Sundays,  between  sermoas,  at  fiineials,  &&, 
used,  a  few  years  afterwards,  to  puasle 
Calvinism  with  so  much  heat  and  indiscre- 
tioii,  that  1  raised  a  hue  and  cry  of  heresy 
aginnst  me,  which  has  not  ceaaed  to  this 

"My  tidnity  to  Ayt  mis  of  some  advan- 
t^e  to  me.  My  social  disposition,  when 
not  checked  by  some  modiflcationa  of  apnited 
pri4e,  vras,  lite  ora  Catechisni  definition  of 
infinitude,  unthont  lowndt  or  Kmils.  I 
formed  ^several  counecti6nS  with  other 
yMinken  who  possessed  Gupetior,  advan- 
tage, the  jDnnffiins  actors,  who  were  buay 
in  the  rehearsd  ca  parts  in  which  they 
were  shortly  to  appeal  on  the  stage  of  life, 
where,  alas !  1  was  destined  to  drudge 
behii^d  the  scenes.  ,  It  is  not  comnionly  at 
this  green  age  that  our  yonpg  gentry  have 
a  Ju;W. sense  of  tin  iniinense  distonce  be- 
twceii  them  and  their  ragged  pl^felkiws. 


It  takes  a  few  dashes  into  the  world,  to  giie 

nnnoddng  disregard  for  the  poflr  insigni- 

peasantry  around  him;  whtf  nere  {jerhapa 
bom  in  the  same  village.  My  young  supe- 
riors never  insulted  the  ctoutsri^  appearance 
of  my  plough-boy  carcase  th^  two  estremes 
of  which  Were  often  exposed  to  all  the  in- 
clemenines  of  all  seasons.  They  would  give 
me  stray  volumes  of  books:  among-them, 
even  then,  I  could  ficY  up  some  obserTO- 
tions ;  and  one,  whose  heart  I  am  sure  not 
even  the  Mmmy  Segam  scenes  have  tainted, 
helped  me  to  a  little  French.  Psning  wiih 
these  my  young  friends  and  benefactors,  as 
they  occasionuly  went  off  for  the  East  or 
West  Indies,  was  often  to  me  a  sore  afflic- 
tion ;  but  I  was  soon  called  to  more  seriona 
evils.  My  father's  generous  master  died ; 
the  fenn  proved  a  ruinous  haigam ;  ajid  to 
clench  the  misfortune,  we  fell  into  the  handi 
of  a  factor,  who  sat  tor  the  picture  I  hava 
drawn  of  one.  in  my  tale  of  TwaBogs. 
My  fether  was  advanced  in  life  whai  ha 
married ;  I  was  the  eldest  of  seven  children ; 
and  he,  worn  out  by  ^ly  hsrdahips,  was 
unfit  for  labour.  My  father's  spirit  was  soon 
irritated,  but  not  easily  broken.  There  was 
a  freedom  in  his  lease  in  two  yeaVs  more; 


inched    < 


We 


very 


poorly.    I  was  a  dexterous  plougbmf 
my  age';  and  the  next  eldest  to  me  was  a 
brother  IGilhert)  who  could  drive  the  plough 
very  well,  and,  help  me  to  thrash  the  com. 

these  scenes  with  some  satisfaction,  but  so 
did  not  I ;  my  indignation  yet  boila  at  the 
recollection  of- the  scoundrel  factor's  inso. 
lent,   threatening  letters,  which   used  ta 

"This  kind  of  life— the  cheerless  gloom 
of  hetmit,  with  the  unceasing  toil  of  a 
galley-slave,  brought  me  to  my  sixteenth 
year;  a  httle  bemre  .which  period  t  first 
committed  the  sm  of  rhyme.  Yon  know 
our  country  custom  of  coupling  a  man 
and  woman  together  a>  'partners  in  the 
labours  of  harteat.  In  my  fifteenth  autumn 
my  partner  was  a  hewitdung  creature '  a 
year  youi^et-  than  myself.  My  scarcity  of 
Eu^h  dffliies  me  the  power  irf  doing  her 
.JDstice  in  that  language;  but  you  know 
the  Stottiahi  idiom — abe  was  ■  a  ionnia, 
swe^,'  sonsis  lass.  In  ahort,  she  alti:^;e- 
thee  unwittingly  to  herself,  initiated  me  in 
that  d^cious  passion  which,  in  spite  of  acid 
disappointment,  gpn-Iiorse  prudence,  and 
hook-worm  plnloa^ihyil  bold  ^o.be^tiie  fitst 


10,  Google 


or  human  jojs,  our  dfsrest  blessing  here 
helow  1  How  she  caught  the  contagion,  I 
euinot  tell ;  you  medical  people  talk  much 
of  infection  from  brcathnig  the  same  air,  the 
tonch,  &c,  but  I  never  expressly  aaid  1  loved 
her.  Indeed  I  Hid  not  kaov  myself  why  I 
Uked  so  mncSi  to  loiter  behind  vith  her 
«hen  Tetnnung  in  the  eveuii^  Trom  our 
hiboura ;  why  tte  tones  of  her  voice  made 
my  heart-strings  thrill  like  sn  ^olian  harp ; 
and  particular^,  why  my  pnlse  beat  such  a 
furious  ratan  when  I  looted  and  lii^red 
over  her  hltle  hand  to  pick  out  tlie  oruel 
nettle-sthi^  and  thistles.  Among  her  other 
love-inspinng  quaKtiea,  she  sang  sweetly; 
»nd  it  was  her  favourite  reel  to  which  1  al^ 
tempted  givii^  ancmbodied  vdiicle  in  thyme. 
(8)  I  was  not  so  presumptuous  aa  to  imagine 
tluit  I  could  make  verses  like  printed  ones, 
composed  by  men  who  had  Greekuid  Latin ; 


is  father's  maids,  Tvilli  whom  lie 
was  in  love,  and  I  sawno  reason  why  I  miglit 
not  rhyme  aa  well  aa  he ;  for,  excepting  ihat 
be  could  smeiu  sheep,  and  cast  peats,  his 
fiither  living  '-  -■■ '— '-  ■-  ■-'  -■ 


TuH  and  Dickson  on  Agriculture,  the  Pan-- 
theon,  Locke's  Essay  on  the  Human  Under* 
sianduiB,  Slackhonse's  History  of  the  Bibl^ 


British    Gardi 


ft  than  myself." 


with  me  be^sa  love  and  poetry ; 
w'lich  at  times  have  been  my  only,  and  till 
w.thiu  the  last  twelve  months,  have  been  my 
highest  enjoyment.  My  ftther  stru^led  on 
till  he  readied  the  freedom  in  his  lease, 
when  he  entered  on  a  larger  farm,  about  ten 
miles  thrthec  in  the  country.  The  nature  of 
tlie  bBrgiun  he  made  was  such  as  to  throw 
a  little  ready  money  mto  his  hands  at  the 

afiiur  woukl  have  been  impracticable.  For 
four  years  we  fived  comfortahly  here ;  but  a 
diScrence  commencing  between  him  and  his 
landlord  as  to  terms,  after  three  years'  tossing 
and  whirling  in  the  vortex  of  Utigation,  iny 
fether  was  just  aaied  from  the  hotrora  iS 
a  jail  by  a  consumption,  which,  after  two 
years'  promises,  kindly  stepped  in,  and 
(arried  him  away,  to  wSere  iJie  micked  ceaie 
from  ffouMinii,  and  the  vteary  oTff  at  rest'' 

"It  is  during  the  time  that  we  lived  on 
this  ferm  that  my  little  story  is  moat 
eventful,    I  was,  at  the  beginning  of  this 

Cd,  perhaps  Che  moat  ungainly,  awkward 
in  the  parish — no  solitaire  was  leas 
BCquMnted  with  the  ways  of  the  world. 
What  I  knew  of  amncnt  storywas  gathered 
from  Sahnon'a  and  Guthrie's  gecgraphieal 
tmunmars ;  and  the  ideas  I  had  formed  of 
modem  manners,  of  literatuia  and  niticism, 
I  got  ftom  the  Spectator.  These,  with 
Pope's  Wotka,  some  plays  of  Shakspeaie, 


Bayle'a  Lectures,  All«i  Kamsay'i  Works, 
Taylor's  Scripture  Doctrine  of  Original  Sin, 
A  Select  Collectitai  of  Bng^h  Sor^,  and 
Hercey's  Meditations,  had  formed  the  whole 
of  my  reading.  The  collection  of  song;s  ws) 
my  Bade  memm.  I  pored  over  them  driving 
my  cart,  or  walking  to  labour,  song  by  song, 
verse  by  verse — carefully  noting  the  true, 
tender  or  sublime,  from  affectation  and 
fustian.  I  am  convinced  I  owe  to  this 
practice  much  of  my  critic  ccaft,  sui:h  as  it 


danciuK  achool.  My  father  had  an  unac- 
countuhls  antipathy  agiiinBt  these  meetings, 
and  my  giHng  wu,  what  to  thb  moment  I 
repent,  in  opposition  to  his  wishes.  My 
fiither,  as  I  said  before,  was  subject  Xn 
strong  passions ;  from  that  instance  of  4i»> 
obedience  in  me  he  took  a  sort  of  dishtc  ta 
me,  which  X  heheve  was  one  cawe  of  tha. 
dissipation  which  marked  my  MKoeedj^ 
years.  I  Bay  dissipation,  e«nparatively  witi^ 
the  strictness,  and  sobriety,  and  regularity, 
of  ^^shytehan  country  hfe;  for.  Ijiough 
the  Will  o'  Wisp  meteois.  of  thpughlM* 
whim  were  ahuost  the  sole  hghts  of  my 

Eth,  yet  catty  ingrained  piety  a^id  tiilne. 
pt  me  for  several  years  afterwards  withW 
the  hue  of  iunocer«:e.  Th*  great  misibrtun* 
of  my  life  was  to  wait  an  aim.  I  had  felt 
earlv  some  atinings  of  ambition,  but  the}i 
blind  gropings  of  Homer's  Cych^ 
le  walls  of  his  cave.  I  saw  my 
JatJier'a  aitnation  entailed  on  me  perpetual 
iabour.  Thp  only  two  openings  by  which 
I  could  alter  the  tensile  of  fiirtune,  waa 
the  gate  of  ni^ardly  economy,  or  the  padi 
of  little,  chicaning  bargain-making,  Thcfirst 
is  so  contracted  ai         •        ■ 


'ound  the  V 


myself  k 


e  bst  I 


hated — there  was  contamiiuitton  in  the  veiy 
entrance!  Thus  abandoned  of  ana  or  view 
in  life,  with  a  strong  appetite  for  sodabiUty, 
as  well  firom  native  hilarity  as  from  a  pride 
of  observation  and  remark — a  consStutiimal 
melancholy  or  hypochondriasm  that  mada 
me  fly  to  sohcnde ;  add  to  these  incentJTea 
to  ao«al  life,  my  reputat^  for  bookish 
knowledge,  a  certain  wild  logical  talent 
and  a  strength  of  thought,  something  Uke 
the  rudiments  of  good  sense,  and  it  will  not 
seem  surpriamg  that  I  waa  generally  a 
wekome  guest  where  I  visited,  or  any  great 
wonder  that,  always  wheie  two  ta  three  owt 


Hoifdb,  Google 


LIFE   OF   BUENS. 


lo^ber,  there  vas  I  amang-  them,  But 
far  beyond  all  other  impulses  of  my  heart, 
vaa  urt  penEfisiit  A  P  Ddorabte  moitii  du  penre 
AwHom.  My  heart  was  completely  tinder, 
and  was  eternally  lighted  np  by  some  goddess 
or  other;  and  aa  in  eiery  other  warfiire  in 

I WM  tecrived  with  favour,  and  aonietiines 
I  waa  mortified  with  a  repulse.  At  the  plough, 
Kythe.  or  leaphook,  I  feared  no  competitor, 
and  Uias  I  set  absolute  want  at  defiance ; 
and  as  I  nerer  cared  fortbei  for  my  labours 
than  while  I  was  in  actual  exercise,  I  spent 
le  way  after  tny  own  heart. 


seldom 


sitting  confidant. 
I  possessed  a  curiosity,  leul,  and  intrepid 
dexEenCy,  that  recommended  me  as  a  proper 
Herond  on  these  oeeasious ;  aud,  i  dare  soy, 
I  feit  aa  much  pleasure  in  being  in  the  secret 
of  half  the  loves  of  the  pansh  of  Tarbolton, 
M  ever  did  statesman  in  knowing  the  in- 
trigues of  half  the  courts  of  Europe.  <0) 
The  very  goose-feather  in  mj  band  seema 
to  know  instinctively  the  wcU-woru  path  of 
my  ima^naCion,  the  favourite  theme  of  my 
song,  and  ia  with  difficulty  restrained  from 

K'ring  you  a  couple  of  paragraphs  on   the 
L^e-advenEures  of  aiy  coiDjieers,  tlie  humble 
inmates  of  the  ferm-house  and  cottage ;  bat 

baptisB  these  thuigs  by  the  name  of  follies. 
(10)  To  the  sons  and  daugliters  of  labour  and 
poverty,  they  are  matters  of  the  most  serious 
nature ;  to  them,  the  ardent  hope,  the  stolen 
interview,  the  lender  ferewell,  are  the 
greatest  and  most  delicious  parts  of  their 
enjoyments." 

"  Another  ciraimstanca  in  my  life  which 
made  some  alteration  m  my  mind  and  mai 
ners  was,  that  I  spent  ray  nineteenth  sun 

firom  home,  at  a  noted  school,  to  lear 
mensuratioo.  aurveyiug,  dialling,  &c.,  i 
which  I  made  a  pretty  good  progress.  £l 
I  made  a  greater  progress  in  the  knowledge 
of  mankind.  The  contraband  trade  was  * 
that  tJme  very  snccessful,  and  it  sometin' 
buipened  to  me  to  &11  in  with  those  w 


and  roaring  dissipation  were  till  this 
new  to  me ;  but  I  was  no  enemy  to  serial 
life.  Here,  thoi^h  II  ,-,,-" 
and  to  mix  without  rear  m  a  uiunucn 
aquabhl^  yet  I  went  on  with  a  high  hand 
with  my  geometry,  till  the  sun  entered 
Virgo,  a  month  which  is  always  a  carnival 
in  my  bosom,  when  a  cliarmmg  filelle,  who 
lived  next  door  to  the  school,  overset  my 
tdgonometr;,  and  act  me  off  at  a  tangent 


from  the  sphere  of  my  studies.  I,  iiowerer, 
straggled  on  with  my  aiaea  and  co-siBcs  tor 

garden  one  charming  noon  to  take  the  sun's 
altitude,  there  I  met  my  angel, 

*  Like  Proserpine,  gathering  flowers. 

It  was  in  vain  to  think  of  domg  any  more 
good  at  school.  The  remaining  week  I 
ataid  1  did  nothing  hut  craze  the  faculties  of 
my  soul  about  1^,  or  steal  out  to  meet 
her ;  and  the  two  last  nights  of  my  stay  m 
the  country,  had  sleep  been  a  mortal  sin, 
the  image  of  this  modest  and  innocent  girl 
had  kept  me  guiltlcas." 

"  I  returued  liome  very  considerably  im- 
proved. My  reading  was  enlarged  with  the 
very  important  addition  of  Thomson's  and 
Bheiistone'e  Works.  I  had  seen  human 
nature  ina  new  phasia;  and  I  et^aged  several 
of  my  school-fellows  to  keep  up  a  literary 
correspondence  with  me.   This  improved  me 

of  letters  by  the  wita  of  tlueen  Anne's  reign, 
and  I  pored  over  them  most  devoutly;  I 
kept  copies  of  any  of  my  own  letters  that 
pleased  me;  and  a  comparison  hotween 
them  and  the  compo«tion  of  most  of  my 
correspondents,  flattered  my  vauitv,  I 
carried  tliia  whim  so  far,  that  though  I  had 
not  three  farthings'  worth  of  business  in 
the  world,  yet  ahiSsl  every  post  brought  me 
as  many  letters  as  if  I  luid  been  a  broad 
plodding  son  of  day  Jiook  and  ledger," 

"  My  lile  Bowed  on  much  in  the  sama 
course  tiU  my  twenty-third  year.  Vict 
I'amonr  et  onw  la  Imgalelle,  vfte  my  sole 
pmiciples  of  action  The  addition  of  two 
more  authors  to  mv  library  gave  me  great 
pleasure ,  Sceme  and  M'Kenzie — Tristram 
Slumd/  and  The  Man  of  Feeling— were 
mv  ho«om  faiounles.  Poesy  was  still  a 
darhng  walk  for  mv  mind,  hut  it  nas  only 
indulged  in  according  to  tlie  humour  of  tlie 


iofthe  mind,  and 


dismissed  the  work  as  it  bordered  ou  fiitigue. 
My  pasHons,  when  once  lighted  np,  r^ed 
lite  so  many  deiila.  tdl  they  got  vent  in 
rhyme ;  and  then  the  connuig  over  my 
verses,  like  a  spell,  soothed  all  into  quiet  1 
None  of  the  rhymes  of  those  days  are  in 
print,  escepl  Winter,  a  Dirge,  the  eldest  of 
my  printed  pieces;  The  Peath  of  Poor 
Mailie,  John  Barleycorn,  and  songs  first, 
second,  and  third  (11)  Song  second  was 
the  ebulhtion  of  that  passion  which  ended 
the  {ore-mentioned  school-buBinesa.'' 


Hosted  by  Google 


LUCKLESS  FARMIS9  8PECUL4TI0N. 


13 


likeatr 


"  My  twenty-thira  year  waa  to  me  an  ini- 
poTtant«Fa.  Part]ythrou^hwhnD,Hndpartly 
that  I  wished  to  set  about  doing  some- 
Hiing  in  life,  i  joined  a  fiii-dreaaer  in  a 
nd^hhoiiTii^  towa  (Irvine)  to  learn  hia 
trade.  This  waBannnlucky  af&ir.  Mj'*'; 
and,  to  linisU  the  nhole,  as  we  were  giving 

Dt  worth  ■  siipence." 
--  J.  wua  uuii^k^u  to  give  up  this  ieheme ; 
the   clouds  of  misfortune  were  gathering 
thick  round  roy  fether'j  head ;  and,  what 
vaa  worat  of  ail,  he  waa  viaihly  iiij  gone  in 


y,  jilted  me,  with  pecuii 
Btaiicea  of  mortification.  1  he  finishing  evil 
that  brought  up  the  rear  of  this  uifernul  lile, 
was  my  cODslitutional  melancholy  being  iu- 
CTeased  to  siicli  s  degree,  that  for  three 

be  envied  by  the  hopeless  wretches  who  have 
^t  tjieir  mit^imuB^'.Depail  pTtia  me,  ye  ac- 


"Fromtliisad'eiiture  I  learned  something 
of  a  lowii  life ;  but  the  principal  thing  which 
Fave  my  luiud  a  turn,  was  a  tiiendsliip  1 
termed  ivith  a  yonng  fellow,  a  very  noble 
character,  but  a  hapless  son  of  mi^ortune. 
He  waa  the  son  of  a  simple  mechanic ;  but 

him  under  his  patronage,  gave  bhn  a  gente^ 
educncioo,  with  a  view  of  bettering  hia  situa. 
tioQ  in  life.  The  patron  dying  juBt  as  he 
was  ready  to  launch  out  into  the  world, 
the  poor  fellow  in  despair  went  to  eea, 
where,  afLer  a  variety  of  good  and  ill  for- 
tune, a  little  before  I  was  acquainted  vith 


re  by  a. 


.  oil  the  wild 

naught,  stripped  of  everything.    I  cMiaot 

(luit  this  poor  ffellow'a  atory  without  adding, 

West-Indiaman  belonging  to  tlie  TTianies." 
"His  mind  was  fraught  uiLh  indepen- 
dence, niagnaniraity,  and  every  manly  virtue. 
1  loved  and  admired  him  to  a  degree  of 
enthusiasm,  and  of  course  atrove  to  imitate 

pride  before,  but  he  taught  it  to  flow  in 
proper  channels.     His  knowled^  of  the 

was  alL  attention  to  leara.  He  was  the  only 
man  1  ever  saw  who  was  a  greater  fool  than 

but  he  spoke  of  illicit  love  with  Che  levity 
of  a  sailot,  which  hitherto  I  had  regarded 
with  honor.  (13}    lien  hia  friendship  did 


a  mischief;  and  the  i 


isequence  was 

w^tethe'pM^  Wdc'ime"(131  My  read- 
ing only  inctcaaed,  while  in  this  town,  by 

rerdiuand  Count  Fathom,  which  gave  ne 
some  idea  of  novela.  Bhyme,  eicept  soma 
religious  pieces  that  are  in  print,  I  had  given 
up ;  but  meeting  with  Fergnsson's  Scottirfi 
Poema,  I  strung  anew  my  wildly-soundii^ 
lyre  with  emulating  vigour.  When  nrr 
father  died,  his  all  went  among  the  h^- 
hounda  that  prowl  in  tlie  kennel  of  justite  j 
but  we  made  a  shift  to  collect  alittle  money 
in  the  Aunily  amongst  ns,  with  which  to 
k^ep  ns  togetliet;  my  brother  and  I  took  a 
ne^hbonriiig  farm.  My  brothec  wanted 
my  hair-brained  inu^nation,  aa  well  aa  my 
social  and  amorous  madness ;  but,  in  good 
sense,  and  every  sober  qualificatian.  he  waa 
fer  my  aupertor." 

"I  entered  on  this  farm  with  a  lull  resiv 
lution.  Come,  go  to,  I  Kill  be  leile!  I  read 
farming  bocia — 1  calculated  crops — I  at- 
tended markets — and,  m  ahorC,  m  spite  of 
tie  deinl.  and  lie  KBrld,  and  the  fleah,  I 


believ 


bould  h 


alely 


buying  bad  seed,  the  second,  from  a  lata 
harvest,  we  lost  half  our  crops.  This  ant- 
act  all  my  wisdom,  and  1  returned,  titie  tie 
doff  to  his  vomit,  and  Iheeow  thataaeioaehed, 
to  her  walleicing  in  Ike  mire." 

"  1  now  began  to  be  known  in  the  neigh- 
bourhood as  a  maker  of  rhymes.  The  first 
of  my  ]>oetic  offspring  that  saw  the  light, 
was  a  burlesque  lamentation  on  a  quarrel 
between  two  reverend  Calvinists,  both  of 
them  dramatis  fiMDHiB  in  my  Holy  Faur. 
i  had  a  notion  myself  that  the  piece  had 
some  merit;  bnl  to  prevent  the  worst,  I  gave 
a  copy  of  it  to  a  friend  who  was  very  fond 
of  such  things,  and  told  him  that  1  could 
not  guess  who  was  the  author  of  it,  but  that 
1  thought  it  pretty  devw.  With  a  certain 
description  of  the  clergy,  as  well  as  laity,  it 
met  with  a  roar  of  (^planse,  (II)  H(dy 
TV'illie's  Prayer  next  made  its  appearance, 
and  alarmed  the  kitk-seasian  so  mnch,  that 
tliey  held  several  meetings  to  look  over  thdp 
spiritual  artillery,  if  haply  any  of  it  mfeht 
be  pointed  against  profane  writers.  Un- 
luckily for  m^  my  wanderings  led  me  on 
another  sid^  within  point-blankahot  of 
their  heaviest  metal.  This  is  the  unfor- 
tunate story  that  gave  riae  to  my  printed 
poem — The  lament.  This  was  a  most  me- 
lancholy affair,  which  1  cannot  yet  bear  to 
reflect  on,  and  had  very  nearly  given  mo 
one  or  tuo  of  the  principal  qualifications  foi 


Ho,t,db,  Google 


14 


UFE  OF  BUESfi. 


a  pItuM  among  thoae  vho  have  lost  the 
iHiaxt,  and  inisCaken  the  reckoning,  of 
IBtionality.  I  gave  up  my  part  of  the  farm 
to  my  hrother — in  truth  it  was  only  nDmr- 
nally  mine — and  made  »hat  httle  prepara- 
tion was  in  my  power  for  JaniMca.  But, 
bflibre  leaving  my  native  country  for  ever,  1 
resolved  to  publish  my  poeiua.  I  we^hed 
my  productions  as  impartially  ta  was  in  my 
power:  I  thought  they  had  merit;,  and  it 
nas  a  delicious  idea  that  I  should  he  called 
a  clever  fellow  even  though  it  should  never 

haps  a  victim  to  that  inhospitable  clune, 
sud  gone  to  the  world  of  spirits !  1  con 
truly  say,  that  pauere  iflcrmflu  as  1  then  was, 
I  had  pretty  nearly  as  h^h  an  idea  of  myself 
and  of  my  works  as  I  have  at  this  moment 
when  the  public  lias  decided  in  thdr  favour. 
It  ever  was  my  opinion,  that  the  mistakes 
and  blunders,  both  in  a  rttioual  and  religious 
point  of  view,  of  irhich  we  see  thonsiuda 
daily  guilty,  »e  owing  to  their  ignorance  of 
themselves.  To  know  myself  had  been  all 
along  my  constant  study.  I  \reighed  myself 
alone— I  balanced  mys^  nith  others — 1 
watched  every  means  of  information,  to  see 
bow  much  ground  I  occupied  as  a  man  and 
BB  a  poet ; — 1  studied  assiduously  Nature's 
design  in  my  formation— where  the  lij.'hts 
and  shades  in  my  character  were  intended. 
I  »as  pretty  couliiient  my  poems  would 
meet  with  some  applause  (15);  but,  at  the 
worst,  the  roar  of  tlie  Atlantic  would  de^en 
the  voice  of  censure,  and  the  novelty  of 
West-Indian  scenes  make  me  forget  neg- 
lect. I  threw  off  six  hundred  copies,  of 
which  I  had  got  subaeriptions  fbr  about 
three  hundred  and  Mly.  My  vanity  was 
highly  gratified  by  the  reception  I  met  with 
from  the  pubHc;  and,  hesides,  I  pocketed, 
all  expenses  deducted,  nearly  twenty  pounds. 
This  sum  come  very  seasonably,  as  I  was 
Ihinkuig  of  indentmg  myself,  for  want  of 
money  to  procure  my  pass^e.  As  soon 
as  I  was  miister  of  nine  guineas,  the  price 
of  wafting  me  to  the  tomd  tone,  I  took  a 
steerage-passage  in  the  first  ship  that  was 
to  sail  from  the  Oyde ;  for 

'Hungry  ruin  had  me  in  the  wind.' 
'1  had  been  for  some  dap  skulking 

of  a  Jail ;  as  some  ill-advised  people  had  un- 
coupled the  m«iJless  pack  of  the  law  at  my 
heels.  I  had  taken  the  last  farewell  of  my 
few  friends ;  my  chest  was  on  the  road  to 
Greenock ;  I  had  composed  the  last  song  I 
should  ever  measure  in  Caledonia— 'llie 
Gloomy  Night  is  Gathering  Fast— when  a 
letter  ftom  Dr.  Blackbck  to  a  friend  of 


mine  overthrew  all  my  schemes,  by  opening 
new  prospects  to  my  poetic  ambition.  'Die 
doctor  belonged  to  -       ■      - 


reil  tc 


tpplau 

sens  in  Edinburgh  for  a  second  e<litinn, 
ired  me  so  much,  that  away  I  posted  for 
^hat  city,  without  ■  sli^  acqnnmtance,  or 
1  single  letter  of  introduction.  The  baneful 
itat  that  had  so  long  shed  its  blasting  iullu- 


™th,ft 


tion  to  the  nadir ;  and  a  kind  ftovidence 

Ilie  noblest  of  men,  the  Earl  of  Glencaim. 
Oabih  nisi.  Grand  Dieu,  ti  jaiwii  j» 
roMiiie/" 

"1  need  relate  no  farther.    At  Edinhur^ 

many  classes  of  men,  but  aH  of  Uiem  ne»  to 
roe,  and  I  was  all  attention  to  catch  the 
diiuflfters  and  the  tamuiers  liviit;^  os  Ihett 


"My  most  respectful  compliments  to 
Miss  \V.  (18)  Her  very  elegant  and  friendly 
letter  I  cannot  answer  at  present,  as  my 
presence  is  requisite  in  Edinburgh,  and  X 


At  the  period  of  our  poet^s  death,  his 
hrother,  Gilbert  Bums,  was  ignorant  that 
he  had  hinuelf  written  the  forgoing  narra- 
tive of  his  life  while  ia  Ayrshue;  and 
having  been  apphed  to  by  Mrs.  Bnnlop  for 
some  memoirs  of  his  brother,  he  complied 
with  her  request  in  a  letter,  from  which  tlie 
following    narrative    is    chiefly    extracted. 


liohert  Burns  was  born  on  the  ! 
of  January  i;ii9,  in  a  small  house  i 
two  miles  ftom  the  town  of  Aye,  and  within 
a  few  hundred  yards  of  Alloway  cliureh, 
whii^  his  poem  of  Tarn  o'  Shanter  has 
rendered  immortal.  (18)  The  name,  which 
the  poet  and  bis  brother  modernised  into 
Bums,  was  originally  Bumes  or  Bumeaa, 
liieir  father,  WilUam  Burnea,  wi 
>f  a  farmer  i      ■ 


I  had 
Scotland 

arithmetic.    His  &mily  havmg  f^leii  into 
reduced  circumstances,  he  was  compelled  to 

med  his  steps  towards  the  sonth,  in  quest 
aUvdihood  Tlie  same  necessity  attended 
s  elder  brother  Bohert.     "I  have  often 


Ho,t,db,  Google 


WILLIAM  BURSES  OK  BUESS.  15 

heard  my  fether"  (soys  GUbert  Bums,  in  |  tnletably  well  (^0),  and  to  write  a  littla 
his  letter  to  Mrs.  Dunlop]  "deaeribe  tbe  He  tnuglit,  us,  too.  the  Englisli  graminiir. 
angijish  of  mind  he  felt  when  they  parted  I  was  too  young  to  profit  much  from  hia 
on  the  (op  of  a  hill  on  the  confines  of  their  lessons  in  grsramai,  but  Kobert  made  some 
natire  place,  each  goinj 


nd  scarcely 
liuowing  whilhei  ha  went.  My  thtlier  un- 
dertook to  act  as  a  gardener,  and  shaped 
his  eourse  to  Edinburgh,  where  he  wrought 


1   get  t 


ssing 


throi^h  s  variety  of  ditfleulties. 
ever,  be  endeavoured  to  spare  aomethin 
for  tjie  support  of  his  ^(A  parent ;  and 
ncollect  hearing  him  mention  bis  havii^ 
sent  a  bank-note  for  this  purpose,  when 
money  of  that  kind  was  so  scarce  in  Kin 
eardineshne,  that  they  scarcely  knew  ho\ 
to  employ  it  when  it  arrived."  IVom  Edin- 
burgh, William  Burnes  passed  westward 
into  the  county  of  Ayr,  where  he  engaged 
himself  as  a  g^dsuer  to  tbe  iLurd  of  I'anly, 
with  whom  he  lived  two  years ;  tiien  chang- 
ing his  service  for  that  of  Crawford  of 
Doonside,  At  length,  being  deairous  of 
Bctlliiig  in  life,  he  took  a  perpetual  lease  of 
■even  acrea  of  hind  from  Ur,  CampbeU, 
physician  in  Ayr,  with  the  view  of  com- 
mencing nnrserymaB  and  public  gardener  ] 
(Bid,  having  built      '  


Agnes  Brown,  the 
Edll  survives.  (19) 
marriage  was  Eobi 


If  poet,  who 


3  ha*  already  been  r 


fruit  of 

)f  January,  1750, 
irionei  Before 
William  Bumea  had  niEide  mm^  prngreaa 
In  preparing  his  nursery,  he  was  withdrawn 
from  that  undertaking  by  Mr.  Ferguscoi, 
who  purchased  the  estate  of  Doouhohn,  in 
the  uumediate  aeighbonrhood,  and  engaged 
him  aa  bis  gardener  and  overseer;  and  thia 

Though  in  the  service  of  He.  Ferguson,  he 
lived  in  his  own  houae,  his  nife  managmg 
her  tamily  and  h«  Httle  dairy,  which  cou- 
eisced  sometimes  of  two,  sometimes  of  three 
milcb-cows ;  and  this  state  of  mianibiiJous 
content  continued  tiU  the  year  i7GQ.  Hia 
Hon  Robert  was  sent  by  him  in  his  sixth  j'car 
to  a  acboal  at  Alloway  Mibi,  about  a  mile 

Campbell ;  but  this  teacher  bemg  in  a  few 
montba  appointed  niaater  of  the  workhouse 
at  Ayr,  William  Bumes,  in  conjunction  with 
some  oCliet  heada  of  timilles,  engaged  John 
liurdoch  in  his  stead,  llieeducalionof  our 
poet,  and  of  his  brother  Gilbert,  was  in  com- 
mon; and  oftbKEproflaency  under  Mr.  Muc- 

"With   him   we    learnt    to  read  Enghsh . 


genius  and  character;  as  he  soon  becama 
remarkable  for  tiie  fiuuicy  and  correctness 
of  hia  espresaion,  and  read  the  few  books 
that  came  in  hia  way  with  much  pleasure 
aud  iuipcovement :  for  even  then  he  waa  a 
readoc  when  ho  could  gel  abook.  Murdoch, 
whose  library  at  that  rime  had  no  great 
variety  in  it,  lent  him  The  life  of  Hannibal, 
which  was  tlie  first  book  he  read  (the  achool- 
booka  eiceptedf,  and  ahuosC  the  oidy  one 
be.  had  an  opportunity  of  reading  whde  he 
was  at  school  j  for  'i'be  Lifa  of  M'allac^ 
which  be  clusea  with  it  in  one  o(  hia  letters 
to  you,  he  did  not  see  for  aome  years  after 
wards,  when  be  borrowed  it  from  the  blaii- 
sniith  who  shod  our  horses." 

It  appears  chat  William  Bumes  ^proved 
himae^  gready  in  the  service  of  Mr.  Fer- 
guson, by  bis  inlelllgcuce,  industry,  aud 
integrity.  In  consequmice  of  Iliia,  with  a 
view  of  promoting  hia  iutereat,  Air.  Ferguson 
leased  him  a  farm,  of  which  we  lia\e  the 

"nie  tarra  was  upwards  of  seven^ 
acres  (;>1]  (betiveen  eighty  aud  ninety,  En- 
glish statute  lueasurej,  the  rent  of  which 
was  to  ha  forty  pounds  annually  for  the 
Hiit  silt  years,  and  afterwards  forty-five 
pounds.  My  father  endeavoured  to  seU  his 
leaaehold  property,  for  the  purpose  of  stock- 
ing this  Qirm,  but  at  tliat  time  was  unable, 
and  Air,  Ferguson  lent  him  a  hundred  pounds 
tor  tliat  purpose.  Ha  removed  to  Ins  nenr 
sitvatioii  at  VVhitaantid^  1709.  It  was,  I 
think,  not  above  two  years  afrec  this,  tbiu^ 
Murdoch,  our  tutor  and  friend,  left  this  part 
of  the  country ;  and  there  being  no  school 
near  us,  and  our  httle  services  being  useful 
on  the  farm,  my  fattier  undertook  to  teach 
DS  arithuieue  in  the  winter  evenings,  by 
candle-light;  and  in  thia  way  my  two  eldest 
sisters  got  all  the  education  they  received. 
1  remember  a  circumstance  that  hapjiened 
at  tills  time,  which,  though  trifiing  ia 
itself,  is  fresh  in  my  memory,  and  may 
serve  to  illustrate  Ibe  early  character  of  iny 

wilb  us,  and  to  take  his  leave  when  ha 
was  about  la  go  into  Carrick.    He  brought 

small  compendium  of  English  Grammar,  and 
tbe  tragedy  of  Titus  Andionicus,  aii^  by 

jt  passing  the  evening,  be  began  to 

the  play  aloud.    We  were  all  attention 


Ho,t,db,  Google 


LIFE  OF  BCItKS. 


e,  till  preaenlly  flie  nhole  partj 


aiB  for  water  to  wash  lier  1 
in  aa  amny  of  distreas,  we 
desired  he  would  read  do  m 
obeerred,  that  it  we  would 
it  would  he  needless  to  lea- 

would  bum  it.     My  fathe 

chide  liim  for  this  un^tefui  retnm  to  nis 

tutor's  kindness;   but  Mnrdocll  interfered, 

declaring  that  he  Uked 

(etieibiliCy;    and  he  left  the  i 


jre.    My  father 
'e  the  play  with 


ts  going  t 


lility;  and  he  left  the  School  for  Lovt 
a  comedy^  translated  1  think  from  th 
French,  in  its  place."  (22) 

"  Nothii^,"  continues  Gilbert  Bums 
"  eonld  be  more  tetiied  than  our  genem 
maimer  of  living  at  Mount  OUpliant ;  ni 
rarely  saw  any  body  hut  tiie  membera  of  ou 
own  &nuly.  There  were  no  boys  of  ou 
it,  in  the  nrighbonrhood. 
'St  part  of  the  land  in  tlie 
nciuiiy  WU9  ai  thut  time  possessed  by 
shopkeepers,  and  people  of  that  stamp,  ' 
had  retired  frem  busiueas.  orwho  lent  1 
farm  in  the  coui 
the;  followed  business  in  to' 
was  for  some  Ume  almost 


Indeed,  the  s 


It  tlie  same  til 


byfath 


to  purchase  Tlie  Keadj  Beckoner,  or 
Tradesman's  Sure  Guide,  and  a  book  to 
teach  bira  to  write  letters.  Liickdy,  in 
place  of  The  Complete  Letter-Writer,  he  got 
by  mistake  a  smi^l  collection  of  letters  by 


Kobert    of    the      grealeal 


him  with  models  by  so 
in  om-  language." 

"My    bro3,er  was 
fourteen,  when  my  fi 


e  of  the  first  wi 


IS    about   thirteen   o? 
&ther,  regretting;  that 

. .,  »  the  parisli  school  M 
Dalrympte,  which,  though  between  two  or 
.  three  miles  distant,  was  the  nearest  to  ns, 
that  we  mi^t  have  an  opportunity  of 
'emedying  this  detect.  About  this  time 
1  bookish  acquaintance  of  my  father's  pro- 
'  cured  us  a  reading  of  two  volumes  of 
Bicbordaoa's  Fameb,  which  was  the  drst 
re  read,  and  tlie  only  part  of  Richard- 
son's works  my  brother  was  acquainted  with 
till  towards  die  period  of  his  commencing 
author,  im  ths-t  time,  too,  he  remained 
.  uuacquainted  with  Fielding,  with  Smollett 
'  (two  volumes  of  Ferdinand  Count  Fathom, 
.  and  two  lolumea  of  Peregrine  IRckle,  ex. 
.  cepted),  with  Hum^  with  Eobenson,  and 
"  our  authors  of  eminence  of  tlie 
t  great  pains,  while  ve  later  times.  I  recollect,  uideed,  my  father 
m  the  hibonra  of  the  borrowed  a  volume  of  Dngliah  history  from 
&am,  to  lead  the  conversation  to  such  Mr.  Hamilton  of  Bourtreebill'a  gardener, 
subjects  as  might  tend  to  increase  our  It  treated  of  the  reign  of  James  L,  and  h^ 
knowledge,  or  confirm  us  m  virlnou!  habits.  |  unfortunate  sou  Charles,  but  I  do  not  know 
He  borrowed  Salomon's  Gel^mphical Omra-  |  who  or-  -' -' "  "--'  "  '  - 


...,  aud  endeaTOUred  ..    .._ 

acquainted  with  the  situation  and  history 
of  the  liferent  countries  of  the  world; 
while,  from  a  book-society  in  Ayr,  he  pro- 
cured for  us  the  reading  of  Dur^iam'a  Fhysico 
'o-Theology,  and  Ray's  Wisdom  of 


lomcthing  of  Charles's  i 
witli  his  chiLdreu.  About  this 
doch.  our  former  teacher,  after  1 
in  dijibtentphiccs  in  the  country,  and  hating 


God  in  the  Crealioi . 

of  astronomy  and  naturjS  liistc 

— d  ail  thear  ■     ■-  --^-    — 


some  idea  i  English  language  in  Ayr,  a 


■cely    I 


father  had  been 
History  of  the  Bible,  tbe 
lished  by  James  Henros  in 
from  this  Kobert  eollected 
knowledge  of 


.  Robert 
idity  and 

quailed  My 
Stack  house's 

1  lately  piih- 


lustry,   . 


volumino 


nsideroble 

lembrauee  of 

Etip,  and  his 


I   tnne,  !Mur- 


ay  other's  former  friend- 


ivery  thing  ii 


.    Pope's 


a  bookseller's  shop  in  Ayr,  | 


works,  and  some  otiier  poetry,  the  I 
that  we  had  an  opportunity  of  reading, 
eiceptiug  what  is  contained  m  the  English 
Collodion,  and  in  the  volume  of  the 
Edinburgh  Magazine  for  1772;  eiicepting 
also  ffiose  excailent  new  songs  tbat  are 
hanked  about  the  country  in  boskets,  or 
exposed  on  stalls  in  tlie  streets." 
"The  summer  after  we   bad   been  at 


Ho,t,db,  Google 


BURKS  STUDIES  LATIV, 


the  hanfst 


.«■,  he  w 


I  back  1 


that  he  had  been  overtuken  in  liquor,  h 
happened  to  apeak  some""''"""  ■■-----   ---"-" 

of  Dr.  DohympleT  the  p 


and  this  completes  the  scco 
school  education,  excepting  one  inmmet 
quarter,  aome  time  afteiwards,  t^t  he 
attended  the  parish  school  of  Kiiloswetd 

mother's),  lo  leam  surveying." 

"  During  the  two  bat  weeks  that  he 
was  with  Mnrdoch,  he  hunself  was  engaged 
in  learning  French  (23),  and  he  commuiii- 
ctted  the  instructions  he  received  t«  m; 
brother,  who,  when  he  returned,  broi^ht 
home  with  him  a  French  dictionary  and 
grammar,  and  the  Adventures  of  Telemacbus 
In  the  original.  In  H  little  while,  by  the 
Bssislimce  of  these  books,  he  had  acquired 
widi  a  knowledge  of  the  language,  aa  to 
read  and  understand  any  French  author  in 
prose.  This  was  considered  ta  a  sort  of 
prodigy,  and  throogh  the  medium  of  Mur- 
doch, procured  hiia  the  acquaintance  of 
eeveral  iads  in  Ayr,  who  were  at  that 
time  gabbling  French,  and  the  notice  of 
some  iiimilies,  particularly  that  of  Dr. 
Malcolm,  wlicre  a  knowledge  of  French 
vta  a  recommendation." 

"  Obaerving  the  facility  with  vbich  be 
had  acquired  the  French  language,  Mr. 
Robinson,  the  eatahUshed  writuig-maalec 
in  Ayr.  and  Mr.  A£urdoch'a  particular 
friend,  baring  himself  acquired  a  con- 
siderable knowledge  of  the  LaUn  langua^ 
by  his  own  industry,  without  ever  having 
learned  it  at  school,  advised  Robert  to  make 
the  same  attempt,  promising  him  every 
assistance  m  bia  power.  AgTMably  to  this 
ednce,  he  purchased  the  Rudiments  of  the 
Latin  Tongue,  but  finding  this  study  dry 
uid  unmterestmg,  it  was  quickly  laid  aside. 
He  trequeniiy  returned  to  hia  Rudunenta 
on  any  little  chagrin  or  disappointment, 
partKiJacly  m  bia  lore  alTurs;  but  tlie 
latin    <ddom  predominated  more  than  a 


hadni 


be  thought  himself  entitled.  In  Ayr  ha 
might  as  well  have  spoken  btaanhemy.  He 
found  it  proper  to  give  np  Ins  appoint- 
ment. He  went  to  London,  where  be  still 
hves,  a  private  teacher  of  French.  Ha 
has  been  a  considerable  time  married,  and 
keeps  a  ahop  of  stationery  wares."  (24) 

"llie  father  of  Dr.  Paterson,  now  phy. 
aician  at  Ayr,  was.  I  believe,  a  native  of 
Aberdeenshire,  and  waa  one  of  the  estab- 
lished tpachera  in  Ayr  when  my  father 
settled  in  the  neighbonchool  He  early 
rect^nised  my  father  as  a  fellow  native  of 
the  north  of  Scotland,  and  a  certain  degree 
of  intimacy  aubaisled  between  them  durii^ 
Mr.  Paterson'a  bfe.  After  his  death,  his 
widow,  who  is  a  very  genteel  woman,  and 

thoitgbl  her  bushruid  would  have  vished 
to  have  done,  and  aaaiduonaly  kept  iqi  her 
attentions  to  all  bis  acquaintances.  She 
kept  abve  the  intimacy  with  our  family,  by 
fVequently  inviting  my  fhtlier  and  raoth^ 


diya,  * 


fooid 


Observmg,  himself,  the  ridicule  th: 
attach  to  this  sort  of  conduct  if  it  were 
known,  he  made  two  or  three  humorous 
stanzas  on  the  subject,  which  I  cannot  now 
recollect,  but  they  all  ended, 

_  "Thus  you  see  Mr.  Murdoch  was  a 
prindpol  means  of  my  brother's  improve- 
ment. Worthy  inMi!  though  foreign  to 
my  present  purpose,  I  cannot  lake  leave 


'■  When  she  came  to  know  my  brother^ 
passion  for  books  she  kindly  offered  us  the 
use  of  her  huaband's  library,  and  from  her 
we  got  the  Spectator,  Pope's  Translation  of 

of  use  to  us.  Mount  OliphanC,  the  farm 
my  father  possessed  in  the  parish  of  Ayr, 
ia  almost  the  very  poorest  soil  I  know  of 
ill  a  state  of  cultivation.  A  stronger 
proof  of  this  1  caimot  give,  than  that, 
notwithatanding  the  extraordinary  rise  in 
the  value  of  lands  in  Scotland,  it  was  let, 

proving  it  by  the  proprietor,  a  few  yeaia 
ago.  Bie  pounds  per  annum  lower  than  the 
rent  paid  for  it  by  my  father,  thirty  yean 
ago.  My  father,  in  consequence  of  itaSt 
aoou  carne  into  difficulties,  which  were 
increased  by  the  loss  of  several  of  his  cattb 
by  accidents  and  disease.  To  the  buffet- 
ings  of  misfortune,  we  could  only  oppose 
bard  labour  and  the  most  rigid  economy. 
We  lived  very  sparingly.    For  several  yeara 

while  all  the  members  ot  the  family  eierted 
themaelvea  to  the  utmost  of  then  strength, 
and  rather  beyond  it,  in  the  hibonrs  of  the. 
larm.    My  brother,  at  the  age  of  thirteen  . 


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18 


LIFE   OP   BUKXS. 


iBustcd  in  thrashing  the  nop  of  coi 
M  fifteen  was  the  prludpal  labourer 
farm,  for  we  had  no  hired  servan 
or  female.  'Hie  migiiiah  of  mind 
■t  our  tender  years,  under  these 
tod  difficulties,  was  very  great.     Tc 

idjove  Bfty),  hroken   down  with  the 


iguea 


and  five  other  chilitren,  and  in  a  dccUni 
Btate  of  drcumstancea — these  reflections 
produced  in  my  hrother'a  mind  and  mine 
eensationa  of  tlie  deepest  distress.  1  doubt 
not  but  the  hard  lahour  and  sorrow  of  this 
period  of  his  life,  was  in  a  great  measure 
the  cause  of  that  depression  of  spirits  with 
which  Robert  was  so  often  afflietM  through 


biawl 


me(,e 


via  ahnoat  constantly  afilicted 
ings  with  a  dull  headache,  'A'hich,  nt  a  future 
pmod  of  his  Ufe,  was  exchanged  for  B 
jialpiWHon  of  the  heart,  and  a  threatening 

the  night-time. 

"By  a  stipntstion  in  ray  fiither's  lease, 
he  had  a  right  to  throw  it  up,  if  lie  thought 
proper,  at  the  end  of  every  siith  year.  He 
Ulempled  to  fix  hunselt  in  a  better  farm 
at  the  end  of  the  first  mi  years,  but  failing 
in  thst  attempt,  he  continued  where  lie  was 
for  ail  years  more.  He  then  took  the 
farm  of  Locfcleo,  of  13(1  acres,  at  the  rent 
of  twenty  shillings  an  acre,  in  the  parish  of 

Tarholton,  of  Mr. ,  then  a  merchant  in 

Ayr,  and  noff  (1797)  a  merchant  in  Liver- 
pool. Be  removed  to  tliis  farm  on  'Whit- 
•nndaj,  1777,  and  possessed  it  only  sei'en 
Tears.  No  writing  had  ever  been  made  out 
of  the  conditions  ol  the  lease  i  a  mis- 
understanding took  place  respectmg  them ; 
the  subiecta  in  dispute  were  submitted  to 
arbitration,  and  the  dedsion  involved  my 
father's  efltos  in  ruin.  He  lived  to  know 
ofthtsdecir 


He  d 


1   the 


13fli  of  February,  1784." 

"The  seven  years  we  lived  in  Tarholton 
parish  (extending  from  the  leth  to  the 
2Gth  of  my  brother's  age),  were  not  marked 
hy  much  literary  improvement ;  hut  dniing 
this  time,  the  foundation  was  laid  of  certain 
ludiita  in  my  brother's  character,  which 
afterwards  become  but  too  prominent,  and 
which  rnalice  aud  envy  have  taken  delight 
to  enlarge  on.  Though  when  yoimg  he 
was  bashful  and  awkward  in  his  intercourse 
with  women,  yet,  when  he  approochei!  man. 
hood,  his  atlachmeut  to  their  society  became 
very  strong,  and  he  was  constantly  the 
lictim  of  come  fair  enslaver.      The  aymp- 


of   his 


equal  those  of  the  celebrated 
Ssjfphn.  I  never  indeed  knew  that  he 
fainted,  tunh,  and  died  airoii;  but  the 
agitations  of  his  mmd  and  body  eiceeded 
anything  of  the  kind  1  ever  knew  ui  real 
life.  He  had  always  a  particular  jealousy 
of  people  who  were  richer  than  himself,  ot 

love,  therefore,  rarely  settled  on  persons  of 
tliis    description.     When  he  selected  any 

pleasure,  tfl  whom  he  should  pay  his  par- 

with  a  snRicient  stock  of  chDrms,  nut  of 
the  plentiful  stores  of  liis  own  imagination ; 

between  his  £ut  captivator,  as  she  appeared 
to  others,  and  as  she  seemed  when  invested 
intlieattributes  he  gave  her.  OnegeneraJly 

Yorick's  afiections  flowed  out  toward  Ma- 
dame  de  L —  at  the  remise  door,  while  the 

Robert  was  frequently  encountering  other 
attractiona,  whidl  formed  so  manv  under- 


if  his  1 


.  i  governed  hy  the  strictest 
rules  of  lirtua  and  modesty  (from  which 
he  never  deviated  till  he  reached  his  23rd 

be  the  case  while  he  remained  a  tanner,  as 
the  sEocting  of  the  ferm  required  a  sum  of 
money  lie  had  no  prolwbility  of  being 
master  ot  for  n  great  while.  He  be^an, 
therefore,  to  thint  of  trymg  some  other  iina 
otliib.  He  andl  hadfor  seieralyears  taken 
land  of  my  father  for  the  purpose  of  raising 
lloK  on  our  own  account.  In  the  course 
of  selling  It,  Eoberl  began  to  thmk  of  turning 
flai-dreaser,  both  as  being  euitable  to  h" 
grond  view  ot  settling  in  life,  and  as  subat 
vient  to  the  flax  raising.  Ha  according  , 
wrought  at  the  bnsineas  of  a  Sax-dtessec  in 
Irvine  tor  six  months,  but  abandoned  it  at 
that  period,  as  neither  agreeing  with  hia 
health  nor  inclination.  In  Irvine  he  had 
contracted  some  aoqoaintsnce  of  a  freer 
manner  ot  tliioking  and  liiing  than  he  had 
been  used  to,  whose  sodety  prepared  him 
for  overleaping  the  bounds  of  rigid  virtue 
which  had  hitherto  restrained  him.  To- 
wards the  end  of  the  period  under  review 
(m  Ilia  iieth  year),and  soon  after  his  other's 
death,  he  was  furnished  with  the  subject 
of  his  epistle  to  John  Eankin,  During 
this  period  also  he  became  a  freemason, 
wliioh  was  his  first  introduction  to  the  hfe 
of  a  boon  companion.    Ye^  uotwithstand* 


ohis 
ibser. 
tdingly 


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EOE^S  AT  MOSSGIEL. 

bu  bestowed  on  Scotch  drink  (which  seems 
to   have  misled  his  histonlma),  I  do  oot 
tecollect,  during  thcEe  seven  yesn,  nor  till 
to*«\Is  the  end  of  his  commencing  author 
(when  his  gronii^  celehrit;  occasioned  his 
bdng  often    in    eompany),   to    have  ever 

fore,  between  them,  that  they 

private    marriage;    that   he  s 
Jamaica  to  jmsk  hfi  fortitw; 
should  remaui  with  bw  father 
please  Providence  to  put  the  m 
porting  a  family  in  his  power." 

intoxicated ; 
pven  to  drinkii^.    A  stronger  proof  of  the 
seneral  soliriety  of   his  coodiieC  need  not 

Dating  the  whole  of  the  time  »e  lived  in 
the  farm  of  Loclilea  with  my  father,  he 
allowed  my  brother  and  me  such  wages  for 
OUT  labour  as  he  gave  to  other  iEibaur. 
en,  as  a  part  of  which,  every  article  of 
our  clothing  manufactured  in  the  family, 
was  t^uhirly  accounted  for.  When  my 
&tb«'«  affairs  drew  near  a  crisis,  Robert 
and  I  took  the  farm  of  Mossgicl,  consisting  j 
of  118  acres,  at  the  rent  of  £1^0  per  annum  ■ 
(the  £irm  on  which  I  Kve  at  present),  from  - 
Mr,  Gavin  Hamilton,  as  an  asylam  ^r  the 
family  in  case  of  the  worst.  It  was  stocked 
by  the  property  and  individual  savings  of 
the  whole  fimilj,  and  was  a  joint  concern 
amoi^  ns.  (29)  Ever;  member  of  the  femily 
was  aUowedotciinary  wsgesftir  the  kbourbe 
performed  on  the  farm.  (26)     My  brother's 

annum  each.  And  daring  the  whole  tune 
this  ihmily  concern  la^ie  I  which  w  as  for 
four  years,  as  well  as  dunnj  the  freced  ng 
period  at  I/ichiea,  his  expen«es  never  n 
any  one  vear  eiceetled  h  s  slender  come  j 
3d  with  the  keepmg  of  | 

e  family  accounts,  it  is  not  po  s  ble  that 
there  can  be  any  iai)acv  n  this  statement 
in  my  brother's  fiivom,  II  s  temperance  ai  d 
fru!»lity  weifl  every  thing  that  could  be 
wished." 

"  The  &rm  of  Mossgiel  lies  very  high,  and 
mostly  on  a  cold  wet  bottom.  The  drsl 
four  years  that  we  were  on  the  farm  were 
very  frosty,  and  the  spring  was  very  lale. 


As  I  ■ 


!  very  u 


Scofitsble ;  and,  notwithstondii^  our  utmost 
iligence  and  economy,  we  found  ourselves 
obliged  io  give  up  onr  bargain,  with  tlie  loss 
of  a  considerable  part  of  our  origin^  stock. 
It  was  during  these  four  years  that  Robert 
formed  his  connexion  with  Jean  Armour, 
afterwards  Mrs,  Ennis,  Tliis  coimeiion 
eeuld  no  har/er  be  concmlcd  about  the  time 
we  came  to  a  final  Aetenniuatimi  to  quit 
the  farm.  Robert  durst  not  engage  with 
a  family  in  his  poor  unsettled  slate,  but  was 
anidous   to   shield   his    partner,  by  every 


and  fainted  away.  The  mairiage  did  not 
appear  to  him  to  make  the  matter  better. 
A  husband  in  Jamaica  appeared  to  him 
and  his  wife  Kttle  better  tlian  none,  and 
an  etfectiial  bar  to  any  other  ptOBpecta  of 
a  settlement  in  Ufe  that  th«r  daughter 
might  have.  They  therefore  expressed  a 
wish  to  her,  that  the  written  pajicts  which 
iccted  the  marrioge  should  he  cancelled, 

her  mehuichoty  state,  she  felt  the  deepest 
remorse  at  having  brought  such  heavy  afflic- 
tion on  parents  Uiat  loved  her  so  tcnJerlyj 
and  subinitiBd  to  their  entreaties.  Their 
wish  WHS  mentioned  to  Robert,  He  felt 
the  deepest  anguish  of  mind.  He  offered 
to  stay  at  home  and  provide  for  his  wife  and 
famUy  in  the  best  manner  that  his  daily 
labours  couVd  provide  for  them,  that  being 
the  only  means  in  bis  power,  Even  this 
ofier  they  did  not  approve  of;  tot  hiinUue 
as  Miss  Armour's  nation  was,  and  though 
great  her  imiirudence  hnd  been,  she  stiU,  in 
"  eyes  of  her  partial  parents,  might  look 
L  better  connection  than  that  ^ith  toy 
friendless  and  unhappy  brother,  at  that  tima 
without  house  or  biding-phice.  Robert  at 
length  cousenled  to  tlieir  wishes;  but  his 
feelinga  on  tills  occasion  were  of  the  most 
distracting  nature ;  and  the  impression 
of  sorrow  was  not  dtaced,  till  by  a  regular 
marriage  they  were  indissolubly  uuitett,  la 
the  stattiofmind  which  this  separation  pnv 
diiced,  iie  wished  to  leave  the  country  as 
"■'-    -    '        reed  wiih    Dr. 


of  their  imprud^ice.    It  was  agreed,  there. 


Douglas  tKF  go  out  to  Ja 
overseer,  or,  as  I  believe  it  is  called,  a  book- 
keeper on  his  estate.  As  he  had  not  suBi- 
deut  money  to  pay  his  passage,  and  the 
vessel  in  which  I>r.  Douglas  was  to  procure 
a  passage  for  him  was  not  espected  to  s^ 
for  some  time,  Mr.  Hamilton  advised  him  to 
pnblisii  his  poems  in  the  mean  time  by  sub- 
scription, as  a  likely  way  of  getting  a  httle 
money,  to  provide  huu  more  liberally  in 
necessaries  for  Junaica.     Agrcably  to  this 

dlately,  and  the  printing  was  commenced  at 
Kilmarnock,  bis  prepuadous  going  on  at  the- 


Ho,t,db,  Google 


LIFE  OF  EraiKS. 


lame  time  for  his  Toyog*.  (27)  Tho  recep- 
tion, Uowever.  which  his  poems  mel  wilh  in 
the  wothl,  and  the  friends  they  procured 
him,  made  him  change  his  resolution  of 
going  to  Jamaica^  and  lie  aas  ndvised  to  go 
to  Edinbnrgh  to  publish  a  second  edition. 
On  his  relimi,  in  happier  drcuMstflnces,  he 
renewed  his  comieciioB  with  Mrs.  Bums, 


Tims,  madam,  liaie  T  endeavouted  to 
give  yon  a  simple  narrative  of  the  kading 

Tije  remaining  part  he  spent  iu  Edinhurgh, 
or  in  Dumtnes-siiire,  and  its  inddenta  are  as 
well  known  to  you  as  Co  me.  Uia  genius 
having  procured  him  your  patronage  and 
friendship,  this  gave  rise  to  the  correspond- 
ence hetneen  you,  in  wliich,  1  believe,  his 
sentunenla  were  delivered  with  Che  most 
reapectfid,  but  moat  unreserved  eouMence, 
and  whiii  only  terminated  with  the  last 
days  of  lua  life." 

This  narmtiie  of  Gilbert  Bums  may  serve 
Sa  a  commentary  oa  the  preceding  sketch 
of  our  poet's  life  by  himself.  It  will  be 
leen  that  the  distrsction  of  mind  which  he 

hi  which  he  had  involved  his  fiiture  wife. 
The  whole  eircumstimces  attenduig  this 
conneiLion  are  certainly  of  a  leiy  singular 

■     m 

going  Hi 

fiither,  who  was  cectunly  a  man  of  uncoi 
moa  talents,  thongh  it  does  noc  appear  tb 
he  possessed  any  portion  of  that  vis 
imagination  for  which  the  subject  of  th 
...   ...^..   |jj]|gj_     111  pr   -  ■" 


e  13,  it 

an  unaccountable  anUpathy  to  daodng- 
Bchools,  and  that  his  attending  one  of  these 
brought  on  him  his  displeasure  and  even 
dislike.  On  this  observation  Gilbert  has 
made  the  following  remark,  which  seems 
entitled  to  implicit  credit : — '*  1  wonder  how 
Itobert  coidd  attrilmte  Co  oiu'  fiither  that 
..lasting  lesennoeut  of  his  going  lo  a  danc- 
ing-BCliool  agauist  his  will,  of  which  he  was 
incopable.  i  believe  the  truth  was,  that  he, 
about  this  time,  b^an  to  see  the  dangerous 
impetuosity  of  my  oroCher^s  passions,  as  well 
*a  his  not  being  amenable  to  counsel,  which 
often  irritated  my  father,  and  which  he 
would  natundly  think  a  dancing-school  H-as 
not  likely  to  correct.  But  he  was  proud  of 
B^^>ert's  genius,  which  he  bestowed  more 
dpeoae  in  col^vating  than  on  the  rest  of 
the  fiunily,  in  the  instances  of  seniUnj;  him 


to  Ayr  and  Knkoswald  schools;  and  hs  was 
greatly  delighted  with  his  wariaCh  of  heart 
and  his  conversational  powers.  He  had, 
■    *     *  ■'    ■  dislike  of  dancing-schools  which 


BoherC 


during  Eobett's  first  month  of  attendance, 
that  he  allowed  all  the  rest  of  the  family  that 
were  Jit  for  it  Co  accompany  him  during 
the  second  month.  Robert  eicelled  m 
dancing,  and  was  £o<  some  time  disiracleilly 
fond  of  it." 

"  in  the  orimnal  letters  to  Dt.  Moore,  our 
poet  described  his  ancestors  as  "  renting 
lands  of  the  iiolile  Keiths  of  Marischal,  and 
heviug  had  the  honour  of  sharing  their 
fete."  "  I  do  not,"  continnea  he,  "  use  the 
word  honour  with  any  reference  to  pohtical 
prmdplea ;  loynl  and  dUtogiU,  1  take  to  be 
merely  relieve  terms,  in  that  ancient  and 
formidable  court,  known  iu  this  country 
by  the  name  of  Club-law,  where  the  tight 


it  threw  my  lather  on  the  world  at  large," 

Thb  paragraph  has  been  omitted  in  print- 
ing Che  lecier,  ac  the  desire  of  Gilbert  Burns; 


the  Eari  Marischal  forfeited  bis  title  and 
estate  iu  1715,  before  my  tather  was  bom ; 
and,  among  a  collection  of  parish-certilicales 
in  his  posession,  1  have  read  one,  stating 
that  the  bearer  liad  no  concern  in  the  late 
icicJeed  rebellion"  On  the  information  of  one, 
who  knew  William  Butnes  soon  after  he 
arrived  in  the  country  of  Ayr,  it  may  be 
mentioned,  that  a  report  did  prevail  that  he 
had  taken  Che  Held  wich  the  young  Cheva- 
lier— a  report  which  the  certificate  mentioned 
by  hia  son  was,  perhaps,  inteuded  to  counter- 
act. Strangers  from  the  north,  in  the  low 
country  of  Scotland,  wore  in  those  days  liable 
to  suspicions  of  havmg  been,  in  the 
familiar  phrase  of  the  country,  "Out  ia 
the  forty-five"  (1745),  especially  when  they 
had  any  stateness  or  reserve  about  them, 
as  was  the  case  with  William  Sumea.     It 

would  cherish  the  belief  of  bis  father's  hav- 
ing been  engaged  in  Che  daring  enterprise 


Ho,t,db,  Google 


THE  OaiGINAL  OP  THE  COrTER'3  SATURDAY  NIGHT. 

rf  Prince  Charlfs  Ed\.„^     .^  5,^„^„^„        --   -  .- - -- 

Mtachment,  tlie  heroic  valour,  and  the  final  """  guiltieas  Utood  Sol  euLity  « 

nriafortuBea  of  the  adherents  of  the  house       w._?  .  ?'  .. 
of  Stuart,  touched  with  sympathy  hia  youth- 
ful and  ardent  mind,  and  influenced    his 
Dri^nal  political  opinions.  (29) 
I'he  fiiihet  of  out  poet  ia  descrihed  by 


Ecnnty  locks  on  his  head  w 


1  Erey.  He 
nd,  and,  a9 
is  U9n^  amon^  the  Scottish  peasantry,  a 
^od  deal  conversant  in  speculative  theology. 
Tliere  is,  in  Gilbett's  iianda,  a  little  maniMl 
of  r^^ous  belief,  in  the  form  of  a  dialt^e 
between  &  father  and  his  son,  composed 
by  him  for  the  use  of  his  children,  in 
which  the  benevolence  of  his  bean  seema  to 
have  led  him  to  soften  the  rigid  Call 


proacbing  to  Arminianism.  1 
devout  man,  and  in  the  practice 
hia  family  together  to  join  in  pra 
known  that  the  foUowing  enquis 
in  the  Cotter's  Saiurday  Night, 


nething  ap- 

ot  callii^ 
«er.  It  ia 
te  picture. 


eertul  snpjier  dmc,  with  « 
ound  the  ingle  (3D\  (brm  a 


And'Let  ni 


,.a= 


their  aittcss  notca  in  simple 

'I&iy  tune  their  hearts,  hy  far  Uie  noblest 
PetllHps  Duadte'l  (33)  wild  warbling  mea. 

Ornlalntive'  Jir-n>m{M\  worthy  ot "the 
Or  niAile  £lgin  [SSj  beela  [30)  the  heavenly 

The  sweeteflt  fiit  of  Scotia's  holy  lays ; 

Compared  with  these  Italum  trills  ai-e  tamet 

The  tickled  ears  no  heart-felt  raplares 

No  onison   have  Ihey  wilh    our  Creator's 
The  priest-lilLO  father  reads  the  sacred  page, 

How  Abrant  was  the  friend  of  t5od  on  hIgS: 
Or  Moses  bade  eternal  welfare  wage 

Ot  how  the  royal  barS  Aid  groaning  lie.'rire; 
Beneath  the  stroke  otlfciven'a  avenging 
Or  Job's  pathetic  plaint,  and  wailing  ciy ; 

Or  other  ho^  aeers  that  tune  the  eacred  lyn. 


)lone  In  Patmoshaninhed, 
sun  a  mighty  ai^jel  stand, 
It  Dabylon's  domu  pronounced, 

Qg  down  to  beaven'a  eternal 


«    springs   exulting  oi 
It  tllua  they  all  shall  n 


Bat,c 


tawithgr. 


_ .  .  family  so  interestmiEr  as  that  which 
inhabited  the  cottage  of 'William  Bumes,Dnd 
particularly  of  the  father  of  tlie  family,  the 
reader  will  perhaps  he  willing  to  listen  to 
some  farther  account.  Wliat  follows  is  gii«a 
by  one  already  mentioned  with  bo  much 
honour  in  the  narrative  of  Gilbert  Buma, 
Mr.  Murdoch,  the  preceptor  of  our  poet, 
who,  in  a  letter  to  Joseph  Cooper  Walker, 
Esq.,  of  Dublin,  author  of  the  Historical 
Memoirs  of  the  Irish  Bards,  and  ot  the  His- 
torical Memoir  of  the  Italian  Tragedy,  thna 
expresses  himself ; — 

"  SiB.— I  was  lately  favoured  with  a  leltre 
from  our  worthy  friend,  the  Rev.  Wm. 
Adair,  in  which  he  requested  me  to  com- 
municate to  you  whatever  particulars  I 
could  recollect  coHcetiiing  Robert  Bums, 
the  Ayrshire  poet.  My  business  being  at 
present  multuarioua  and  harassing,  my 
attention  is  consequently  so  much  ^lidc^ 
and  I  am  so  httie  in  the  ha3>it  of  express- 
ing my  thoughts  on  paper,  that  at  this 
distance  of  time  I  can  give  hut  a  very  im- 
perfect sketcli  of  the  early  part  of  the  lua 
of   that  extraordinary  genius,  with  which 


Willii 


irues,  the  father  of  the  poet. 


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LIFE   OP   BUENS. 


Mr  Crawf   d     Dim     d         w 
emplayed  gard  n        nd 

ProTost  Ferguson  of  Uoonholm, 
of  Allowaj,  whicli  ia  now  nniied  with  that 
of  Ayv,  Id  this  pariah,  on  the  roadside,  a 
Scotch  mile  and  a  half  from  the  town  of  A;r, 
end  half  a  mile  from  the  bridge  of  Doon, 
Willian  Bumes  took  a  piece  of  land,  consist- 
ing of  about  seven  acres ;  part  of  wliich  he 
lam  out  m  garden  ground,  and  part  of 
nhich  he  kepC  to  gnue  s  cow,  &c.,  stilt 
coDtinning  in  the  employ  of  iSrovost  Fei- 
ffuaon-  Upon  this  Httlo  farm  was  erected 
k  humhls  dwelling,  of  which  William  Bumea 
was  the  architect.  It  was,  with  the  excep- 
tion of  a  little  straw,  literally  a  tabernacle 
of  day.  In  this  mean  cotta^  of  which 
I  myself  was  at  times  an  inhabitant,  1 
really  believe  there  dwdt  a  larger  portion 
of  content  than  in  any  palace  in  Europe. 
The  Cotter's  Saturday  Night  will  give  aoma 
idea  of  tlie  temper  and  uumnera  that  pre> 
vailed  there." 

"In  1765,  about  the  middle  of  March, 
Mr.  W.  Bumes  came  to  Ajt,  and  sent  to 
th«  school  whers  I  was  improving  in  writ- 
ii^,  under  my  good  friend  Mr.  Kobinaon, 
deBiriog  that  I  would  come  and  apeak  to 
him  at  a  certain  inn,  and  bring  my  writing 
book  with  me.  Tliis  waa  immediately  corn- 
he  wHi  pleaaed  witli  it — you  w^  r^d^ 
allow  he  waj  not  diflleuli— and   '  ' ' 


iivedve 


that  he  hud  n 
mation  of  Mr,  Tem 
En^h  school,  CO 
in  English,  and 


le  master  of  the 
truing  my  improvement 
his  method  of  teach- 
^  jf  May  following,  I  was 

engaged  by  Mr.  Bumea,  and  four  of  his 
neighhoura,  to  teach,  and  accordingly  began 
to  teach  the  school  at  Alloway,  which  waa 
situated  a  lea  yatda  from  the  aigillaceous 
fehric  above-mentioned.  My  five  employers 
midertook  to  hoard  me  by  turns,  and  to 
make  up  a  certain  aakry,  at  the  ^  of  the 
year,  provided  my  quarterly  payments  from 
the  different  pupils  did  not  amount  to  that 

"My  ppil,  Robert  Bums,  was  then  be- 
tween six  aiid  seven  years  of  age ;  his 
preceptor  about  eighteeiL  Robert,  and  hia 
younger  brother,  Gilbert,  bad  been  grounded 

under  my  care.  They  both  made  a  rapid 
progress  in  reading,  and  a  tolerable  progress 
in  aiitiug.    In  reading,  dividing  words  into  . 


syllables  byrule,  spelling  withoutbook,paa»- 
ing  sentence,  &c.,  Kohcrt  and  Gilbert 
were  generally  at  tlie  upper  end  of  the  class, 
_ —  _.!_._  _ J  ^.^^^  ij^yg  by  far  ■'---- 


i.  Thel 


only  used 


the  SpeUing  Book,-tl 
New  Testament,  the  Bible,  Mason's  Collec- 
tion of  Prose  and  Verse,  and  Fisher's 
Enghsh  Grammar.  Tbey  committed  to 
memory  the  hymns,  and  other  poems  of 
that  collection,  with  uncommon  &ciUty. 
This  fiicihty  was  parUy  owing  to  the  method 
puraued  by  their  ^her  and  me  in  msCmct- 
ing  (hem.  wliich  waa,  to  make  them  Iho- 
roi^hly  aoqmiinLed  with  the  meaning  of 
every  word  in  each  sentcucB  that  waa 
he  committed  to  memory.  By  the  bye,  thia 
may  bs  easier  doue,  and  at  an  earlier 
period,  than  is  gencndly  thought.  Aa  soon 
as  they  were  capable  of  it,  1  taught  th«n 
to  turu  verse  into  its  natural  prose  order ; 
aometunes  to  substitute  aynonymous  es- 
pressions  for  poetical  words,  and  to  supply 
all  the  ellipses.  These,  you  know,  are  the 
means  of  knowing  that  the  pupil  underslanda 
hia  author.  Theae  are  excellent  helps  to  the 
arrangement  of  words  in  sentences,  aa  well 
»a  to  a  variety  of  expression." 

"  GiDwrt  alwaya  ajJpeared  to  me  to  poa. 
aess  a  more  livdy  imagination,  and  to  bfl 
more  of  the  wit,  than  Kobert.  I  attempted 
to  teach  them  a  hllle  church-music.  Here 
they  were  left  fer  behind  by  all  the  rest 
of  the  school.  Robert's  ear,  in  particular, 
waa  remarkably  dull,  and  his  voice  un. 
tunable.  It  was  long  before  1  could  get 
them  to  distinguish  one  tune  from  another. 
Robert's  couuienance  waa  generally  grave, 
aud  expressive  of  a  serions,  contemplative 
and  thoughtful  mind.  Gilbert's  face  said, 
Mirlh,  Willi  thee  I  mean  la  lice ;  and  cer- 
tanly,  if  any  peraon  who  knew  the  two  hoya 
had  bc«i  asked  which  of  them  was  the 
most  likely  to  court  the  muses,  he  would 
surely  never  have  gueaaed  that  Robert  had 
a  pronensity  of  that  kind." 

'  ;  year  1767,  Mr.  Bnmea  iiuitted 

edificf^  and  took  poasesaion  of  a 

imt  Oliphaut),  of  Ids  own  improv- 

in  the  service  of  Provost  Ferg* 

1  firm  being  at    a  considerable 

rom  the  sciiool,  the  boys  could 

1  re^lariy ;    and  some  changes 

taking  phce  among  the  other  aupportras  of 

■',e  school,  I  left  it,  having  coniinaed  to 

nduct  it  for  nearly  two  years  and  a  half." 

•;ln  the  year   1773,  1  was  appointed 


"In  tl 


Hosted  by  Google 


lURSS  STUDII3  FEENCH. 


23 


boBrd  nnd  lodge  with  me,  for  the  puipose  of 
revising  Eogliah    gtammir,    &c,,    tliat  he ' 

licatheis  and  sbtecs  at  liome.  He  waa  now 
vich  me  day  and  uigliC,  m  Acheol,  at  all 
nusla,  nnd  iii  oil  my  vtika.  At  tiie  end  of 
one  neek,  I  told  him.  that,  as  he  wtu  nov  . 
pretty  much  maalec  of  the  parts  of  speech, 
xc,  I  should  hke  to  teach  him  something 
of  Freuidi  prominciation ;  that  when  he 
■honld  meet  with  the  name  of  a  IVencti 
town,  ship  officer,  oi  the  hke,  ui  the  news- 
papers, he  might  be  able  to  pronounce  it 
sometliing  like  a  £Vench  word'  Rohci't  was 
glad  to  hear  this  proposal,  and  immedi- 
ately we   attacked  the  French  with  good 

"No*  there  was  little 
but   the   declension   of  nouns,  the   con- 
jngatioQ  of    verbs,   &e.      When    walking 


al>iays  rational  information  in  new,  had 
still  some  questions  to  propose  to  my 
more  leani«d  friends,  npon  moral  or  natural 
philosophy,  or  soine  such  uiteresting  aubjeet. 
Mrs.  Bumes,  too,  was  of  the  parly  as  much 


her 


it  mea]s,  I    was    con- 

V  presented  tliemselves,  in 
J  icacii ;  HO  uiat  he  was  hourly  layuig  in 
a  ttock  of  words,  and  aometimea  little 
nhrsses.  In  short,  he  took  sncb  pieaaure  in 
learning,  and  I  in  teiicliing,  that  it  is 
dilBcult  to  say  nhidi  of  the  two  vras  most 
seaious  in  the  business ;  mi3  about  the  end  of 
the  second  week  ofour  study  of  ths  French, 
ve  began  to  read  a  little  of  the  Adventures 
of  Telbmaobus,  in  Fenelon's  own  oords." 

"But  now  the  plains  of  Mount  Oiipbant 
began  to  irhiten,  and  Bobert  was  sum- 
moned to  relinquish  the  pleasing  scenes  that 
surround  the  ^tto  of  Caiypso,  and,  armed 
with  a  sickle,  to  seek  glory  by  signalisuig 
himself  m  the  field  of  Ceres— and  so  he 
did;  for,  althongh  but  about  fifteen,  I  was 
fold  that  he  performed  the  work  of  «  man." 

"  Thus  was  I  deprived  of  my  very  apt  pupil, 
and  consequently  agreeable  companion,  at 
the  end  of  tliree  weeks,  one  of  which  was 
apeiit  entirely  in  the  study  of  Ennliah,  and 
Uie  other  tao  chiefly  ia  that  of  Piendi. 
1  did  not,  however,  lose  sight  of  him,  hut 

when  I  had  my  half  holiday;  and  very 
often  went,  accompanied  with  one  or  two 
persons  more  intelligent  than  myself,  that 
jrood  Williaju  Bumea  might  enjoy  a  mental 


_ n,  wharau  Bolid  reasoning, 

ble  remark,  and  a  moderate  seasoning  of 
Jocularity,  were  so  nicely  blended,  as  to 
render  it  palatable  to  all  parties.  Robert 
had  a  hundred  questions  to  ask  me  about 
the  Freni^,  &c ;  and  the  fiithec,  who  hul 


lut  atill  the  house  aflkirs  would  dian 
iTlich  evCT  as  she  couU  with  hasfe 
Jevonr  up  tteir  discourse' — 
of  hi 

::s  .i 

my  body  else.  When  under  the  neces- 
I  sity  of  being  absent  wliile  he  was  apeak- 
!  uig,  she  seemed  to  regret,  aa  a  real  loss,  that 
ahe  had  missed  whii^  the  good  nun  had 
said.  This  worthy  woman,  Agnea  Brow 
had  the  most  thorough  esteem  for  her  hus- 
band of  any  woman  I  ever  knew.  I  aaa 
by  no  means  wonder  that  she  highly 
esteemed  him  ;  for  I  myself  have  always 
considered  WilliEuu  Bumes  as  by  far  the 
best  of  the  human  race  that  ever  I  bad 
the  pleasure  of  bang  acquainted  with— 
and  many  a  worthy  character  I  have  known. 
I  on  clieerfully  join  with  Robert  ia 
hue  of  his  epitaph  (borrowed  Irom  Gold- 
smith), 

■  A.ad  er'n  bis  failhiss  lesn'd  to  virtue'i 
"l!e  was  an  eicellent  husband,  if 
judge  from  his  assiduous  attention  to  tni 
ease  and  comfort  of  his  worthy  partner 
and  from  her  affectionate  bcbiTionr  t^ 
him,  as  veil  as  ber  unwearied  attention  t> 
the  duties  of  a  mother." 

"llewas  a  tender  and  affectionate  fiither 
he  took  pleasure  in  leading  his  children  ii 
the  path  of  virtue,  not  in  driving  them,  a! 
—   ...    i-  y^  petfotmance 


le   patents  do,  to  the  petfotmance  > 
ies  to  which  they  themaelvea  are  avers 
"   rare  to  find  feult  but  very  seldon  , 
^fore,  when  he  did  rehuke,  he  was 


A  look  of  disapprobation  was  lelt ;  a  r^ 
proof  was  severely  so ;  and  a  strip  nidi 
the  iBBi,  even  on  the  skirt  of  the  coat, 
gave  heart-felt  pun,  produced  a  loud  lamen- 


tovighifo 


ining  tl 


and  goodwill  of  those  Utat  were  bbourers 
under  him.  1  think  I  never  saw  him  angry 
hut  twice ;  the  one  time,  it  was  with  the 
foreman  of  the  band,  for  not  reaping  the 
Held  as  he  was  desired ;  and  the  otiicr 
time,  it  was  with  an  old  man,  for  uaii^ 
smutty  inuendoea  and  doable  enlendrei. 
,  Were  every  foul-mouUied  old  man  to  recdve 


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inferiors,  he  was  equally  incapable  of  that 
paasiv^  pitiful,  paltry  spint,  tiiat  induces 
•ome  people  to  keep  booing  aiid  booing  in  the 
presence  of  a  great  man.  Sle  alnays  treated 
Sjiperiors  with  a  becoming  respect ;  hut  he 
never  gave  the  smallest  encoutagement  to 
■ristocratical  urogauce.  Bui  1  must  not 
prefend  to  give  you  a  description  of  eli  the 
manly  qualities,  the  raikmal  and  Christian 
Yinnes,  of  the  venerable  William  Burnes. 
Time  would  fiiil  me,  1  sliall  only  iM 
that  he  carefully  practised  every  known 
duty,  and  avoided  every  thing  that  was 
criminal ;  or,  in  the  ^Kistle'a  words,  llifeia 
4id  he  exerciie  humcif,  in  Udng  a  life  void 
af  offeaoe  totoaida  bod  and  toimrda  bub. 
Oh  for  a  MTO'ld  of  loea  of  audv  diinoatiotis  1 
We  should  then  have  no  wars.  1  have  often 
Viahed,  foe  tlie  good  of  mankind,  that  it 
vere  as  custouury  to  honour  end  perpetuate 
the  meinoty  uf  those  who  eicel  ui  moral 
rxtitade  as  it  is  to  extol  what  are  called 
heruie  actions ;  then  woiild  the  mausoleum 
of  the  friend  of  my  youth  overtop  and 
■uipass  most  of  the  monuments  1  see  in 
Westminaiet  Abbey." 

"Although  I  cannot  dojnatice  tothecha- 
tOEter  of  this  worthy  man,  yet  yon  will 
perceive,  from  tliese  few  particutats,  what 
kind  of  pecson  had  the  pciuuipal  hand  in  the 


F  BtTRKS. 

'  but  it  is  mislaid.    Hease  remember  me,  iu 
'  the  beat  manner,  to  my  worthy  friend  Mr. 
1  Adur,  vheo  yoa  see  him,  or  write  to  him." 
I      "Hart  Strtet,  Bloomibarg  Square, 
I  London,  Feb.  32, 1798." 


I  poet.  He 
En^lsh  language  with  more  prof 
with  teapect  la  &tion  and  ptu 

advanti^.      This  had  a  very  gi>od  elfect 
tai  the  boys,  vho  began  to  talk,  and  reai 


recollect  any  of  then:  ooiitempo- 


1  do  ni 

nriea,  at  my  littU 

made  any  great  degree  as  liter&ry 

tin,  encept  Dr.  TeauwC,  vho  was  eliaplain 

to  Colonel  Fullarton'a  reginLent,  and     ' 


e  that 


oanBlJve  of  Gilbert  Boms  was 
I  time  when  be  was  ignorant  of 
e  of  the  preceding  narrative  of 
so  this  letter  of  Mr.  Murdocji 
H-ithoiLt  bis  having  any  know. 
^  either  of  ids  pupiU  had  beea 

iployed  on  the  same  subject.  The  tbreo 
ations  serve,  thetebre,  not  merely  to 
illustrate,  but  to  autheotiiate  each  other. 
Though  the  iiiformaticm  they  convey  might 
have  been  presented  witlun  a  shorter  com- 
pass, by  reducing  the  whole  into  one 
unbroken  narrative,  it  la  scarcely  to  he 
doubted,  that  the  inteUigcnt  reader  wdl  be 
gratilied  by  a  sight  of  these  originzd 


o  Kirk- 


[The  poet  mentions  in  his  oi 


Oswald  parish,  aud  bis  muighng  ii 
of  dissipation  there  amongst  tlie  Carrick 
smugglers.  The  tiillowiug  additional  par. 
ticuhu's  respecting  this  penod  of  his  life  will 
probably  he  interesting!  they  were  col- 
lected by  the  present  ^tor,  but  ap^ieateil 
oiigiualiy  in  Ciaiabtrt  EdiiAuTsk  Josnuil. 

it  Burns  be  correct  in  atatuig  that  il  was 
bis  nineteenth  aununer  wliich  tve  spent  in 
Kirkoawald  parish,  the  date  of  bis  residence 
there  must  be  1777.  What  seems  to  have 
suggested  his  going  r«  Xirkoswald  school, 
was  the  eonnection  of  his  mother  with 
that  parish.  She  was  the  daughter  of 
Gilbert  Brown,  farmer  of  Crnigenton,  in 
this  parochial  division  of  Carrick,  in  wliich 
she  had  many  friends  atill  hving,  psir- 
ticularly  a  brother,  Samuel  Brown,  who 
resided,  in  the  miscellaneous  capai^ty  of 
fiurta-bbouter,  tiaheiman,  and  dealer  in  aool, 
at  the  ^rm-bouse  of  Ballochneil,  above  a 


now  in  the  East  Indies.     He  is  a  man  of 

mile  from  the  village  of  Kirkosw^d.    This 

genius  andlewniug;  yet  alfeble,  and  tree 

Brown,  though  not  tlie  6imier  or  guidman 
of   the  place,  was  a    person   held  to  ha 

"Mr.Bumes.inashort  time,  found  that 
be  had  overrated    Mount    Obphant,    and 

where  the  distinction  bet«-een  master  and 

that  he  could  not  rtaz  bis  numerous  bmily 

upon  it.    After  bemg  there  some  years,  he 

His  wife    was  the    sister    of  Niven,  the 

tenant;    and  he  lived  m  tlie  "chamber" 

bobon,  where,  1  believe,  Kobert  wrote  most 

or  better  portion  of   the  &rm-bonse,  but 

of  bis  poems." 

u'as  now  a  widower.  It  was  with  Brown 

"But  here,  sir,you  will  permit  me  to  pause. 

that  Bums  hved  during  his  attendance  at 

I  eau  tell  s<m  but  bttie  more  relative  to  our 

Kirtoswald  school,  wiJking  every  morning 

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HUGH  EODQER  THE  SCHOOLMASTER. 


Tha  district  into  which  tlie  young  poet  of 
Kyle  was  thus  thrown,  has  many  teRturea  of 
B,  rematkable  kind,  Thoii(;]i  situated  on  the 
shore  of  the  Krlh  of  Clyde,  whcte  steamers 
are  every  hour  to  be  seen  on  their  psssage 
between  enlightened  and  bnsy  dties,  it  is  to 
this  da;  the  seat  of  simple  anil  patrau-chal 
usages.  Its  land,  composed  of  bWk  ^een 
uplands,  partly  cultivated  and  partly  pas- 
toral, was,  at  the  time  alludjd  to,  oocupied 
by  a  generatjon  of  primitive  small  ^rmers, 
many  of  whom,  while  preserving  their  native 
simplicity,  had  superadded  to  it  some  of 
the  irregular  habits  arising  from  a  eoucem 
in  the  trade  of  introdunng  contraband 
goods  on  tiie  Carrict  coast.  (38)  Such 
deahngs  did  not  prevent  superstition  Irom 
flourishing  amongit  them  in  a  degree  of 
vigour  of  which  no  district  of  Scotland 
tio-.i'  presents  any  eiample.  Tlie  parish 
has  six  miles  of  sea  coast ;  and  tbe  vdlage. 
vbere  the  diurch  and  school  ere  situated,  b 
ia  a  sheltered  situatiou  about   >  couple 


The  p 
enjoyed  great  Ic 


li  adioohnaster,  Hugh  Roilger, 


and  geometry,  aiid  was  much 
employed  as  a  ptaciiial  land  surieyor.  On 
the  day  when  Bums  entered  at  the  schoo), 
aooti  er  youth,  a  little  younger  than  himself,  I 
Btso  entered.  This  ma  a  nalive  of  the  | 
ne^bbouting  town  of  Maybole,  who  having  , 
th^  completed  a  course  of  classical  study,  j 
H-as  now  sent  by  his  fother,  a  respectable  ' 
sUopkeepec,  to  acquire  arithmetic  and  men-  I 


implement  the  engagement  by  Creating  him 

youth,  accordmgly  nnited  to  regale  Rodger 
with  a  potafioii  of  ale,  at  a  public  honae  in 
the  Tillage,  kept  by  two  gentlewomanly  sort 
of  persons  named  Kennedy — Jean  and 
Amie  Kennedy — tlie  Bmner  of  whom  was 
destined  to  be  afterwards  married  to  im- 
mortal verse,  under  the  anpellation  of 
Kirklon  Jean,  Hud  whose 


lany  him,  and  stay  tin  it  was  time  ft 
!1iere  was  also  an  interval    betwet 


school,  which  the  tv  , 
t<^ther.  Instead  of  amusing  themselv 
with  ball  or  any  other  sport,  like  the  test  of 
the  scholwa,  they  would  take  a  walk  by 
themselves  in  the  outskirts  of  the  village 
and  converse  on  subjects  calculated  to  im- 
prove their  minda.  By  and  bye,  they  m 
upon  a  plan  of  holding  disputations  or  ajgi> 
ments  on  speculatiTe  questions,  one  tal^ig 
one  side,  and  the  odier  the  other,  without 
much  regard  to  their  respective  opinions  on 
the  point,  whal«Tf  [  it  might  be,  the  wbda 
object  being  to  sharpen  1^lar  inleQects. 
They  aslfed  several  of  their  companions  to 
come  and  take  a  side  in  these  debates,  but 
not  one  would  do  so ;  they  only  laughed  at 
the  young  philosophers.  The  matter  at 
length  reached  the  ears  of  the  master,  who, 
however  skilled  in  matbemaljcs,  possessed 
but  a  narrow  understanding  and  little  gene- 
ral knowledge.    With  all  the  bigotry  of  die 


o  birth  c 


■ove  the  common,  was  always  called 
"the  Leddies'  House."  From  that  time, 
Bums  and  the  Maybole  youth  became 
intimate  ftiends,  insomuch,  that,  durmg  this 
sumraer,  neither  had  any  companion  with 
whom  he  was  more  frequently  in  company 
than  with  the  other.  Burns  was  only  at  the 
village  during  school  hours ;  but  when  his 
friend  WiUie  returned  to  the  paternal  dome 
on  Saturday  nights,  the  poet  would  accom- 


gatory  employment  of  his  pupils  wa 
of  absurdity,  aiidhereHolvedto  corr 
in  it.    One  day,  therefore,  when  tl 

was  fully  met,  and  in  the  midst  of  it 

business,  he  went  up  to  the  desk  where 
Burns  and  Willie  were  utting  opposite  to 

terms  to  what  he  1^  heard  of  them.  Hbef 
bad  become  great  debaters,  he  understood, 
and  conceived  themselves  fit  to  settle  affain 
of  importance,  which  wiser  heads  usually  let 
alone.  He  hoped  thdr  disputations  would 
not  ultimately  become  quarrels,  and  that 
they  would  never  think  of  comin"  from 
words  to  blows ;  and  so  forth.  The  Jokes  of 
schoolmastcfs  dways  succeed  amongst  the 
boys,  wlio  ate  t<>o  glad  to  find  tlie  awful 
man  in  any  thing  like  good  humour,  to 
question  either  the  moral  aim 
of  his  wit.  They  therefore,  i 
sion,  huted  the  master^s  remarks  with  bear^ 
peals  of  laughter.  Nettled  at  this,  Willie 
resolved  he  would  "  speak  up  "  to  Kodger ; 
but  first  he  ssked  Surns  in  a  whisper  if  he 
would  support  him,  which  Bums  promised 
tfl  do.    He  then  said  tliat  '     " 


r  the  point 


.  had 


id  he  had  given  offence ; 
intended.  And  indeed  he 
ipected  that  the  master  would  have 
'ather  pleased  to  know  of  their  endea- 


Ho,t,db,  Google 


LIFE  OF  BUEN3. 


Tiakal  d 


temptuously  asked  what  it  was  they  dispuled 
■tout.  Willie  replied,  that  geiietally  there 
woa  a  uen  suhject  every  day ;  that  h^  could 
not  recollect  ell  that  hod  come  under  their 
It  the  question  of  to-day  had 


-"Whether 
le  merchant  the  m 


likek 

ni 

His  innate  thirst  for  distino- 

and 

nifested 

n  these 

ortant  affairs 

Imtth 

lughhe 

t™» 

sed 

of  great  Mr« 

^■", 

wllaa 

donht  for  a  monieat  ahout  it.    "  Well,' 
Boms,  "if  yon  think  so,  1  will  be  gl^if  you 
take  any  side  you  please,  mid  alio 
take  the  other,  and  let  us  disonss  i 
the  school"  Bodgecniost  minisely  i 


answered 

By  a  pointed  advocacy  of  the  pretensions 
the  merfibaat,  and  soon  had  an  evident 
perioriiy    over    his  preceptor.    The  latter 
replied,  but  without  succeaa.    His  hand 
observed  to  shake;  then  his  voice  tremh 
uid  he  dissolved  the  house  in  a  stntt   ._ 
TCxation  pitiable  to  behold.  In  this  anecdote, 
w[io  ean  fail  to  read  a  pri^ioetication  of 
future  eminence  to  the  two  disputants?  Thi 
ooe  became  the  most  illustrious  poet  of  hii 
C'limtry ;  and  it  is  not  unwortl^  of  being 
mjntjotied  in  the  saine  sentence,  that  the 
Oiher  advanced,  through  a  career  of  success- 
ful industry  in  his  native  town,  to  the  pos- 
session of  a  large  estate  in  its  nei^kbourhood, 
-     -       I usually 


llie  coast  in  the  n^hbonrhood  of  Burns' 
residence  at  Ballochneil  presented  a  range  of 

destuied  to  confer  an  extraordinary  interest. 
At  the  lamk  of  Shanter,  on  a  slope  ovHlook*' 
ingthe  shore,  not  far  ftimTumbory  Castle, 
lived  Douglas  Graham,  a  stout  hearty  speci- 
men of  the  Carrick  farmer,  a  little  addicted 
to  smuggling,  but  nith^  a  worthy  and 
iqiright  member  of  society,  and  a  kind- 
naniJed  man.  He  had  a  wife  named  Helen 
MTag^rt,  who  was  unusually  addicted  to 
iiipecstitious  belief  and  fears.  The  altadiiig 
vhere  this  gi>od  couple  hved  is  noiv  no  more, 
for  tiie  farm  has  been  divided  for  the  in- 
crease of  two  others  in  its  ne^hbourhood ; 
but  genius  has  given  them  a  perennial  es- 
istence  in  the  tale  of  Tam  o'Shanter,  where 
their  characters  are  esa«ly  delineated  under 
the  respecljva  appellations  of  Tam  and 
Kate.  •     -     •     • 

At  Ballochneil,  Burns  engaged  biartily  in 
the  sports  of  leaping,  dancing,  wrestling, 
psliing  (throwing)  the  glone,  laii  Others  of 


ig  bed- 
fellow, John  Niven.  Obliged  at  last  to 
acknowledge  himself  beat  by  this  person  in 
bodily  warjare,  he  had  recourse  for  amends 
to  a  spiritual  mode  of  contention,  and  would 
engage  young  Niven  in  an  argumeiit  about 

he  invariably  floored  his  antagonist.    His 
satisfaction  on  these  occasions  is  said   to 

notkiug  sbwty  along  the  street  of  the  village 
hi  a  manner  customary  to  him,  with  his  eyea 
bent  on  the  gi'ound,  he  was  met  by  tlie 
Misses  Bi^gar,  the  daughters  of  the  parish 
pastor.  He  wotdd  have  passed  without 
noticing  them,  if  one  of  the  young  ladies 
had  not  called  him  by  name.  She  then 
rallied  him  on  his  inatlentmn  to  the  fair 
sen,  in  preferrii^  to  look  towards  the  uiani. 
mate  ^ound,  instead  of  seising  flie  oppor- 
tunity olForded  him  of  indulging  in  the 
most  uivaloable  privilege  of  man,  that  of 
beholding  and  conversing  with  the  ladies. 
"  MBdiim,"  said  he,  "  it  is  a  natural  and 
right  thing  for  man  to  contemplate  the 
ground,  fixini  whence  he  was  taken,  and  for 
■    look  upon  and  observe  man,  from 


1  taken."    This  > 


but  it 

There  is  a  great  fair  at  Kirbosu^d  in  the 
beginning  of  August — on  the  same  day,  we 
beSeve,  with  a  hke  fair  at  Kirttoswald  m 
Northumberland,  both  places  having  taken 
their  rise  from  the  piety  of  one  person, 
Oswald,  a  Soion  king  of  the  heptarchy, 
'hose  memory  is  probably  honoured  in 
lese  observances.  Ihiring  the  week  pre- 
ceding this  fair  m  the  year  1777,  Burns 
made  overtu]^  to  his  Maybole  triend, 
ir  Ihai  getting  up  a  dance,  on  the 
if  the  approachmg  festival,  in  one 
of  the  publie-houses  of  the  village,  and  in- 
viting tlieit  sweethearts  to  it.  WiUie  knew 
little  at  that  tune  of  dances  oi  sweethearts ; 
out  he  liked  Bums,  and  was  no  enemy  to 
imuscment.  He  therefore  consented,  and  it 
was  agreed  that  some  other  yoimg  men 
iboold  he  requested  to  join  in  the  nnder- 
tjildng.  The  dance  took  place,  as  designed, 
the  requisite  mUBLc  being  supplied  by  a 
hired  band ;  and  about  a  lEizcn  couples  par- 
toot  of  the  fun.  When  it  was  proposed  to 
part,  the  reckoning  was  called,  mid  found  to 


,  eighteei 


sed  that 


Hosted  by  Google 


BPENS  IN  LOVE  WITH  PEGGY  THOMSON. 


27 


flie  means  of  settling  (his  claim.  Burns, 
Hie  originatiw  of  the  scheme,  was  in  the 
poetical  condition  of  not  being  masler  of  a 
nngle  penny,  tbe  rest  were  in  the  like 
condition,  jl  eiLoept  one,  iphoae  resources 
amounted  to  a  groat,  end  Mnj-bol  a  Willie, 
who  poasessed  ahout  halT-a-crown.  The 
last  iu^Hdual,  nho  alone  boaaled  any 
worldly  wisdom  oc  eipetience,  took  it  npon 
him  to  ertricate  the  company  fi  om  its  diSi- 
culiiea.  By  virtue  of  a  candid  and  sensible 
narration  to  the  landlord,  he  induced  that 
individual  to  take  what  they  bad,  and  give 
credit  for  the  remainder.  The  payment  of 
the  debt  ia  not  the  worst  part  of  the  story. 
Beeing  no  chance  from  be^ng  ot  harrow- 
ing, Willie  resolved  to  gain  it,  if  possible, 
by  merchandise.  Observing  that  stationery 
irticlea  for  the  school  were  procured  at 
Eitkoawild  with  dilScolty,  be  supplied  him- 
self with  a  stock  from  his  fatber^s  warehouse 
at  Slaypole,  and 


paper  t( 


Hutage,  that  at  length  he  realised  a  suli 
It  amount  of  ptotit  to  bquidate  the  e 
:so  of  the  dance.  Bnms  and  he  th( 
It  in  triumph  to  the  inn,  and  not  on 

e  the  ktnd-beatled  host  a  bowl  of  ll: 


IVilli 


■,  took 


care  from  that  time  forth  1^  engage  in  no 
schemes  lox  conutry  dances  without  looking 
carefully  to  the  probable  state  of  the  pockets 
of  his  fellow  aiWenturers. 

Bums,  according  to  his  own  account 
eluded  hia  reaidence  at  KirtosUTdd 
blase  of  passion  for  a  fur  JileUe  who 
next  door  to  the  school.  At  this 
owuig  to  the  deatructton  of  tlie  pfopet 
school  of  Eirkoswald,  a  chamber  at  the  end 
of  the  old  church,  the  business  of  parochial 

on  tlie  ground  floor  of  a  house  in  the  miuu 
street  of  the  village,  opposite  tlie  church- 
yard. From  behmd  tiua  house,  as  fn 
behmd  each  of  its  neighbours  in  the  aai 
rov,  a  small  stripe  of  kail-yaid  {Argli 
kitchen  gardeu|  runs  back  abo"t  Sfty  yaru^ 
along  a  rapidly  ascending  alope.  When 
Bnm^  went  inta  the  particular  patch  behind 
the  school  to  take  the  aun's  altitude,  he  bad 
only  to  look  over  a  low  enclosure  to  see  the 
stuiilar  paJich  connected  with  the  next  house,  i 
Here,  it  aeems,  P^gy  Thomson,  the  | 
daughter  ot  the  rustic  occupant  of  that ' 
bouse,  K'as  walking  at  the  time,  though 
more  probably  engaged  in  the  business  of 
cutting  a  cabbage  tor  the  family  dinner, 
than  imitating  tlie  flower-gathering  Ptoaet- 
pine,  or  ber  prototype  Eve.    Ueuce  the 


bewildering  passion  ot  the  i)oet.  Peggj 
was  the  theme  of  his  "  Song  composed  ii 
August,"  beguming, 
•'  Now  westllo  winds  Bi 
Brli^  Autumn's  p 
She  afterwards  became  Mn.  Neilson,  and 
lived  to  a  good  age  in  the  town  of  Ayr, 
wberc  her  chiMren  still  reside. 

At  bis  departure  from  Kjrioswald,  he 
engaged  his  Maybole  friend  and  some  other 
lads  to  keep  up  a  coreespondence  with  him. 
His  object  in  doing  so,  aa  we  may  gather 
from  hia  own  narrative,  was  to  improve 
himself  in  composition.  "I  carried  tWa 
whim  so  ttar,"  says  he,  "that,  though  I  had 
not  three  farthinga'  worth  ot  bn«nesa  in  the 
world,  yet  almost  every  post  brought  me  as 
many  letters  as  if  I  had  been  a  bnud  plodd' 
ing  son  of  day-book  and  ledger.  To 
Willie,  in  partcular,  be  wrote  often,  and  in 
the  most  friend)y  and  confidential  terms. 
When  that  individual  was  commencing 
business  in  his  native  town,  tlie  poet  ad- 
dressed hitn  a  poetical  epistle  ot  appropriata 
advice,  headed  with  the  well-known  linea 
from  Blair's  Grave,  be^nning — 
"  Friendship !  mysterious  cement  of  the  soul. 


request  bis  friend's  t;ood 
oflices  in  increasing  bis  list  of  subscribera. 
The  young  man  was  (hen  posseaaed  of  bttle 
infinence ;  but  what  little  be  had,  be  ex- 
erted with  all  the  seal  of  friendship,  and 
with  conaiderable  ancceas.  A  conuderable 
number  of  copies  was  accorduigly  trans- 
mitted  in  proper  time  to  liis  <are,  and  soon 
after  the  poet  came  to  Maybole  to  receive 
'"""  ~ His  friend  collected   a  few 


Arms  Inn,  and  they  spent  a  happy  night 
together.  Bums  was  on  this  occasion  par^ 
timlariy  elated,  for  Willie,  in  the  midst  of 
their  conviviality,  handed  over  lo  him  above 
seven  pounds,  being  tiie  first  considerable 
anm  of  money  Ibe  poor  bard  had  ever  pos- 
sessed. In  the  pride  of  hia  heart,  neit 
morning,  he  detcrmmed  that  he  should  not 
walk  home,  and  aci?ordingly  be  hired  from 
his  host  a  certain  poor  heck  marc,  wdl 
known  alon^  tlie  whole  road  from  Glasgow 
'■"  Portpatnck — in  all  probability  the  first 
nutd  conveyance  that  Poet  Bums  had  eva 
enjoyed,  for  even  his  subsequent  journey  to 
Edinburgh,  aspicious  as  were  the  prospect* 
under  which  it  was  undertaken,  was  per- 
formed on  foot.  Willie  and  a  few  other 
youths  who  had  been  in  bis  company  on  the 


Ho,t,db,  Google 


LIFE  OP  BURNS. 


him,  fbi  I 


n^t,  walked  oat  of  tnwi 
'Jia  purpose  of  taking  lea 
paniciuar  epot;  and  before  he  ca 
they  had  prepared  b  tew  mock-lietoi 
ra  which  to  express  their  farewell. 
Bums  rode  up,  BcCfitdingly,  they 
hito  in  this  forma!  maimer,  a  littli 
Surprise,  He  tli^tiked  them,  howe' 
inalantly  added,  "What  need  of 
fine  parade  of  verse  ?  It  would  ha 
quite  enough  if  you  tad  said — 


I  to  his 
all'  this 


The  company  then  allowed  Bums  to  go  on 
his  way  rqoicing.  (39.) 

Under  the  humble  roof  of  hia  parents,  it 
»ppears  that  our  poet  had  great  adiamsges! 
but   Ms  opportunities    of   mformation    nt 


theyui 


allyai 


countrymen  in 
hit  condition  of  life ;  and  the  acquisitions 
whiiA  he  made,  and    the   poetical  Isleiit 
vhich  he  eierlal,  under  the  pres^uie  af  early 
and  incessant  toll,  and  of  inferior,  and  per- 
haps scanty  nutriment,  testify  at  once  the 
eitiaordinary  force  and  activity  of  his  mind. 
*    hia  frame  of  body  he  rose  nearly  to  Ave 
t  ten  inches,  and  assumed  the  proportions 
t  indicate  agility  as  well  aa  strHigth.    In 
various  labours  of  the  tsim  he  eKcelled 
his  competitors.     Gilbert  Burns  declares 
t  in  mowing,  the  esercise  that  tries  all 
severely,  Robert  WB3  the 


end  of  a 


er  obliged  to  acknowledge  as 
bis  master.  But  though  our  poet  gave  the 
powers  of  his  body  to  the  laWuri  of  the 
term,  he  refused  to  bestow  on  them  hia 
thoughts  or  his  caie.  While  the  plongh- 
Bhare  under  his  guidance  passed  tlirougb  the 
ewatd,  or  the  grass  fell  under  the  sweep  of 
his  eig^ie,  he  was  hummii^  the  Bongs  of 
his  country,  musii^  on  the  £eds  of  ancient 
Tilour,  or  wrapt  in  the  illusion  of  fancy,  as 
her  enchuitinents  rose  on  his  view.  Happily 
t^e  Sunday  is  yet  a  sabbath,  on  which  men 
and  bcB^t  rest  from  their  labours.  On  this 
day,  therefore,  Bmna  could  indulge  in  a  free 
intercourse  with  the  charms  of  natnre.  It 
wua  hia  delight  to  wander  alone  on  the 
han}a  of  the  Ayr,  whose  stream  is  now  im- 
mortal, and  to  liaten  to  the  aong  of  the 
blackbrnl  at  the  close  of  the  summer's  day. 
But  still  greater  was  his  pleasure,  aa  he 
himself  informa  US,  in  mdklng  on  the 
sheltered  side  of  a  wood,  in  a  cloudy  winter 
day,  and  hearing  the  storm  rave  among  the 


d  still  hi 


to  ascend  some  eminence  during  fbe  agita- 
tions of  nature ;  to  stride  along  ita  aummi^ 
while  the  hghtning  fia-ihed  around  him  and, 
amidst  the  howhngs  of  the  tempest  to  apos- 
trophise the  Sjjurit  of   the    Sturm       Such 

devotion  — 'Rapt  m  enthusiasm  I  seem 
to  ascend  towards  Him  Kho  inalla  on  tlie 
Kings  0/  the  urmda '  ^    If  other  proofs  were 


i  heart  of  the  poet 
rery  nupres^ioo  of 

-   -■  ■  'iigdec 


might  determnie  it 

is  peculiarly  aqake  t 

Ijeauty  and  subhmity 

order  of  puets  the  beautilul  IS  less : 

than  the  sublime 

The  gaiety  of  rainv  of  Butns's  writings, 
and  the  lively  and  e>en  cheerful  colouring 
with  which  he  has  portrayed  his  own  cha- 
racier,  may  lead  some  persons  to  suppose, 
that  the  mekncholy  which  hung  over  hun 
towards  tlie  end  of  his  days 


rt  of  his  I 


It  is 


,  idced,tl 
tequired  a,  darker  hue  in  the  progress  of  his 
life  \  but,  indepeudent  of  his  own  and  of  his 
brother's  testimony,  evidence  is  to  be  found 
among  his  papers,  that  be  was  subject  very 
early  to  those  depressions  of  mind,  which 
are  perhaps  not  wholly  separable  from  the 
sensiblhty  of  genius,  hut  which  in  him  arose 
to  an  uncommon  degree.  The  folloHing 
letter,  addressed  to  his  father,  will  serve  as  a 
proof  of  this  observation.  It  was  written  nt 
the  time  when  he  was  learnii^  the  bnsiueas 
of  a  £aiL  dresser,  and  is  dated 

"  JroiiM,  Decemhcr  27, 1781. 
"IIONOtJItED  Sir,— Ihave  purposely  de- 
layed wiituig,  m  the  hope  that  I  should  liave 
the  pleasure  of  seeing  you  on  New.year'a. 


I  shall  tell  you  at  meeting.  My  hadih  ia 
nearly  the  same  as  when  you  were  here,  only 
my  i\eea  is  a  little  sounder ;  and,  on  Ilie 
whole,  I  am  rather  better  than  otherwise, 
though  I  mend  by  very  slow  d^reea.  The 
weakness  of  my  nerves  has  so  debilitated  my 
mind,  that  I  dare  neither  review  past  erents, 
nor  look  forward  into  futurity ;  foi  (hs  least 
aniiety  or  perturbation  in  my  breast,  pro- 
duces most  unhappy  effects  on  my  whole 
frame.  Sometimes,  indeed,  when  for  an  hour 
or  two  my  spirits  aie  a  httle  lightened,  I 
gHmmer a  little  into  futurity;  but  my  prin- 
cipal, and  indeed  my  only  pleasurable  em- 
ployment, is  looking  backwards  and  forv.'ards 
in  a  moral  and  religious  way.  I  am  quite 
transported  at  the  thought,  that  ere  long. 


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BUENS-S  DEBATING  CLUB. 


re  pleased 


[  ihiJI  bid  I 

id  uneasinesses,  srd  disquietudea 

ity  Me,  for  [  i 
heartily  tired  of  it;    and, 
much  deceive  my  self,  I  could  conteDtedlj  and 
gladly  resign  it, 

"It  is  tot  this  reason  I  ua  : 
vich  the  15th,  16th,  and  17th  ' 
Tth  chaptra  of  Revelations,  than  with  any 
ten  times  as  many  verses  in  the  whole  Bible, 

with  which  they  inspire  me,  for  all  that  this 
world  h»s  to  offer.  (40)  As  for  this  world,  I 
despair  of  ever  mahing  a  fi^re  in  it.    1  am 

the  fiutter  of  the  gaj.  1  ehall  never  again 
be  capable  of  entering  into  such  scenes.  In- 
deed, I  am  altoffether  unconcerned  at  the 
thon^hta  of  this  life,  I  foresee  that  poverty 
uid  obscurity  probably  await  me  ;  I  am  in 
tome  messure  prepared,  and  duty  preparing, 
to  meet  them.  I  have  hut  just  time  ind 
paper  to  return  you  my  fateful  thanks  for 

me,  which  were  too  much  neglected  at  (he 
time  of  giving  them,  but  which.  I  hope,  have 
been  remembered  ere  it  is  yet  too  late.  Pte- 
lent  my  dutiful  respects  to  my  mother,  and 
my  compliments  to  Mr.  and  Hrs.  !Muir ;  and 
with  wishing  you  a  merry  New-year's-day,  1 
thall  conclude.  I  am.  honoured  air,  yonr 
dutifulaon,  "Hobekt  Bdbns. 

"P.S.— Mymealisneurlyout;  but  I  am 
going  to  borrow,  till  I  get  more." 

This  letter,  written  several  years  before 


^ally  fon; 


and  that  buoyant  and  ambitious  spirit  which 
indicates  a,  mind  conscious  of  ita  strength. 
At  Irvine,  Bums  at  this  time  possessed  a 
single  room  for  lus  lolling,  rented  perhaps  at 
the  rate  of  a  shilling  a-weefc.  He  passed  his 
days  in  constant  labour  as  a  flax..dreaser,  and 
his  food  consisted  chielly  of  oatmeal,  sent  t« 
him  from  his  father's  fomily.  The  store  of 
this  humble,  though  wholesome  nutrmieut, 
it  appears  was  nearly  exhausted,  and  he  was 
abouj  to  borrow  till  he  should  obtain  a  sup- 
ply. (41)  YeC  even  tn  this  situation,  his 
active  imagination  had  formed  to  itself  pic- 
tures of  eminence  and  distinction.  Hi!  de- 
epui  of  makii^  a  figure  in  the  world,  shows 
bow  ardently  he  wished  for  honourable  fiime; 
and  his  contempt  of  Ufe,  founded  on  this 
despair,  is  the  genuine  eipiessioD  of  a  youth- 


ful and  generous  mind.  In  such  a  state  o( 
ralectiou,  and  of  sutfering,  the  imagination 
of  Bums  naturally  passed  the  darlc  boundi^ 
ries  of  out  earthly  horizon,  and  rested  on 
those  beiuUtuI  reptewnlations  of  a  better 
world,  where  there  is  neither  thirst,  nor  hun- 
ger, nor  sorrow;  and  where  liappmeas  sliall 
be  in  proportion  to  the  capadty  of  happmesa. 
Such  a  disposition  is  tat  floia  being  at  va. 
~ — -■>-  ---■-'  enjoyments.    Those  w'- 


itndiedth 


lind,  kno' 


a  meiancholy  of  this  deaiription,  after  a  i 
seeks  rehef  in  the  endearments  of  societ] 


flow  of  cheerfulness,  or  even  the  eitravngMicB 
ofrairth.  It  was  a  few  days  after  tlie  writing 
of  this  letter  that  our  poet,  "in  givmg  a  wel- 
come carousal  Co  the  new  year,  with  his  gay 
companions,"  sulfered  hie  tas.  to  catch  tire, 
and  his  shop  to  he  consumed  to  aslies.  (42) 

The  enei^y  of  Bnms's  mind  was  not  ex- 
hausted by  his  daily  iahours,  the  efl'ujuon  of 
his  muse,  his  social  pleasitres,  or  his  solitary 
medications.  Some  time  previous  to  his  en- 
gagement as  a  flai-dreaser,  having  heard  Chat 
a  debating  club  had  been  estabh^ed  in  Ayr, 

the  village  of  Tarbolton,    About 


thei 


lof  tl 


tber,  and  five  other  young  peasants  of  tha 
neighbourhood,  formed  themselves  into  a  so- 
ciety of  this  sort,  the  declared  objects  of 
which  were  to  relai  themselves  after  toil,  to 
promote  sodahty  and  friendship,  and  to  im. 
prove  the  mind.  The  laws  and  regulaciona 
were  furnished  by  Bums.  The  memhers 
were  to  meet  after  Che  labours  < 


his  opinion  on  a  ^ven  question  or  subject, 
supporting  it  by  such  aiguments  as  ha 
thought  proper.  The  debate  was  to  be  con- 
ducted with  order  and  decorum ;  and  after 
it  was  ftnished,  the  members  were  to  chooaa 

ing.  The  snm  expended  by  each  was  not  to 
exceed  threepence ;  and,  with  the  humble 
could  procure,  they  were 

friendship  with  each  other.  This  aocietj 
ontinucd  its  meetings  regularly  fOr  some 

3  preserve  some  account  of  their  proceeif 
]gs,  they  purchased  a  hook,  into  which  theii 
iws  and  regulations  were  copied,  with  a 
reamble,  cont^ning  a  short  MstOTy  of  their 


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LIFE  OF  EURtre. 


•or  MrtU  ot  ilMd  we  do  not  boast, 
Kor  ^iiti7  doefl  our  club  affOFil ; 

"As  the  gteot  end  of  human  society  ia  to 
xome  wiser  &nd  better,  ttiis  onglit  there- 
re  to  be  the  prindpal  view  of  every  man  in 
ery  station  of  life.  But  as  experience  has 
a"ht  us,  tlisC  audi  studies  as  iufomi  Che 
!tii  and  mend  the  heart,  when  long  u>ti- 
iiued,  ere  apt  h>  exlteust  the  faculties  of  the 
uid,  it  hua  heen  fonnd  proper  to  relieve 
id  nnhend  the  mind  by  some  emplojiDBiiI 
ither,  that  inay  be  agreeable  enough  to 
ta  powers  in  exercise,  but  at  the  sirae 
ujue  not  so  serious  as  to  eifliaust  thein,  Sut 
■uperddded  to  this,  by  Ur  Elie  greater  part  of 
tnankuid  are  under  the  necessity  of  eaminff 
the  laatit^aaee  of  hsmas  life  by  thi'l^oitt  ef 
their  boitia,  wheicbf,  not  only  the  faculties 
of  mind,  but  the  nerres  and  auieRe  of  the 
body,  are  bo  btigued,  that  it  is  absolutely 

to  relieve  the  weaiied  man. 


0  have  re 


the. 


e  of  a: 


and  dive 


under 


_ c  plunged  into  all  the  ._    ._.  .   ._ 

riot  and  diB3i|iiilion ;  and,  inatead  of  uttend- 
jng  to  the  grand  design  of  human  life,  they 
have  begun  witbeitrnvaguice  and  folly,  and 
ended  with  guilt  and  wretchedness.  Im- 
pressed with  these  considerations,  we,  the 
following  lads  in  the  parish  of  TarbolEon, 
Tie.  Hugh  Beid,  Robert  Bunia.Gilhert  Bams, 
Alesander  Brown,  Walter  Mitchell,  Thomas 
Wright,  end  WiUiam  M'Gavin,  resolved,  for 
out  mutnol  entettai 


them  a  girl  every  -irxj  Igrei^able  hi  person 
canveraatian,  and  behaviour,  but  without  any 
fortune :  whieh  of  tliem  shall  he  choose  ?* 
Finduig  ourselves  very  happy  in  oar  society, 

month  in  the  same  house,  in  the  way  and 
manner  proposed,  »nd  shortly  thereafter  wa 
ehoae  Kohert  Hjtehie  for  another  member. 
In  May,  1781,  we  brought  in  David  Sillar, 
(43)  and  in  Jane,  Adam  Jamaison,  as  mem* 
bH3.  About  the  be},-inning  of  the  year  1782, 
we  admitted  Matthew  Patterson  and  John 
OiT,  and  ill  June  following  we  choose  Ixtnta 
Pat  terson  as  aproper  brother  for  such  a  society. 
The  club  being  thus  increased.we  resolved  to 
meet  at  Tarbolton  on  the  race  night,  the  July 
following,  and  have  a  dance  in  honour  of  nut 
society.  Accordingly,  we  did  meet,  eachone 
witli  a  partner,  and  apeotthe  evening  in  such 
merriment,  such  cheerfohieaa 


d  good  h 


wiU 
ith  pleasure  and  deliglit." 
Tu'tliis  preamble  are  subjoined  the  rules  and 
regulations. 

'nie  pliilosophical  mind  will  dwell  witb 
interest  and  pleasure  on  an  iustitutimi  thaC 
eomhined  so  skilfully  tl 


happme 


andifgrai 


let  us  trust  that  it  will  be  a  amile  of 
Icnne  and  approbation.  It  is  mtl 
that  tlie  sequel  of  the  history  of  the  Bache- 
lors'Qab  of  Tarbolton  m  "  '  "  "  - 
survived  several  years  after  our  poet  remove, 
from  Ayrshire,  hut  no  longer  suataiued  bj 

tions,  its  meetings  lost  much  of  their  atirac 
tion  1  and  at  length,  in  an  evil  hour,  dissen- 


aitted  to 


lejubti 


y,  nnder  s 


while  w< 


ahould  forget  our  | 


cares  and  labours  innurth  and  diversion, 
might  not  tran^reaa  the  hounds  of  inno- 
cence and  decorum ;  and  after  ageing  on 
these,  and  some  other  regulations,  we  held 
out  first  meeting  at  TatholKiB,  iu  the  house 
of  John  Kichara,  upon  the  evening  of  the 
11th  November,  USD.  comDioidy  called 
Hallowe'en,  and  after  choosing  Robert  Bums 
president  fortlie  night, we  proceeded  todebate 
on  this  question  i  '  Suppose  a  young  man, 
bred  a  fiirmer,  but  wif  -    ■         ■ 


the  one  a  j 

sation,  hut 
aHairs  of  a  I 


of  large  fortune,  but  neiiher 
raon  nor  agreeable  in  conver- 

L  well  enough ;   the  Other  of 


natter  of  Inatmetion  and  oj 
re  transmitted  to  posterity. 

After  tlie  tiunily  of  our  bard  removed  froia 
?drholton  to  the  neighbourhood  of  Mauch- 
inc.  he  and  his  brotber  were  requested  to 
1  forming  a  similar  institution  there. 


ITiere 


re  nearly  the  sa 


those  of  the  clubi 

_ ,    .  lahle  altffl^tion  w) 

made.  The  fines  for  non-attendance  had  i 
IWbolton  been  spent  in  enlarging  lh«r 
scanty  potations  :  at  Mauchliiie  it  was  lixed, 
that  the  money  so  arising  should  he  st ' 
apart  for  the  purchase  of  boohs,  and  the  Sri 
work  procutoi  in  this  manner  was  the  Jlir- 

that  time  recently  collected  and  published  in 
volumes.    After  it,  followed  a.  uuuibei  of 


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TEE  PECCLIAR  TASTES  OP  BURNS. 


oflier  works,  chieily  of  the 
■nd  among  Ihese  Uie  Lounger,  The  so- 
ciety of  Miiuchiine  still  [ISOU]  subsists,  and 
appesred  in  the  list  of  subsniben  to  the 
first  edition  of  the  works  of  its  celebrated 

Tlie  niatnbers  of  these  t«o  societies  were 
originnlly  all  young  men  from  the  eountry, 
(nd  chieSy  sons  of  farmers-»a  description  of 
persons,  in  the  opinion  of  our  poet,  more 
ftgreeahie  in  thrar  njanuers,  more  virtuous  in 
tteir  cooduct,  and  niont  snsceptihle  of  im- 
provement, than  the  self^^niftident 


Conrersatioa  Sodety  of  Mauchline,  it  may 
be  doubted,  whether  the  books  which  they 
purchased  wwe  of  a  tind  best  adapted  to 
promote  Uie  interest  and  happmess  of  per- 
sons in  this  situation  of  life.  The  Mirror 
and  the  IxiuB^r,  though  works  of  great 
merit,  mav  be  said,  on  a  general  view  of  their 
oontents,  to  be  less  calcniated  to  increase  the 
kooidedgu  tliau  to  refine  the  taste  of  those 
who  read  tliem;  and  to  thb  last  object  their 


morality 


feocly  pure,  may  be  considered 
nale.  As  works  of  taste,  they  deserve  great 
pnd^.  'iliey  are,  indeed,  refined  to  a  high 
d^tec  of  delicacy;  and  to  this  circumstaure 
it  13  perhaps  owing,  that  they  exhibit  httle 

ageor  country  in  which  they  were  produced. 
But  delicacy  of  taste,  though  the  source  of 
many  pleasures,  is  not  without  some  disod- 

possessor  should,  perhaps,  in  all  cases,  Ik 
™wd  above  the  necessity  of  boilily  labour, 
Iirde93,  indeed,  we  should  inchide  nnder  this 
term  the  eiercise  of  the  imitative  arts,  over 
which  taste  immediately  presiiies.  Delicacy 
of  taste  may  be  a  blessing  to  him  who  has 
the  disposal  of  his  own  time,  aiid  who  can 
choose  what  hook  he  shall  read,  of  what  di- 
Tcnion  he  shall  partake,  and  what  company 
he  shall  keep.  To  men  so  situated,  the  cul- 
tivatiou  of  taste  affords  a  grateful  occupation 
in  itself,  and  opens  a  path  to  many  olhec 
gratifications.     To  men  of        ■       ■      - 


1  of the  t 


imployment  to  those 
Gundtiea,  which  without  employment  would 
destroy  the  happiness  of  the  possessor,  and 

the  expressions  of  Mr.  Hume,  that  deUcacy 
of  passion,  which  is  the  bane  of  the  temper- 
ament of  genius.  Happy  had  it  been  for  our 
bard,  after  he  emerg^  from  tlie  condition  of 
a  peasant,  had  the  dehcacy  of  his  tasto 
quailed  thea^iaibihtyof  his  passions,  r^u- 


lating  all  thecSiisions  of  his 
siding  over  all  his  social  enjoj 
the  thousands  who  share  the 
tion  of  Sums,  and  who  are  i 
their  lives  in  the  station  in  w 
bom,  delicacy  of  taatti  were 
lid,  it  not 


positive  evil,  b 


A  blessing.     Delicacy  of 


some  or  disgusting ;  and  should  it  render  tha 
culliTator  oC  the  soil  unhappy  m  his  situa- 
tiim,  it  presents  no  means  by  which  thi^ 
situation  may  be  unproved,  T^ste  and  lite- 
out  sodetj',  which  sometimes  secure  to  tta[ 
votaries  distinction  wliile  liviii»,  and  which 
still  more  frequently  obtain  loi  them  pos- 
thumous &me,  seldom  procure  opidence,  or 
even  independence,  whoi  cultivated  with  the 
utmost  attention,  and  cau  scarcely  be  pniv 
sued  with  advantage  by  the  peasant  in  th« 
short  intervals  of  Idsnre  which  his  occnpo- 
tions  allow.  Those  irho  raise  themselves 
from  the  condition  of  daily  labour,  are  usually 
men  who  eicel  in  the  practice  of  some  useful 
art,  or  who  join  habits  of  industry  and  so. 
btiety  to  an  acquaintance  with  some  of  the 
"esofknowleilge.    Tha 


the  humblest  walk 
assist  the  peasant  more  in  tha  pursuit  of  in. 
dependence  thMi  the  study  of  Homer  or  of 
^akespeore,  though  he  could  comprehend, 

mortal  bards. 

These  obaervations  are  not  offered  with- 
out some  portion  of  doubt  and  besitntian. 
The  Bi^ject  has  many  tehitious,  and  would 
justify  an  ample  diseussion.  It  may  bo 
the  other  hand,  that  the  first 


.tep  t 


I  the 
(  of  improvement,  and  that  this  will  b« 
ost  effectnaUy  done  by  such  reading  aa 
teresCs  the  heart  and  excites  the  imagine 
on.  The  greater  part  of  the  sacred 
ritings  themselves,  which  in  Scotland  are 
ore  especidiy  the  manual  of  the  poor^ 
ime  under  this  description.  It  may  be  fiir- 
ler  observed,  thaCevery  human  being  is  tha 
proper  judge  of  his  own  happinesa.and,  within 
the  path  of  innocence,  ought  to  be  per- 

the  Scottish  peasantry  to  give  s  preference 
to  works  of  taste  and  of  fiincy  (44),  it  may 
be  presumed  they  find  a  superior  gratifica. 
"  ■  "■  ihe  perusal  of  such  works;  and  it 
added,  that  it  is  of  more  con- 
:  they  should  be  made  happy  in 
their    originBl    condition,   than   turmshed 


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LIFE  OF  BDRNS. 


neans,  or  witli  the  ietire,  of 

Such  coneiderations  are,  donbt- 
niich  weight;    nevertheless 
tefleotions    may  deserve   I 


Tell  calculated  f 


lited  t< 


poaeaot 


inftmoalion.     Where  t 

Buch,  that  each  peraon  may  have  an  op 
timiry  of  imparliDg  hb  eentunents,  as 
as  o(  receiving  those  of  others  i  and 
powers  of  private  coaveraation  ate  to 
employed,  not  thoae  of  pnhlic  dehate, 
Umited  ao«Gty  at  this  kind,  where 
Bnbject  of  conversffHon  is  flicd  beforehand. 


Tioualyin  h 
happiest  CO 
fur  shortenn 


is  perhaps  one  of  the 
s  hitherto  discovered 
[uiaition  of  knowledge, 


Such  an  assodation  requires  indeed  i 
what  more  of  iN^^lattou  than  the  mles  of 
politeness,  estahliahed  in  common  conversa- 
tion, or  rather,  perliapa,  it  requires  that  the 

■ation  are  hable  to  perpetual  violation,  should 
he  vifforoualy  enforced  Tlie  order  of  speech 
established  m  the  dub  at  Tarboltoii,  ap- 
pears to  have  been  more  regular  than  was 


■  member  to  whom  every  speaker  ahall 
address  himself,  and  who  sh^  in  return 
secure  the  speaker  from  interruption.  Con- 
lersation,  which  among  men  whom  intimacy 
and  Mendship  have  relieved  from  reserve 
and  restraiut,  is  liable,  when  left  to  itself 
to  so  many  iuequshcies,  and  which,  as  it 
becomes  rapid,  so  often  diverges  into  sepa- 
rate and  collateral  branches,  in  which  it  is 
dissipated  and  lost,  being  kept  nithin  its 
channel  by  a  simple  limitatioa  of  this  fcmd, 
which  practice  renders  easy  and  tamiliar, 
flows  along  in  one  hdl  stream,  and  becomes 
smoother,  and  clearer,  and  deeper,  as  it 
flows.  It  may  also  be  observed,  that  m 
this  way    the    acquisition    of  knowledge 

the  gradual  improvement  of  the  faculty 
employed  to  convey  it.  Though  some 
•ttentiou  has  been  paid  to  the  eloquence  of  j 


»  and  the  bar.  vMch 


it,  yet  httle  regard  has  been  paid  to  the 
humbler  exercise  of  speech  in  private  con- 
vetsation — an  art  tint  is  of  consequence  lo 
every  description  of  persona  under  every 


it  requisite  of  every  hmd  of  el 

much  time  and  of  long  practice.    Children 

and  ao  are  young  people,  though  in  a  lesa 
d^ree.  'IVhat  is  called  slurring  in  speech, 
prevads  with  some  persona  through  life, 
especially  in  those  who  are  taciturn.  Ar- 
ticulation doea  not  seem  to  reach  its  utmost 
degree  of  distinctness  in  men  before  tlie 

reaches  this  point  somewhat  earlier.  Fe- 
male occupationa  lequire  much  use  of 
speech,  because  they  are  duties  in  detaiL 
Besides,  their  occupations  being  generally 
sedeutary,  the  respiration  is  left  at  Hbcrly. 
Their  nerves  being  more  delicate,  their 
senaibihtyaswellasfcncyismoreUvely;  the 
natural  consequence  of  which  is,  a  more 
frequent  utterance  of  thought,  a  greater 
fluency  of  speech,  and  a  distinct  articuhUiion 
at  an  earlier  age.  But  in  men  who  have 
not  mingled  early  and  lamiliarij  with  the 
world,  though  rich  perhaps  in  knowledge, 
and  clear  in  apprehension,  it  is  often 
painful  to  observe  the  dilflfaUj  with  which 
their  ideas  are  communicaied  by  speech, 
through  the  want  of  those  habits  that  con- 
nect thoughts,  words,  and  sounds  together ; 
'hicli,  when  eslahlished,  seem  as  if  they  had 
iiisen  spontaneously,  but  which,  in  truth, 

ind  when  analysed,  exhibit  the  phenomena 
>f  most  curious  and  complicated  association. 
Societies  then,    such  aa  we  have  beeu 
lescribit^  while  they  may  be  said  to  put 
Mch  member  in  possession  of  the  know- 
ledge of  all  the  res^  improve  the  powers  of 
-"^ance;    and  by  the  collision  of  opinion, 
te  the  fhculties  of  reason  and  reflection, 
those  who  wish  to  improve  then  minds 
ch  i  tervala  of  labo     as  the  co  dit' 


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JEAS  AESIOUR. 


vent  those  Uluaioiia  of  imngiiuitioii,  by  whi' 
gemns  bein^  bewildered,  science  is  ofti 
debased,  uid  error  propiKBted  throui 
sumessive  genetaiions.  And  to  men  wi 
having  cuUiTUed  letters,  oc  general  sd^u 
in  the  course  of  their  education,  ate  e 
gsged  in  the  acti™  occupations  of  life,  ai 

books  tlie  time  requisite  fbr  hniitoviog  or 
preaetviug  tlieir  ocqniaitiona,  aaaoeiationa  of 
this  kind,  where  the  mind  may  unbend 
6om  its  usual  cares  in .  discussions  of 
llteritnre  at  sinence.  afford  the 
ini;,  the  most  useful,  and  the  most  rational 

Vh  m  h   h  mble  societies  of  «bic1i 

b       as  a  m  mb       Burns  acquired  much 
direc    m    rmat   n  may  perhaps  be  qoes- 
n  d.    I    cann       however,  be  doubted, 
h      b       Um  n    h      Multies  of  bis 
n      d  he  e.      ed       hot  by  practict 

t   n  nould  be  established ; 


diiighlK  of  a  substantial  country  mason. 
""  "  "-'it;  there  was  a  rock'mij  at  Mossgiel, 
lad  named  Ra1]>h  Siltar  sang  a 
>f  songs  in  what  wris  considered  a 
style,      Ttlien  Burns  and    Blane 
al  sleeping  place  in 


asked  tl 


I  abont  it,  that  there  was  no  occasion  6>t 
others  eipteaiing  a  &.vour«ble  opinion — yet, 
he  added,  "1  would  not  give  Jean  Armoitr 
fiw  a  score  of  him."  "  You  are  always 
talking  of  this  Jean  Armour,"  said  Bums ; 
"  i  wish  you  could  contrive  to  bring  me  to 
see  het-"  Blane  readily  consented  Co  do  so, 
and  next  evening,  after  the  plough  was 
loosed,  the  tao  proceeded  to  Maucblinfl  fbr 
that  purpose.  Batjis  went  into  a  public- 
house,  and  Blaoe  went  into  the  su^ii^- 
school,  which  clianced  to  be  kept  ia  the 


and  h 


thouRhts  1 


y  had  it  be 


sand  of  words  and  of  expression 
.bled  hint  to  pour  forth  his 
0  language  not  unworthy  of  ""'" 
^cmu«  and  whidi,  of  all  bis  endowmei 
seemed,  on  bis  j^pearance  iu  Ediubur 
the  must  citraortUuary.  For  associatii 
of  a  hteraty  natu 
considuable  rdisb 
for  him,  after  he 
dition  of  a  peasant,  if  fortune  had  permitted 
h  ni  to  enjoy  them  in  the  degree  of  which 
be  was  callable,  so  as  to  have  fortified  his 
principles  of  virtue  by  the  purification  of  his 
taste  aud  given  to  the  euer^es  of  his 
mind  habits  of  exertion  that  might  liave 
Ciciuied  other  assodations,  in  which  it 
must  be  acknowledged  ihey  were  too  often 
waited  as  well  as  debased. 

[Tbe  allusions  iu  Bums's  letter,  and  that 
of  hia  brother,  to  his  conoectiou  with  Jean 
Armour,  aflord   but    a  vague  account  of 


.    Havi 


some  farther  and  cli 


ir  particulars  should 


John  Blane  reports  the  foHowing  in- 
teresting dreumatauces  respecting  the 
nttaehin^nt  of  the  poet  to  Miss  Armour ; — 
Tbere  was  a  suiging  school  at  Haucliline, 
whidi  Blane  attended.  Jean  Armour  was 
pupil,  and  be 


fie  e 


tvacted  a  kind  of  attachment  to  tliis  you 
woman,  though  oniy  such  as  a  counity 
of  hia  degree    might    entertain    for    I 


heard  of  bis  poetical  talents,  she  said  she 
would  like  much  to  see  him.  but  was  afraid 
to  go  without  a  l^male  companion.  This 
difficulty  being  overcome  by  the  frankness 
of  a  Miss  Slorton— tlie  Miss  Morion  of  the 
Six  Mauchline  BeHes — Jean  went  down  to 
the  room  where  Bums  was  sitting.  "  From 
that  time,"  Blane  adds  very  nai'vSy,  "  I  had 
little  of  the  company  of  Jean  Armour." 

Here  for  the  present  eoda  the  story  ot 
Blane.  The  results  of  Buma's  acquaint, 
ance  with  Jean  have  been  already  in  part 
detailed.    When  hec  pregnancy  could  be  no 

fluenco  of  honourable  feelings  gave  her  a 
written  paper,  iu  which  he  acknowledged 
his  being  her  husband — a  document  sufii- 
cient  to  constitute  a  marriage  in  Scotland, 
if  not  in  the  eye  of  decency,  at  least  in  that 
of  law.  But  her  father,  from  a  diahke  to 
Burns,  whose  theoli^ica!  satires  had  greatly 
shocked  him,  and  from  hopeleanesa  of  his 
being  able  to  support  her  as  a  husband, 
insisted  that  she  should  destroy  this  paper, 

were  enraged  at  the  imprudence  of  their 
daughter,  and  at  Burns.  The  daughter, 
trembling  beneath  tbdr  indignation,  could 
ill  resist  the  cammand  to  forget  aud 
abandon  her  lover.    He,  m  his  tuni,  was 

informed  that  she  had  given  him  up.  Ado. 
tber  event  occurred  to  add  to  the  tormeuts 


Ho,t,db,  Google 


of  the  nnhsppy  p 


IJFB   OF   BDESS. 


■    fatlier 


di>- 


omh  of  May 
(178«)  to  Paisley,  and  took  refiige  with  a 
relatim  of  ber  mother,  one  Andrew  Purdie, 
&  wright.  There  was  at  Puaiey  a  certUQ 
Egbert  WilaoQ,  a  p]od-lookiu^  young 
veaver,  a  natiTe  of  Meuditine,  Bod  who  waa 
realising  wages  to  the  amount  of  peche 
three  pounds  a-week  by  his  then  flourialiiu^ 
profesaion.  Jean  Armoar  had  danced  with 
this  "gallant  weayer"  at   the    Mauchlini 


icing-M 


balls,     and,     i 


relative  Pun^,  she  kdew_.   ,_._ 

in  Paisley.  Being  in  much  need  of 
Binall  supply  of  money,  she  found  it  necc 
Btry  to  i^ply  to  Mr.  Wilson,  who  receivi 
her  kindly,  although  he  did  not  conceal  th 
he  had  a  suspicion  of  the  reason  of  her  li: 
to  Paisley.  Wlieii  the  reader  b  reminded 
that  Tillage  life  is  not  the  sphere  ia  which 
bigb-wrought  and  romantic  feelings  are 
most  apt  to  Bouriab,  lie  will  be  prepared 
in  some  measure  to  learn  that  Robert 
Wilson  not  only  relieved  the  necessities 
of  the  fair  appliiant,  but  formed  the  wish  to 
possess  himself  of  her  hand.  He  called  for 
her  several  times  at  Purdie's,  and  informed 
her,  that,  if  she  should  not  become  tlie  wife 
of  Bums,  he  woald  engage  himself  to  none 
vbile  she  remained  unmarried,  Mrs. 
Burns  long  after  assnred  a  female  fri«id 
thai  she  never  gave  the  least  eneourago- 
ment  to  Wilson;  but,  nevertheless,  his 
visits  occasioned  some  gossip,  which  soon 
found  its  way  to  Maueblin^  and  entered  the 


»  Ukea 


'C  r^arded  her  aa  lost 
to  him  for  ever,  and  that  not  purely  through 
the  objections  of  her  relations,  hut  by  ber 
own  cruel  and  perj«i-ed  desertion  of  one 
whom  she  had  acknowledged  as  her  bus- 
bond.  It  requires  these  ^rticulors,  little 
as  there  may  be  of  pleasing  about  them,  to 
maiie  us  fully  uuiierstand  much  of  what 
Bums  wrote  at  this  time,  both  in  verse  and 
prose.  Long  afterwards,  he  became  con- 
tinced  that  Jean,  by  no  part  of  her  conduct 
with  respect  to  Wihon,  liad  giveu  him  just 
cause  for  jcalouay :  it  is  not  improbable 
that  he  leaned  in  time  to  make  it  the  sub- 
ject of  sport,  and  wrote  the  son^, "  Where 


Cart  rins  rowing  ti 


months  duri 


It  for 


ring  whicli  he  was  putting  hi 
maicnieas  poems  for  the  first  time  to  pre^ 
— he  conceived  himself  the  victim  of  i 
pithless  woman,  and  life  was  to  him,  as  h 
himself  describe!  it. 


still  t 


letter  dated  June  12, 1785,  he  says 
ill-advised  ungrateful  Armour  came 
II  Friday  bst.  Yon  have  heard  all 
ticulars  of  that  affair,  and  a  black 
is.  What  she  thinks  of  her  conduct 
don't  know ;  one  thing  I  do  know, 
!  made  me  completely  miserable, 
man  loved,  or  rather  ajlored,  a  wo. 


distraction,  after  all,  though  I 
ivoui.  tell  het  so  if  1  were  to  see  her, 
which  1  don't  want  to  do.  *  •  May 
Almighty  God  forgive  her  ingratitude  and 
perjury  to  me,  as  I  from  my  very  soal 
forgive  her."  On  the  Sth  July  he  writes— 
"  I  have  wiutej  on  Armour  since  her  return 
home,  not  from  the  least  view  of  reconcilia,. 
tion,  but  merely  to  ask  for  her  health,  and — to 
yon  I  will  confess  it — from  a  foolish  hanker- 
ing fondness— very  ill-placed  indeed.  TTio 
moUier  forbade  me  the  house,  nor  did  Jean 

expected.  However,  the  priest,  I  am  in. 
formed,  will  give  me  a  certiJicate  as  a  npg]e 
man,  if  I  comply  with  the  rules  of  the 
church,  which,  for  that  very  reason,  I  mteiid 
*-  ■'o.  I  am  going  to  put  on  sackcloth  and 
fs  this  day.  1  am  mdulged  so  ^  as  to 
iar  in  my  own  seat.     Psccaui,  pater, 

\  a  letter  of  July  17,  to  Mr.  David 

s  of  Glasgow,  the  poet  thus  continnes 

"'Try;— I  have  ahead;?  appeared  pub- 

I  church,  and  was   indulged  in  the 

r  standing  m  my  own  seat.    Jean 

friends    insisted  much   that    she 

<hould  stand  along  with  me  in  the  kirk,  but 

the  minister  would  not  allow  it,  whic^  bred 

great  trouhle,  I  assure  yon,  and  I  am 

•      -'  '■■  though  I  am  Bnr« 


blamed  as 


;eia;  but  I  an 
1,'july  30—- 


I  lay  my  head,' 

;    ill-advised   girl 
may  all  the  furii 


had  het  company," 
Armour  has  got  a 
jail  till  I  find  seen- 
D,  This  they  beep 
;o(  it  l>y  a  channel 
id  1  am  wandering 

ispel,  'have  no 
know  you  wiU 
liead.  but  spare 
for  my  sake; 
that  rend  the 


latest  hour  I     I  write  in  a 
of  rage,  teAeeliiig  on  my  miserable 
tituatioa — exiled,  abandoned,  finioi^n,'' 


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JEAN  ARMOTJE'S  TWIN  CHILDREN. 


In  this  datk  period,  or  immediately  before 
it  (July  32),  the  poet  sisned  an  instrument, 

the    kii^doiD,    by    nliich    he    deiised  eU 

Copetty  of  whatever  kind  he  might  kave 
hind,  indudmg  the  copyright  of  hia 
poems,  to  his  brother  Gilbert,  in  considenir 
tion  of  the  latter  having  undertnten  to 
■uppott  his  daughter  Elisabeth,  the  isaue  of 
"Elisabeth  Faton  in  Largieside."  IntiniB- 
tiou  of  thia  instrument  was  publicly  made 
Bt  the  Cross  of  Ayr,  two  days  after,  by 
■Williion  Clulmera,  writer.  If  he  had  been 
upon  better  terms  with  the  Armours,  it 
■eems  unlikely  that  he  ivould  have  thus 
devised  his  property  witliout  a  respect  for 
tlie  claims  of  his  oUTspting  by  Jetui. 

After  thia  we  bear  no  mote  of  the  \ega[ 
•everities  of  Mr.  Armour — the  object  of 
which  was,  not  to  abridge  the  liberty  of  the 
unfortunate  Bnms,  bnt  lo  drive  him  away 
from  the  cotuitry,  so  He  to  leave  Jean  more 
eOectually  diseugaged.  ^'he  F0£U3  now 
tppeued,  sod  probably  had  some  elfect  m 
allaying  the  hostility  of  the  old  roan  to- 
WBiils  their  author.  It  would  at  least 
appear  that,  ti  the  time  of  Jean's  ncconche- 
men^  Septenihw  3,  tlie  "skulking"  had 
leasal,  and  the  pareuts  of  the  young  woman 
were  not  so  cruel  as  to  forbid  liis  !e«ng  her. 
We  now  resume  the  story  of  John  Blane. 

At  tills  time.  Blaue  had  removed  fi-om 
Mos^el  to  tiaucldine,  and  become  servant 
to  Mr.  Gavm  Hamilton;  but  Sums  still 
remembered  their  old  acquainience.  When, 
in  eoiisequeiLce  of  information  sent  by  the 
Atuioun  as  to  Jean's  situation,  the  poet 
came  from  Mossgiel  to  visit  her,  he  called 

m  passuig  at  Mr.  F 

John  to    accompany  hitn    to    ' 

where,  according  to  his  recollection,  tlie 
bard  was  received  with  all  desirable  civility. 
Jean  held  up  a  pretty  femaie  in&ut  to 
Burns,  who  took  it  afiectionatdy  in  his 
anas,  and,  after  keeping  it  a.  little  while, 
returned  it  to  the  molh^,  asliing  the  hlessv 
ing  of  God  Almighty  upon  hct  and  her 

with  the  other  people  m  the  room,  when 
Jean  aaid,  archly,  "But  this  is  not  all — here 
is  another  baby,"  and  handed  him  a  male 
diild,  which  hid  been  bom  at  the  same 
tune.  He  was  greitly  surprised,  but  took 
that  child  too  for  a  httle  into  his  arms,  and 
repeated  his  blessing  upon  it.  (This  chdd 
was  afterwards  named    Robert,  and    still 

Uved'fourleen  months.)  The  mood  of  the 
melancholy  poet  then  changed  to  the  inirth- 


ful,  and  the  scene  was  concluded  by  his 
giving  the  ailing  lady  a  hearty  caress,  and 
rallying  her  on  this  promising  beginning  of 

It  would  appear,  from  the  words  used  by 
the  poet  on  this  occasion,  that  he  was  not 
without  hope  of  yet  making  good  his  matri- 
monial alliance  with  Jean,  aiiis  is  rendered 
the  more  hkely  by  the  evidence  which  eiiats 
of  his  having,  for  some  time  during  Sep- 
tember eotettamcd  a  hope  of  obtaining  an 
eaci^e  appomtmmt    through    hia    frienda 


able 


countenance  of  the 
hrospect  ended  in  dis- 


dttde    that  n 

accoucheinent  he  was  once  more  forbidden 

to  visit  the  house  m  which  his  cliildren  and 

a  peraiHi  named  John  Kennedy,  who  tra- 
velled the  district  on  horseback  as  mnean- 


iiould  n 


Willi  a  present  for  "  his  poor  wife." 
cmiaented,  and  the  poet  hoisted  upon  the 
pommel  of  the  saddle  a  bag  Ullal  with  the 
delicacies  of  the  funn.  He  proceeded  to 
Mr.  Armour's  house,  and  requested  per* 

message  and  a  present  from  Robert  Burns. 
Mrs.  Armour  tiolenlly  protested  against  hia 
being  admittcl  to  an  incer?iew,  and  he- 
stowed  upon  him  sundry  uuceremonioos 
appellatioJis  for  being  the  friewd  of  such  a 

instance  by  her  husban4  aud  Kennedy  was 
permitted  to  enter  the  apartment  where 
Jean  was  lying.  He  had  not  been  there 
many  minutes,  wlien  he  heard  a  rushing 

closely  by  the  Armours,  who  seemed  to  have 
exhaust^  their  sCrengnh  in  endeavouring  to 
repel  his  intrusion.  Bums  flew  to  the  hed, 
and  putting  his  clieek  to  Jean's,  and  then  in 

infiuits,  wept  bitterly.  The  Armours,  it  is 
added  by  Kennedy,  who  has  hunsclt  re- 
ported the  drcumslances  (4!>),  remaned  nn- 
aifected  by  hia  distress ;  but  whether  he 

immediately  after  expelled,  is  not  mentioned. 
After  hearing  this  affecting  anecdote  of 
Bums,  the  lament  may  veri^  appear  to  ua 
as  arising  from 

"  Ko  idly  feieued  poetic  pains."  (^J 


„  Google 


The  whole  course  of  the  Ayi  is  fine ; 


of  tl 


re  frequented,  s 


be  im^ned,  by  our  poet  iu  his  solitary 
Talks.  Here  the  muse  often  Tiailed  '  * 
In  one  of  these  nundeiiugs,  Ite  met  nn 
the  n'oods,  a  celebrated  lieuity  of  the  ' 
■f  Scotlwid— aladj,  of' 


the  < 

dent  gave  tis^  aa 
poem,  of  which  an 
tbefollowia^lettej 
to  the  object  of  h 


(47)  Thismd. 
light  be  expected,  to  a 
KOunt  viU  be  found  in 
a  which  he  euclosed  it 


e  iiauuts  of  tuy  inuse,  oi 


of  the  vi 


The  e 


spied  one  of  the  fiiirest  pieces  of  nstuce's 
wortinaiiship  that  ever  crowned  a  poetic 
iDudscape,  or  met  a  poet's  eye ;  those  vision- 
ary bards  encepted  who  hold  commerce  with 
aerial  beings!    Haa  calumny  and  vitlany 


,  ,       .  superior  grace. 

It  is  equally  sincere  as  fervent. 

"  TiiB  acsuery  ivas  neatly  taken  from  real 
life,  thoi^  1  dare  aay»  madam,  you  do  not 
recollect  it,  ea  I  believe  you  scarcely  noticed 
'he  poetic  reoeur  aa  he  wandered  by  5 " 


k,  they  h 


"To  Misa 

"Mosssiel,  \ith  NoBBMher,  17( 
'  Mabau. — Poets  are  such  outrfi  beings, 
■D  much  tlie  the  children  of  wayward  fiaicy 
and  capricious  whim,  that  T  believe  tl' 
world  generally  allowathem  a  krger  latitui 
in  the  laws  of  propriety,  than  the  sober  soi 
of  judgment  and  prudence.  I  mention  1h 
as  an  ^lology  for  the  liberies  that  a  nam 
less  stranger  has  taken  with  you  in  (! 
euidosed  poem,  which  he  begs  laiye  to  pr 
lent  yon  with.  Whether  it  has  poetic 
merit  any  way  worthy  of  the  theme,  I  am 
r  jni^e,  hut  it  is  the  ' 


.      X  with  such  an  object. 
"  tVhat  an  hour  of  inspiration  for  a  poet  I 
C  would  have  rused  plain,  dull,  historic 

"The  enclosed  song  was  the  work  of  my 
Etum  home:  and  perhaps  it  hut  poorly 
nswers  what  might  have  been  ejipected 

"I  have  the  lioiioiu'  to  be,  madam,  yom 


My  heart  n 
When,  mnsin 

Her  look  «m 

Behold  the 
Fair  is  the  m< 


re  listeuinK  seemed  the  while. 


mture's  vernal  smile, 
icrcii  passliw  by, 
«o'B3lloc)ln>yle!(») 


Then 


ving  through  the  (tarde 
idering  in  the  lonely  wj 


a    breath     stirred   the    crnnaon    openu 
blossom,  or  the  verdant  spreading  leaf. 

I  listened  to  the  feathered  warblers,  pouru 
theu  harmony  on  every  hand,  with  a  co_ 
genial  kindred  regard,  and  frequently 
turned  out  of  my  path,  feat  I  should  disturb 

'their  ]it(^  songs,  or  frighten  them  to 
another  station.  Surely,  said  1  to  myself, 
he  must  be  a  wretch  indeed,  who,  tegard- 

'less    of  your    harmonious    endeavours    to 

S lease  him,  can  eye  your  eluave  Sights  to 
iscover  your  secret  recesses,  and  to  rob  yon 
of  all  the  property  nature  ^ves  you,  your 
dearest  comforts,  your  helpless  nestlinga. 
Even  the  ho^y  hawthorn  twig  that  shot 
across  the  way,  what  heart  at  such  a  time 
.biLt  must  have  beeu  inleieated  in  itawel- 


at  ever  rose  on  Scotland's  plabi, 

L  nfglitly  to  my  b^m  strain 

e  bonny  hiss  o*  Ballochmyle. 

I  pride  might  climb  the  slippery  sl««p, 

thirst  of  gold  miithi  tempt  the  deep, 

Give  me  the  cnt  below  the  pine, 

To  tend  the  flocks  or  till  the  soU, 
And  every  day  have  joys  divine 
"With  the  bony  lass  0'  Ballochmyle." 
In  the  manuscript  book  in  which  our  poet 
has  recounted  this  incident,  and  into  which 
the  letter  and  poem  are  corned,  he  comphuns 
that  the  laidy  made  no  reply  to  hia  effuaiona. 


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BUSCEPTIBIIITY  OF  BUKNS. 


■nd  this  appeara  to  hevi 


t,  howe 


ir,  difficul 
Biinia 


time  little  knomi ;  and,  where  known  at  all, 
noted  tachet  fut  the  wild  strei^fh  of  Wa 
humour,  than  for  those  atnina  of  temlemess 
in  which  he  aftermitds  so  much  eicelled.  To 
the  lady  herself  liia  nane  had,  perhaps,  never 
been  mentioned,  and  of  siich  a  poem  she 
might  not  coneider  herself  aa  the  proper 
jui^  Her  modesty  might  prevent  het 
from  percHvii^  that  the  muse  of  Tihnllua 
breathed  in  this  nameless  poet,  and  that  her 
heauty  was  awakening  atrams  deatmed  to  im- 
mortality on  the  hanks  of  the  Ayr.  It  may 
be  coneeiTed,  also,  that  supposing  the  verse 
duly  appreciated,  delioaey  might  find  it  diffi- 
cult to  ejpresa  its  actnowlelginents.  The 
fervent  im^ination  of  the  mstic  bard  pos- 
Bfssed  more  of  tenderness  than  of  respect. 
Instead  of  raising  himself  lo  the  condition  of 
the  objei^  of  his  admiration,  he  presumed  to 


of  tTiis  passion  died  eirly  in  life,  and  the  im. 
pression  left  on  the  mind  of  Bums  seems  to 
have  been  deep  and  kstir^.  (51)  SefCtal 
years  afterwards,  when  he  was  removed  to 
Nithsdale,  he  gave  vent  to  the  sensibihty  of 


'*  ThoQ  litunrinff  star,  with  less'niug  ra 
That  loT'st  to  preet  the  early  mom, 

A^n  thon  uaher'at  In  the  day 
My  Uai?  from  m;  eool  was  torn. 

Oh,  Afary  1  dear  departed  shade  I 
Where  is  thy  place  ofblissM  rest  t 

aeen  thou  thy  Iotct  lowly  laid  ! 
peat'tt  thou  the  groans  tliat  rendiis  b 
That  aoered  hour  oaa  1  forget, 

Where  hy  the  windii")[  Ayr  wo  met 
To  live  one  day  of  parting  love  I 


._„ w  found  precedents  for 

such  freedoms  amonf;  the  poets  of  Greece 
■rid  Rome,  and,  indeed,  of  every  country. 
And  it  is  not  to  he  denied,  thaJ;  lovely  wo- 
men hare  generally  submitted  to  this  aorC  of 
profanation  with  patience,  and  even  with 
good  humour.  To  what  purpose  is  it  to  re^ 
pine  at  a  misfortune  which  is  the  necessary 
consequence  of  then'  own  charms,  or  to  re- 
monstrate with  a  description  of  men  who  are 
incapable  of  control? 
"The  lunatic,  tie  lorer,  anil  the  jocl, 


1  his  pebbled  shore, 
wilcl  woods,  tliick^nlui 


The  binlB  fsng  love  on  every  spray, 
Procliim'*  the  speed  of  winged  day. 


ns  their  channels  deeper  w 


Wto'isthyploc 

Soest  Iliou  thy  loter  lowly  lal 


[bri 


To  the  delineations  of  thepoet  hy  himselt 
by  his  brother,  and  by  his  tutor,  these  addi- 
tions are  iieceaaary,  In  order  that  the  reader 

and  may  have  an  opportnuity  of  forming  a 
X  of  his  ima^natiun,  eiposed  him,  in  just  notion  of  thevaiiety,  as  well  aa  of  ^a 
a  psrticuJar  manner,  to  the  impteasions  of  power  of  his  original  genius.  (53) 
b^ty ;  and  these  qualities,  united  to  his  We  have  dwelt  tl^  longer  on  the  earl j 
impai^oned  eloquence,  gave  him  in  turn  a  part  of  his  life,  because  it  is  the  least  known, 
powetfol  influence  over  the  female  heart,  and  because,  as  has  aheady  been  mentioueiL 
The  banti  of  the  Ayr  formed  the  scene  of  this  part  of  his  history  is  connected 
youthful  passions  of  a  sSU  tenderer  nature, 
tliehistt^  of  which  it  would  he  improper  to 
teveai,  were  it  even  in  our  power ;  and  the 
traces  of  which  will  soon  be  discoverable  onlj' 
in  those  strains  of  nature  and  sensibility  to 
which  they  gave  birth.  The  song  entitled 
Higliland  Mary  is  * "■ ■---■■ " 


"Itwi 


county,  his  cotrespondi 

the  chief  incidents  of  the  remaining  part  i^ 
his  lite  will  be  found.  Tliis  authenlio, 
though  melancholy  record,  ivill  supersede  in 


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LIFE  OF  EUKNS. 


fatura  tlH  neccBsit;  of  on;  eiLtended  nana- 

BuniB  iet  out  for  Edinburgh  in  tbe  month 
of  November,  1788.  He  was  fumisheti  witli 
a  letter  of  uitrndiiction  to  D(.  Blacilock 
(53),  from  the  gentlemaa  to  whom  the  doctor 
had  addressed  the  letter  which  is  repreaeated 
by  our  b&rd  u  the  immediote  cause  of  his 
Tisitii]^  thfl  Scottish  metropolis.  He  was 
icqaainted  with  Mi.  SteivacE,  Professor  of 
Moral  Philosophy  ui  the  ui  " "  '-  "  * 
had  been  entertained  b;  that  _ 
Catrine,  his  estate  in  Ayrshire.  He  had 
been  introduced  by  Mr.  Alexander  Dakeil 
(54)  to  tlie  Eart  of  Glencaim,  who  had  ex- 
pressed bis  h>gh  approbation  of  hia  poetical 
talents.  He  had  friends,  thnefore,  who 
could  intnxlnce  him  into  the  dreles  of  lite- 
rature as  well  as  of  fkahion,  and  his  own 
manners  and  appearance  ejceediiig  every 
expectation  that  could  have  been  formed  of 
tliem.  he  soon  became  an  object  of  Rene 
curiosity  and  admiraiiou,  (55)   ITiefollowi 

Biderable  deeree ! — At  the  time  when  Bui 
arrived  io  Ldinbur^b,  the  periodical  pap  , 
entitled  The  Lounger,  was  publishing'.  e\ery 
Saturday  producing  a  aiuxesdive  uumber. 
His  poems  had  atCrncteil  the  notice  of  the 
j:entleinen  engaged  in  that  undertaking,  and 
the  ninety-seventh  number  of  thpaeunequal, 
though  frequently  beautiful  essays,  is  devoted 
to  An  AccuuDt  of  Bohect  Bums,  the  Ayrahue 
Ploughman,  with  extracts  from  liis  Poems, 
written  by  the  elegant  pen  ofMr.  Mackeozie. 
The  Loooger  had  an  extensive  circulation 

in  Scotland  only,  but  in  varioui  parts  of 
England,  to  whose  acquaintance,  th»efore, 
our  bard  was  immediately  introduced.  Tiia 
paper  of  Mr.  Mackenaie  was  calculated  to 
introduce  him  advantsgeonsly.  llie  extract! 
are  well  selected ;  the  criticisms  and  refleo- 
fioua  are  j'jdidous  as  well  as  generous;  Kid 
n  the  style  and  sentiments  there  is  that 
happy  dehcacy,  by  which  the  writings  of  the 
author  are  so  eminently  distinguished.  ITie 
eiLtracts  ttam  liums's  poems  in  the  nioety- 
aeventh  number  of  The  Lounger,  were  copied 
into  the  London  as  well  as  into  many  of  the 
provincial  papers,  and  the  lame  of  our  bard 
spread  throughout  the  island.  Of  the 
maonera,  character,  and  conduct  of  Burns  at 
this  period,  the  followii^  account  has  beat 
given  by  Mr.  Stewart,  Professor  of  Moral 
Philosophy  in  the  University  of  Edinburgh, 


T,  before 


on  the  23rd  of  October,  1786,  when  hedhied 
at  my  house  in  Ayrshire,  tt^ther  with  out 
common  friend  Mr.  John  Mackeniie,  surgeon 
in  Maiichline.  to  whom  I  am  mdehted  for  the 
pleasure  of  his  acquaintance.  I  am  enabled 
to  mention  the  date  particularly,  by  soma 
verses  which  Bums  wrote  after  he  returned 
home,  and  in  which  the  day  of  our  meeting 
is  recorded.  Myexcellent  and  much  lamented 
friend,  the  late  BasU,  Lord  Daer,  happened 
to  arrive  at  Catrine  the  same  day,  and  by 

left  an  impressiao  on  the  mind  of  the  poet 
which  was  never  effaced.  (56)  The  verses  I 
allude  to  are  among  the  moat  imperfect  of 
his  pieces ;  but  a  few  stanias  may  perhaps 
be  an  object  of  curiosity  to  you,  both  on 
account  of  the  chuacter  to  which  they  relate, 
and  of  the  light  which  thev  throw  on  tha 
situation  and  feelii^s  of 

I  cannot  positively  aay,  at  this  distance  o( 
time,  whether,  at  the  period  of  one  first 
acquaintance,  the  Kilmarnock  edition  of  bia 
poems  had  been  just  published,  or  was  yet 
m  the  press.  I  suspect  that  the  latter  was 
the  cas^  as  I  have  still  in  my  possession 
copies  in  his  own  handwritiug  of  some  of  his 
fiiTourilfl  performances ;  parricularly  of  his 
verses  On  Turning  ap  a  Mouse  with  his 
Plough;  on  the  Uountwn  Dmsy  ;  and  The 
Lament.  On  my  return  to  Edinburgh,  I 
showed  the  volume,  and  mentioned  what  I 
knew  of  the  author's  history  to  several  of 
my  friends ;  and  among  othras  to  Mr.  Henry 
Mackenrie,  who  Krst  recommended  him  to 
public  notice  in  tlie  Q7th  number  of  The 

"  At  this  time  Bums'*  prospects  in  lifh 
were  so  extremely  gloomy,  that  he  had 
aeriously  formed  a     '-     '     " '  " 


withou 


"  His  manners  were  then,  as  they  continued 
ever  afterwards,  simple,  manly,  and  inde- 
peudenl ;  strongly  eipressive  of  conscions 
genius  and  worth,  bnt  without  any  thing  that 
indicated  forwardness,  arrogance,  or  vanity. 
He  took  his  share  in  conversation,  but  not 
more  than  belonged  to  him  ^  and  listened 
uiih  apparent  attention  and  defercm^e  on 


.    and  accommodatioii 


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EUENS  VISITS 

I  thmb,  hire  been  atill  rttare  interesting; 
but  he  hod  been  flccuatomed  to  ^ye  lav  m 
the  eitcle  othis  ordinary  aoiiiBintiincfi;  and 
hia  dread  of  anj  thju?  approaching  to  mean- 

what  decided  and  iiird.  Nothing,  perliaps 
was  mora  rematlfable  among  his  various  at- 
tainm  than  the  Bueucy,  and  preciaion. 
Bad  n  DuliCy  ol  his  laogui^,  nliea  he 
p  k  company ;  more  particularly  i 
aimed        purity  in  bis  tnm  of  eipre 


Phra        ... 

H  game  to  Edinburgh  esriy  in  the  winter 

f      wu  ^    and  remained  there  for  several 

m  n  h        By  nboae  advice  he  took 

lep       m  unable  to  say.    Peilia^  it 

ay       d  only  by  bia  ovn  curiosity  to  ( 

■  •     •    t,  t  confei 


dd 


h  old  CO 


that  hia  pursi 

le  the  same  as  in 

■ "      ■  )  additii 


I  and 


uidered  as  then  complelely  within 

a  pATt  of  the  CL>antry  agreeable  to  hia  laate. 
"  The  attentions  he  received  during  his  stay 
in  town  fcom  all  ranka  and  ^i^ptiona  of 
persou),  were  auch  a>  would  have  turned 
any  head  but  hia  own.  I  cannot  say  that  I 
eonld  perceive  any  nnfavouroble  effect 
which  they  IcR  on  hia  mind,  lis  retained 
the  same  simplicity  of  manners  and  ap- 
pearance which  had  struck  me  so  forcibly 


EDISBURQH.  E9 

happiness  and  the  wortli  which  they  con- 

"In  his  political  prinriplesbe  was  then  a 

to  thia,  that  hia  father  was  originally  from 
the  estate  of  Lord  MarescliaL  Indeed,  he 
did  not  appear  to  have  thought  much  on 
such  aubjecta,  nor  very  consietenily.  He 
had  a  very  strong  sense  of  religion,  and  ei- 

tresscd  deep  regret  at  the  levity  with  which 
e  had  heard  it  treated  occasionally  in  aome 
convivial  meetings  which  he  frequented.    I 

1 786-7 ;  for  after  wards  we  met  but  seldom, 
and  oor  conversations  turned  chiefly  on  his 
literary  projects,  or  hia  private  aflaira. 

"I  donoc  recollect  whether  it  appears  or 
not  from  any  oC  your  letters  to  me.  that 
you  liad  ever  seen  Buma.(S7)  Ifyouhave, 
It  is  Buperiluous  for  me  to  add,  that  the 
ides  which  hia  conversation  conveyed  of  the 
powers  of  his  minil,  esceeded,  if  possible, 
that  which  ia  suggested  by  hia  writings. 
Dug  the  poets  whom  !  have  happened  to 
know,  1  have  been  struck,  in  more  than  one 
instance,  with  the  unaccountable  disparity 
between  their  general  talents,  and  the  occa- 

momenta.  But  all  the  facilities  ot  Bums's 
mind,  were,  as  fer  as  I  could  judge,  equally 
vigorous !  and  his  predilection  for  poetry 
was  rather  the  result  of  hia  own  enthusiastic 
and  irapaasioned  temper,  than  of  a  genius 
esclaaively  adapted  to  that  species 


first  , 


Prom 


1  I  should 


did  he  seem  to  kel  any  adihtionol  ae 
porlance  from  the  number  and  rank  of  his 
new  acquaintance.  His  dresa  was  perfectly 
suited  to  hia  station,  plain  and  unpretend- 

If  1  recollect  right,  he  always  wore  boots ; 
and,  when  on  mote  than  usual  ceremony, 
buctakin  breeches, 

"  The  ■rariety  of  his  engagements,  while  in 
Edinburgh,  prevented  me  from  seeing  him 
■o  often  as  I  could  have  wished.  In  the 
course  of  the  spring,  he  called  ou  me  ouce 
or  twice,  at  my  request,  early  in  tlie  morn- 
ing, and  waited  with  me  to  Braid  Hills,  in 
the  neighbourhood  of  the  town,  when  he 


"Among  the  subjects  on  which  iie  was 
accustomed  to  dwell,  the  characters  of  the 
individuals  with  whom  he  happened  to  meet, 
was  plainly  a  fiivourite  one.    The  remarks 

pointed,  though  fteqaently  indining  too 
much  to  sarcasm.  His  pr^se  of  those  he 
loved  was  sometimes  indiscriminate  and 
eitravagant ;  but  this,  I  suspect,  proceeded 
rather  rathM  from  the  caprice  and  humour 
of  the  moment,  than  from  the  etfects  of 
attacliment  in  bhnding  his  judgment.  His 
wit  was  ready,  and  always  impressed  with 
(he  marks  of  a  vigoinus  understanding ;  but, 
to  my  taste,  not  ofMn  pleasing  or  happy. 


^collect  once  he  told 
n  I  was  admiring  a  distant  prospect 

nany  smoking  cottages  gave  a  pleasure 
lis  mind,  which  none  could  unilerstajid    i 
had  not  witnessed,  hka  himself,  the    ' 


woila,  arc  tl 


produced  totally  unworthy  of 
ar  1787, 1  passed  some  weeks 


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LIFE  OF  BTJRMS. 


■ion  that  season  to  the  Highlands,  aiid  CliU 
hfl  also  Tlsited  wh&t  Beattte  call^  the  Area- 
dun  groUDd  of  Scotland,  upon  the  banks  of 
the  Tevioe  and  the  Tweed. 

vithstanding  various  reports  1  heard  donngr 
the  preceding  winter,  of  Buma's  predilection 
for  convivial,  and  not  very  «le<£  society,  I 
should  have   concluded  in  &vour  of  his 

fell  under  my  own  observation.    He  Cold  me 

to  deprive  him  entirely 
3  tempetanee.    I  vioa, 
However,  aouiewnat  alarmed  about  the  effect 
of  his  nan  comparatively  sedentary    and 

first  night  he  spent  in  my  house  after  his 
winter's  campaign  in  town,  that  he  had 
been  much  disturbed  when  in  beil.  by  a 
palpitariou  at  his  heart,  which,  he  said,  was 
a  complaint  to  which  he  had  of  late  hecooie 


[n  thecc 


ason,  I  w 


kdhy  curiosity  to  Bl 
u  Mason  Lodge  in  Mauddiae,  where  Bnrus 
preuded-  ile  had  occa^on  to  make  some 
short  uopremeditated  compliments  to  differ- 
ent individuob from  vhim  lie  tud  no  Tcason 
to  espeot  &  visit,  and  everytuing  he  said 
'ived,  and  forcibly  as  ivell 


.    Ifl< 


in  that  vilkge,  before  goia; 
to  £dinburgh,  he  had  belonged  to  a  small 
dob  of  such  of  tha  mhabitants  as  hud  a 
taste  for  books,  vhen  they  used  to  converse 
and  debate  on  any  interesting  qneations  that 
occurred  to  them  in  tlie  course  of  their 
readuig.  His  manner  of  speaking  in  public 
bad  evidently  the  marks  of  some  practice  in 
AKtempore  elocutioo. 


s    of   tl 


,  the  C! 


focihty  Bud  good-nature  of  his  taste,  in 
judging  of  the  compositions  of  oihers 
where  there  was  any  real  gronnd  for  praise 
I  repeated  to  him  many  passages  of  English 
poetry  with  which  he  was  unacquainted,  and 
bave  rnore  tl&n  once  witnessed  the  tears  of 
adimraljon  and  rapture  will)  which  he  heard 
(liem.  The  collection  of  songs  by  Dr. 
Aikiu,  which  I  lirst  put  into  lus  hands,  lie 
lead  nith  unmiied  ddight,  notwithstanding 
his  former    efforts   in    that    very  dilliouit 

roes  of  writing ;  and  I  have  little  doubt 
t  it  had  some  effect  in  polislung  his  auh- 
Eequeut  compositions. 

"  In  judging  of  prose,  I  do  not  think  his 
taste  was  equally  sound.    I  oace  read  to 


a  passage  or  two  in  Franklin's  work! 
I  I  thought  very  happily  enecutei 
the  model  of  Addison ;  but  he  did  n< 


Lted. 


which  they  derived  from  their  eii^iiisite 
simplicity,  and  spote  of  them  with  indilfe- 
rence,  when  compared  with  the  point,  and 
antitheus,  and  quaintnesa  of  Juiuus.  Ths 
iuBuence  of  tliis  taste  is  very  percei)tible  in 
■"■ -  ipositious,  although  thrar 


Mcelleno 


of   them  scarcely  leas  objects  of  « 


"  His  memory  was  uncommonly  retendve, 
at  least  for  poetry,  of  which  he  recited  to  m^ 
ireiueutly  long  i^impasitions  with  the  most 
minute  accuracy.  They  were  chieHy  balUds, 
and  other  pieces  in  our  Scottish  dialect  j 
great  part  of  them,  ha  told  ma,  ho  had 
reirued  in  his  childhood  tram  ins  mother, 
who  delighted  in  such  recitations,  and  whose 
poetical  taste,  rude  as  it  probably  was,  gave, 
it  is  presumable,  the  first  directiou  to  iiei 

"  Ot  the  more  polished  verses  which  acd- 
dentaliy  fell  iaCo  hb  hands  in  his  early 
years,  he  mentioned  particularly  the  recom- 
mendatory poems  by  different  authors,  pre. 
died  to  liervey's  Meditations ;  a  hook 
which  has  always  had  a  very  wide  circula- 
tion among  such  of  the  country  people  of 
^Scotland  as  affect  to  unite  some  degree  of 
taste  with  tlieir  reUgious  studies.  And 
these  poems  [although  they  are  certunly 
below  mediocrity)  he  continued  to  rend  with 
a  d^ree  of  rapture  beyond  espression.  lie 
:xiok  notice  of  tliis  fact  himself,  us  a  proof 
liow  much  the  taste  is  liable  to  be  iiiflu- 
>^noed  hy  accidental  circumslances. 

"  ills  Either  appeared  to  me,  tirom  the 
^count  ho  gave  of  him,  to  have  heeu  a 
respectable  and  worthy  character,  possessed 
of  a  mind  supraior  to  wluiE  might  have  been 
expected  from  his  station  in  MSB.  He  as- 
cribed much  of  his  own  prindples  and  feel, 
inga  to  the  early  impressions  he  hadrecraved 
from  his  instructions  and  example.  I  reo^ 
lei*  that  he  once  applied  to  hm  (and,  ha 
added,  that  the  passage  was  a  literal  state- 
ment of  tha  feet)  the  two  last  hnes  of  iha 
following  passage  in  the  Minstrel,  the  whole 
of  which  be  repeated  with  great  enthusiasm ; 


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IITEBAET  EECEPnON  OF  B 


41 


iMppotntiiifnl,  pEmnrf ,  and 


umphanl  relfni.  [raughl : 

This  troth    sui/miB  hia  limp/e  lire  hid 
In  sof/iht  *licat  almost  ati  the  thep&frd 

"With  respect  to  Burns'scartyeduiatioii, 
I  omnot  say  snytbtng  with  certainty.  l!e 
tdwiys  spolie  iriEh  respect  >nd  gratitude  of 
tlie  achoolmaater  who  had  tauf-ht  him  to 
tend  English,  aiidnho,  finding  in  h»  sdiolar 
s  more  than  ordinar)'  ardour  for  knowledge, 
Iiad  been  at  pains  to  instruct  him  in  the 
erammatiittl  priniaples  of  the  language.  He 
be^n  the  study  of  latin,  hot  dropt  it 
before  he  had  finished  tlie  \-erba.  I  iuae 
■ometimet  heard  him  quote  a  lew  lutin 
words,  such  as  omnin  oiniiii  amor,  Sx.,  hut 
they  seemed  to  he  such  as  he  hud  caught 

by  role,  I  think  he  had  a  project.  afi«c  he 
came  to  Edinburgh,  of  prosecuting  tlie 
study  under  his  intimate  friend,  the  late 
Mr.  Kicol,  one  of  the  masiera  of  tlve  gram- 
he  ever  proceeded  so  f^  as  to  make  ttie 


iurpriM,  at  tJie  diatiiict  conception  lie  ap- 
peared from  it  to  have  finmed  of  the  genenl 
principles  of  the  doctriiie  of  Bstoi^lion."  (60) 
The  scene  that  opened  on  our  bard  in 
Edinburgh  was  alt<«etber  new,  and  in  a 
lariety  of  other  respects  highly  interesting. 


especially  to 


uddenly    f 


■anslaled  from  the 
"  into  the  presence, 
and.  maeeu,  fuio  cne  society,  of  a  number 
of  persons,  previously  known  to  him  by 
renort  as  of  the  highest  distinction  in  bis 
ntry,  and  whose  charactras  itwas  naturoj 


-  ity.(6i) 

From  the  men  of  letters,  in  general,  his 
reception  was  particidarly  flattering.  The 
late  Dr.  Bobertson.  Dr.  Blair,  ]>r.  Gregory, 
Mr,  Steaart,  Mr.  Mai^ensie,  and  Mr.  Eraser 
Tj-fler,  may  he  mentioned  in  the  list  of 

acknowledged    more    es^^ially    his 


nowe 


the    • 


10  interested 


tempt. 


possible  that 
mi^t  be  mo 


.  smattering  of 


intimate  acrguaiiitance.  It  would  be  worth 
while  to  inqnue,  whether  he  was  able  to 
read  the  French  authors  nitb  such  &cility 
as  to  recave  from  them  any  improvement 
tfl  his  (aste.  For  my  own  part,  I  doubt  it 
much ;  nor  would  I  believe  it,  but  on  yery 
atrong  and  pointed  evidence. 

well  instructed  in  arithmetic,  and  knew 
something  of  practical  geometry,  particu- 
lariy  of  suneying.    All  his  other  attaiii- 

"  ITie  last  time  I  saw  him  was  daring  the 
wheu  he  passed  an 
b    Dntmseu^h, 
dinbui^'"    ■■'  ■ 
living.    My  friend,  J 


Our  hard  'xas  an  acceptable  guest  k.  .... 
gayest  and  most  elevated  circles,  and  fte- 
quently  received  fVom  female  beauty  and 
elegance  those  attentions  above  ail  others 
most  grateful  to  hhn.  (53)  At  the  table  of 
l/ai  Monboddo  lie  was  a  frequent  guest  j 
and  while  he  enjoyed  the  sodety,  and  par- 
took of  the  hnspitaUlies  of  the  Tenerable 
judge,  he  eipcrienced  the  kindness  and  con- 
descension of  bis  lov^y  and  accomplished 
daiigbter.  The  singidar  beauty  of  this 
young;  lady  was  illmainatfid  by  that  happy 

superior  understi 
tions  of  the  mind.  The  influenCB  of  such 
attractions  was  not  unfelt  by  our  poet 
"There  has  not  been  anything  like  Miss 
Burnet,"  said  he  in  a  letter  to  a  friend,  "in 
all  the  combination  of  beauty,  grace,  aad 

Milieu's  Eve  on  the  first  dav  <i  her  ejist>- 
ence."  In  his  Address  to  Edinburgh,  she 
is  celebrated  in  a  strain  of  still  greater 

■■  Fair  Burnet  strikes  th'  odoming  eje. 


tivated   taste   and 


pteaeut  which  Mr.  Alison  sent  him  after- 
wards of  his  Essays  on  Taste,  drew  from 
Bums  B  letter  of  acknowledgment,  which  I 
Rmembet  to  have  read  with  soioe  degree  of 


Tills  lovely  woman  died  a  tew  years 
wards  in  the  flower  o(  youth.  Oui 
eipressed  his  sensibility  on  tiiat  oc 
in  verses  addressed  to  her  memory. 


Ho,t,db,  Google 


LIFE  OP  BURHS. 


Among  the  men  of  rank  and  -^hion, 
Barns  wos  potticularly  diatiiiguished  by 
Jimea,  Eurl  d!  Glencairn.  <<il)  On  the 
motion  of  this  nohleman,  the  Caledcmfim 
Hunt,  an  Msociation  of  the  ptindpal  of  the 
mobility  aiid  gentry  of  Scotland,  extended 
&ai  patronage  to  our  bard,  aiid  admitted 
him  to  their  pay  oi^es.  He  repaid  their 
notice  by  a  dedication  of  the  enlarged  and 
improved  edition  of  hie  poems,  in  which  he 
has  celebrBt*i  thdr  patriotiam  and  iodepen- 

"I  cjngTBtulate  my  country  that  the  Wood 
of  het  ancient  heroes  mns  uncontaminated, 
tmd  that,  from  your  courflgfl,  knowledge,  and 
public  epint,  ahe  may  eipeet  protection, 
wealth,  and  liberty.  •••»-■• 
May  cfHTuptiaa  abiink  at  your  kindhng  in- 
dignant glance;  and  may  tyranny  in  the 
ruler,  and  licentiousness  in  the  people, 
eqnaily  find  in  you  an  inexorable  toe." 

It  is  to  be  presumed  that  theie  ^raeroua 
tentimenta,  uttered  at  an  era  emgularly 
propitious  to  independence  of  character  and 
conduct,  were  favourably  recnved  by  tlie 
persona  to  whom  they  were  addressei  and 
that  they  were  echoed  from  every  bosom,  as 
Tell  as  from  that  of  the  Earl  of  Glencalm. 
^ia  accomplished  nobleman,  a  scholar,  a 
nan  of  taste  and  aeusibility,  died  soon 
afterwards.  Had  he  hved,  and  had  his 
power  equalled  his  wishes,  Scotland  migl;t 
■till  have  eiulted  in  the  ^nius,  instead  of 
lamenting  the  early  ^e  of  her  fiivourite 

A  tiiste  tor  letters  is  not  always  conjoined 
with  haldts  of  temperance  and  regularity ; 
md  Edinbui^,  aC  the  period  of  which  we 
•peak,  cotitainal,  perhaps,  an   unoimmon 

devoir.-'  to  social  eicesses.  in  which  tlieir 
talents  were  wasted  and  debased. 

Bums  entered  into  several  patties  of  this 
description,  nith  the  usual  Tehemwice  of  his 


-     -  ,    and  a- 

eonveraatian  of  unlimited  rai^,  and  to  festive 
indulgences  that  acomed  restr^t,  he  gra- 
dually loat  Eome  portion  of  his  relish  for  tha 
more  pure,  hut  less  poi^ant  pleasures,  to  be 
ibund  in  the  ciiclea  of  taate,  elegance,  and 
literatiu'C  Thia  sudden  alteration  in  his 
habits  of  life  operated  on  him  physically  as 
weU  as  morslly.  The  humble  Ate  of  an 
Ayrahire  peasant  he  had  exchanged  for  the 
hixuriea  of  the  Scottish  metropolis,  and  the 
eSccta  of  thia  change  on  his  ardent  constiin- . 
tiou  could 


mthat  might 


hiao 

reflection.  He  saiv  his  danger,  and  at  times 
^rmed  resolutions  to  guard  ag^nst  it ;  but 
he  had  embarked  on  the  tide  of  diasipatioo, 
and  was  borne  along  its  stream. 

Of  the  state  of  lus  mind  at  this  time,  an 
authentic,  though  imperfect,  document  re. 
maiiia,  in  a  book  which  he  procured  m  the 
spring  of  17S7,  for  the  purpose,  ea  be  himself 
informs  ua,  of  recording  in  it  whatever 
seemed  worthy  of  observalioa-  The  following 
extracts  may  serve  as  a  specimen : — 

"Ediniu^k,  AprU  9, 1787. 

"  Aa  I  have  seen  a  good  deal  of  hnmaa 
life  in  Eilinbuiwh,  a  great  many  character* 

of  hfe  as  I  have  been,  1  am  determined  to 
take  down  my  remarks  on  the  spot.  Gray 
observes,  in  a  letter  to  Mr.  Palgrave,  that 
'  half  a  word  Sied  upon,  or  near  the  spot,  is 


ivlth  n 


with  tl 


world  in 


solitary  pleasu: 
to  laugh  with  me,  sooieonetobc  gravewith  me, 
some  one  to  please  me  and  help  my  discrimi- 
nation, with  his  or  her  own  remark,  and  at 

penetration.  The  world  ate  ao  busied  with 
selfish  pursuits,  aiubitiun,  vanity,  interest,  or 
pleasure,  that  very  few  think  it  worth  their 
while  to  make  any  observation  on  what 
passea  around  them,  except  where  that  ob- 
servation is  a  aucker,  or  branch  of  the  darling 
plant  they  are  rearing  in  their  fancy.  Nor 
am  I  sure,  notwithstanding  all  the  aenti- 
menlal  flights  of  novel-writers,  and  the  sage 
philosophy  of  moralists,  whether  we  ate 
capableof so -■-"--'-   "'  - 


id  cordial  a 


hia  bosom,  his  every  thought  aiid  floating 
fenny,  his  very  mmost  soul,  with  unreserved 
eoniiiience  to  another,  without  hazard  of 
losing  part  of  that  respect  which  man  deserrea 
from  man;  or,  from  the  unavoidable  impo- 
fections  attending  human  nature,  of  oi^e  day 
repenting  hia  confidence. 

"  For  these  reasons  I  am  determined  to 
make  these  pages  my  confidant.   I  will  eketih 

the  best  of  my  power,  with  unshrinking 
justice.  I  will  insert  anecdotes,  and  lake 
down  remarks,  in  the  old  law  phrase,  ujiEAcul 


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HUENS  AND  HIS  CONTEMPORAEIES. 


fiad  or  frnmr.      Wliere  I  bit  gn  onj 
clever,  my  own  t^plouae  will  in  aome  m< 
feaat  my  vanity;  and,  begjjiDg  Patroclus' 
and  Achates'  pardon,  1  thhik  a  lock  at 
a  security,  at  least  equal  to  the  bosoia  i 


onslly  in 


lings  purchase 


sethehght. 


pale,ai 

point  of  throwing  aown  mj  gage  d1  oon- 
templuous  deSance ;  hut  he  slwjok  my  hand, 
and  looted  so  benevoleatly  good  at  partiug. 
God  blees  him !  thoi^h  1  should  never  see 
liim  more.  1  shall  love  him  until  my  dying 
day !  I  am  pleased  to  think  I  am  so  capable 
-  -'—-'-'-  --' liserably 


of  the  throes  of  g 


t  £rat  to 


never  did  fo 

ftkndahip,  since  c 

market,  or  honesty  «as  sec  up  to  saie. 

"  To  these  seemingly  invidious,  bat  I 
just  ideas  of   human  friendship,  I  woi 
cheerfully  mate  one  esceijiion — the  conn 
tion  between  two  persona  of  different  sei;    . 
_!._., .!.,;_  ■ ^.  reuniwd  and  absorbed 


.  kindly 
weltbre,  or  alill  more,  wnen  ne 
fiiom  hb  pinuttcle,  and  meeta  ms 
ground  in  oonveisalion,  my  heart 
with  what  is  called  lihing.    When  he  n( 


I.  I 

ioiself  in  my 
be  descenda 


Upslt 


ie  of  love- 
hounhtm- 


s  thought,  er 


Andca 


rneai 


our  points  of  elevation,  I  say  to  myself,  w 
scarcely  any  emotion,  what  dol  care  for.h 


h  springs  r 
re  confidence,  conlidence  that  eialtB  them 
tlie  mote  in  one  another's  opinion,  that  i 
dears  them  the  mure  to  each  other's  heai'ts, 
imiesecvedly 'reigns  and  revels.'    But  this 

wise  (which,  by  the  byc^  I  liave  no  great 
thsiice  of  being),  my  ftte  aliould  be  cas 
with  the  Psalmiat's  sparroiv, '  to  wateh  alam 
on  the  housa  tops."    Oh  tha  pity  I 


"Tlier 


the    ! 


trappi 


irdinary  charactw,  i 


chagrin  than  tlie  comparison  how  a  man  of 
genius,  nay  of  avowed  worth,  ia  received 

_.L___    _^..L  ^i_g  reception  which  a 

r,  decorated  with  the 

11  of  abihtiea,  his 
breast  glowing  with  honest  pridi^  eonsdous 
that  men  are  bom  equal,  stdl  giving  honour 
ta  whom  hnaiar  ia  dse;  he  meets  at  a  great 
man's  table,  a  Squire  aomethina;,  or  a  Sir 
■omehody;  he  knows  the  «oU>  landlord,  at 
heart,  gives  the  baid  ot  whatever  he  is,  a 
share  of  his  good  wishes,  beyond,  periiips. 

him  to  see  a  fellow  whose  abilities  would 
scarcely  have  mode  an  eiffMpettn^  tailor,  and 
whose  heart  is  not  worth  three  farthmgs, 

withheld    from    the  aon   of    genius    and 
poverty! 
-  "The  noble  Glencalmhas  wounded  me  to 
the  soul  here,  because    I    dearly  esteem,  | 
respect,  and  love  him.    He  showed  so  much  ] 


ere  very  imperfectly  esecuted.  He  has 
sorted  in  it  few  or  no  inudenla,  but  seve- 
ral observations  and  reflections,  of  whidi 
bhe  greater  part  that  are  proper  for  the 

Kubbc  eye  witt  be  found  interwoven  in  his 
^lera,  Tlie  moat  curious  psrticulara  in 
tlie  book  ate  the  ilelineations  of  the  charac- 

lut  they  are  cliiefly  of  persons  of  diatino- 
^ion  in  the  republic  of  letters,  and  nothing 
lut  the  delicacy  and  respect  dne  to  living 
characters  prevents  us  from  committing 
^hem  to  the  press.    Though  it  appears  that 

>osed  to  sarcastic  remarks  on  the  men  with 
vhom  he  lived,  nothing  of  this  kind  is  dis- 
coverable in  these  more  driiberate  efforts  of 
lis  understanding,  which,  while  they  ejihibit 

also  the  wbh,  as  well  as  the  power,  to 
and  generous  praise, 

give  the  characta  of  Dr.  Blaii,  who  has 

paid  the  debt  of  nature,  in  the  full 

idnice  that  this  freedom  will  not  he 
found    inconsistent  with  the  respect  and 

ast  stir  in  (he  literary  consCclhttion,  by 
vbich  the  metropolis  of  Scotlaml  was,  in 
;he  earlier  part  of  the  present  reign,  ao 


e  onlyuockhead  ai 


alile  (the  w 


Blair  is  merely  an  astonishing  proof  of 
what  industry  and  application  can  do, 
I  Natural  pana  hke  his  are  frequently  to  be 


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met  with ;  his  ™mty  is  ptoverbially  known 
■mong  hia  acqiuiiitJuiM  i  but  he  is  justly  at 
the  head  of  wfat  may  be  called  fliie  nritiiig ; 
sad  a  critic  ol  the  lint,  tlie  very  first,  rank 

making  can  only  take  the  pas  of  hi?  He 
has  a  heart  not  of  the  very  finest  water,  but 

he  is  truly  a  nortby  and  moat  respectable 
character." 

[Mr.  Cromek  mronna  ua  that  one  of  the 

life  and  tlie  polite  world,  he  observed  tittle 
difference ;  that  in  the  former,  thungh  un- 
polished by  fashion  and  unenlirfiteiied  by 
science,  he  had  found  much  observation, 
and  much  mtelligence ;  but  a  re&ied  and 
accomplished  woman  was  a  thing  almost 
h  he  hid  ' 


LIFE  OP  BUENS. 

afic.  Bums  urged  him  to  bring  forwanl 


e  made  several  aliempls  t< 
lera,  but  always  m  a  blundering,  inaccurate 
aimer.  Eurns  bore  ail  this  for  a  good 
bile  with  his  uaiud  good-natured  forbear- 
ice,  till  at  iHigtb,  goaded  by  tlie  fastidions 
jticisms  and  wretched  quibblings  of  hia 
ipooent,  ha  ivused  himself,  and  with  an 
v  flashing  contempt  and  indignation,  and 


"To  pasa  from 
a,"  aaya  Mr.  Lodatt,  "  it  needa 
f  imagination  to  concave  what 


im,  and  of  which  hi 


IS  of  at 


lergymen 


^ssors) 


Mr.  Lockbart 


Bums  was  mnch  more  a  bvouriCe  amongst 
the  female  than  the  male  part  of  elevated 
Edinburgh  society  to  n^ich  he  was  intro- 
duced, and  that  in  consequence,  in  all  pro- 
bahihty,  of  the  greater  delercnce  lie  p^d  to 
the  gentler  aei.  "  It  is  suHiciently  apparent," 
adds  Mr.  L.,  "  that  tiiere  were  mauy  poiua 
in  Bnms's  conversational  habits,  which 
men,  accuatomed  to  the  delicate  obanvancea 
of  tcSued  society,  might  be  more  willing 
to  tolerate  under  the  first  eicitanent  of 
personal  curiosity,  than  from  any  very  de- 
liberate eetim^e  of  the  claims  of  such  a 
geniua^  under  such  circumstances  developed. 
He  by  no  means  restricted  his  aarcasljc 
observations  on  l^ose  whom  he  encountered 

book,  bat  startled  eara  poUte  with  the 
utterance  of  audacious  epigrams,  far  too 
witty  not  to  obtain  general  circulation  in 
3  that  of  the  northern 
er  not  to  produat  deep 

fear  almost  as  widely  as  admiration."  An 
eiample  of   lus    unscmpnlouaness  is  thus 

EBU  by  Mr,  Cromek.  '*  At  a  private 
akfast,  in  a  literary  circle  of  Edinburgh, 
the  conversatiou  turned  on  the  poetical 
merit  and  pathos  of  Oniy's  Elegy,  a  poem 
of  which  he  was  enthusiastically  foni  A 
vtergjinan  present,  remarlmhle  for  hia  love 
Iff  paradox,  and  for  his  eccentric  notions 
jtpon  every   subject,  distinguished  hims^ 


boned,  black-browed,  brawny  stranger,  with 
his  great  dashing  eyes,  who  having  forced  hia 
way  among  them  from  the  plough-tail,  at  a 
single  stride,     manifested,    in    the    whole 


ciely  of  t 


:  most  eminent  men  of  hi 


tapital.  (ar  t< 


this  eisquisile  poem,  which  Ban 
eeuerona  warmth  for  the  reput 
Gray,  manfully  defended.  As  thj 
man's  lemaiks  were  rather  gene 


with 


tided  to  be;  hardly  denned  to  Batter  them 
by  exhibiting  even  an  uccasioiial  symptom 
of  h^iig  Mattered  by  then'  notice ;  fay  lurnA 
calmly  meaanred  himself  against  the  most 
cultivated  undentaudiu°;9  of  his  time  m 
diseuaaioii;  overpowered  the  ban  mela  of 
the  most  celebrated  conviviahata  by  broad 
floods  of  merriioent,  impregnated  with  all 
the  burning  life  of  genius;  astounded 
bosoms  liabitnally  enveloped  in  Uie  thrice- 
plied  fohls  of  aoirfol  reserve,  by  compelling 
them  to  tremble,  nay.  to  tremble  visibly, 
beneath  the  fearless  touch  of  natural  pathos ; 

willingness  to  be  tanked  among  those  pro- 
fessional mhiisters  of  eicitemeot,  who  are 
content  to  be  paid  in  money  and  smiles  for 
doing  what  the  spectators  and  auditor! 
would  be  ashamed  of  doing  in  their  o^vji 
persona,  even  if  they  had  the  power  of  doing 
it ;  and,  last,  and  probably  worst  of  al^ 
who  was  known  to  be  in  the  habit  of  enh- 
vening  societies  which  they  tvould  have 
scor  .ed  to  approach,  effll  more  frequently 

magi.iScent;  with  >ivit  in  all  likelihood  still 

whom  he  &>nted  without  alarm,  might  have 
guessed  from  the  bcgmning.  and  had.  ere 
long,  no  occasion  to  gneas,  with  wit  pointed 
at  themselves."] 
"  By  the  uew  edition  of  bis  poems,  (65) 


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Burns  «qiured  ■  mm  of  money  thst 
cusbled  him  not  oiilj  to  partake  of  Che 
pleasures  of  Edinburgh,  but  Co  gratify  a 
desire  he  liad  long  enterCained,  of  viaiunj 
those  parts  of  his  native  coiuitrj  moat  nt- 
tractise  by  ihcir  beauty  or  their  grandeur ; 
a  desire  which  the  retuni  of  anmmer  natu- 
ral; revived.  The  scenery  on  the  banks  of 
the  Tweed,  and  of  its  trihutory  icreams, 
Bttongly  iiilCTesled  his  fencyi  and  accord- 
ingly he  left  Edinburgh  on  the  Gth  of  Ma;, 
1737,  on  a  fimr  through  a  conntry  ao  much 
cekbraled  in  the  rural  songs  of  Scotland. 
He  travelled  on  horseback,  and  was  accom- 
panied, during  some  pare  of  hia  jonrney,  by 

gentleman  nho  enjoyed  much  of  his  fricnd- 
thip  and  of  hia  coiifidence.    Of  this  tour  a 


only 


_ ..  chiefly  occupied  with  an  accoiinC  of 

the  anchor's  different  stages,  and  ivich  his 

whom  he  was  introduced.  In  the  course  of 
this  tour  he  visited  Mr.  Ainslie  of  Betry%vell, 
the  fether  of  his  companion ;  Mr.  Br;  done, 
the  celebrated  ttavellet,  to  whom  he  carried 
a  letter  of  introduction  from  lit.  :Mackeu- 
lis ;  the  Rev.  Dr.  Somerville  of  Jedbu^h, 
the  historian ;  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Scoci  of 
Wauciiope;  Dr.  SlUott,       '     ' 


lUott,  a  physic 


Boole ;  Sir  Alexander  Don ;  Sir  James  Hall 
of  Dunglass ;  and  a  great  variety  of  other 
respectable  charsclers.  Ev«y  where  Che 
feme  of  the  poet  bad  spread  before  him, 
mi  every  where  he  received  the  most  bos- 
nitabte  and  flattering  attentions,  AC  Jed- 
burgh he  continued  several  days,  and  was 
honoured  by  tlie  magistrates  with  the  free- 
dom of  their  borough.    The  foUowino;  may 

perpetual  reference  to  living  chuaeCeia  pre- 
lents  our  giving  at  lai^ ; — 

"  Saturday,  Hay  614.  Left  Edmburgb— 
lammer-muir- hills,  miserably  dreary  in  ge- 
ueral,  buC  at  Cimes  very  picturesiiue, 

"  lanaon-ed^,  a  glorions  now  of  the 
Merae,  Rea<^  Berrywcll.  •  •  • 
The  family  meeting  with  my  compojnoB  de 
voygge,   very    ch^^ng;    particularly  the 

"  Sunday.    Went  to  Church  at  Dunse. 


dme  at  Coldstream  uith  Mr,  AinsUe  and 
Mr.  Foreman,  Beat  Mr.  Foreman  in  a 
dispute  ahoaC  Toltaire.  Drink  l«a  at  Lenel- 
UouaewithSIr.  audMrs.  IJiydoue.*     •    ' 


Reception  evtremely  flattering.  Bleep  at 
Coldstream. 

"  Taeaday.  Breakfast  at  Kelso— charm, 
inf  ^tuation  of  the  town — fine  bridge  over 
the  Tweed.  Enchanting  views  and  pros- 
jects  on  both  sides  of  the  river,  espedollj 
on  the  Scotdk  aide.  •  •  •  Visit 
Rnibu^h  Palace  —  fine  sitoation  of  ic 
Ruins  of  Bojhui^h  Castle— a  holly-bnah 
growing  where  Jamea  H.  was  accidentally 
killed  by  Che  bursting  of  a  cannon.  A  small 
old  reli^-iou9  ruin,  and  a  Sue  old  garden 

Slanted  by  the  rcli^ons,  rooted  out  and 
e^tmyed  by  a  Hottentot,  a  mailTe  d^holel 
of  the  duke's— climate  and  soil  of  Ber- 
wickshire, and  even  Roxburghshire,  superior 
to  Ayrshire — bad  roads — turnip  and  alieep 
husbandry,  their  great  improvements.  »  ■  " 
Low  markela,  conaequentfy  low  lands — mag- 
nilicenee  of  &rmers  and  farm-houses.  Come 
up  the  TeviaC.  and  np  the  Jed  to  Jedburgh 
to  lie,  and  so  nisli  myielf  good-nighC. 
'*  fFgdnesday.    Brcak^c  wich  Mr,  Fair, 

of  Jedburgh,  with  gardens  and  orchards, 
intermingled  among  the  bonsea  and  the 
ruins  of  a  once  msgniKcicent  cathedraL  All 
the  towns  here  have  the  appearance  of  old 
rude  grandeur,  but  ciLtremely  idle.  Jed,  a 
fine  romantic  Htile  river.  Dined  with 
Captain  Kutlierford,  •  •  •  return  to 
JedbuT^h.  It'alk  up  the  Jed  wich  snme 
ladies  to  be  shown  Love-lane,  and  Black- 
bum,  two  flury-aceiies,  laCmdueed  Co  Mr. 
Potts,  writer,  and  to  Mr.  Somerville,  the 
clergyman  of  the  parish,  a  man  and  a 
gentleman,  but  sadly  addicted  to  puiming. 


"  Took  farewell  of  Jedburgh  with  some 
melancholy  sensations. 

"Monday,  May  I4lh,  Ke£ao,  Dine  with 
the  fiamers'  club—oil  g«itlemen  talking  of 
high  matters — each  of  them  keeps  a  hunter 
ftom  £30  to  f  SO  yalue,and  attends  the  fbi- 
huntmg  club  in  the  county.  6o  out  wich 
Mr.  Ker,  one  of  the  dub,  and  a  fsiimd  of 
Mr.  Ainslie's,  to  sleep.  In  his  mind  and 
manners,  Mr,  Ker  is  astonbhingly  like  my 
frieiul  Robert  Mnii^-every  thing 


panyni 


ui  my  Knglish  to 


He  ofiers  (o  ai 


Don — a  very  wet  day.  •  •  •  Sleep  at 
Mr,  Ker'a  ^ain,  and  aet  out  neit  day  for 
Mehose — visit  Dryburgh,  a  fine  old  ruined 
abbey,  by  the  way.  Cross  tlie  Leader,  and 
come   up   the   Tweed  to   Mekose.    Dim 


Ho,t,db,  Google 


LIFE  OF   BITE'SS. 


there,  »nd  visit  that  ftir-tamed  gli 
ruiii-eome  to  Seltiik  up  the  ban 
Kttnek.  'ITie  whole  lountry  hewal 
both  OQ  Tweed   and  EtCrick,  remukubl; 

Having  spent  threa  weeks  in  eiplotiog 
this  int«rratin(5  sconery.  Bums  ctosaedf" " 
into  NorthumljGrUnd.  Mr.  ger,  and 
Hood,  two  gentlemea  vich  vhoia  he  had 
beeome  atqaMHted  in  the  eontse  of  his  toiir, 
accxnnpauied  him.  He  viutal  Alnwick 
Casde,  the  princely  seit  of  the  Duke 
Northambetiiiid ;  the  Hermitage  and  Old 
C»3tlB  of  Warkworth ;  Hotpeth  and  New- 


aatle. 


days,  and  then  proceeded 
by  Hexom  end  Wardnie.  to  Carlisle.   After 
spending  a  dav  at  Carlisle  with  his  friend 
Mr.  Mitchei,  he  returned  into  Scotland,  and 
at  Annan  hia  journal  terminates  abruptly. 
Of  till         *  .... 


Inflerary — to-morrow  night^s    sta^je,  Dum- 

your  kind  letter,  but  you  know  I  am  a  man 

Part  of  a  letter  from  onr  bard  to  a  friend 


reader  will  be  amuseJ  «ith  the  (oUowii^ 

"On  our  return^  at  a  Highland  gentle- 
man's hospitable  mansion,  we  fell  in  Mich  a 
merry  party,  and  danced  till  the  ladies  left 
us,  at  three  in  the  morning.  Our  dancing 
was  none  of  the  French  or  English  insipid 
formal  movements ;  the  ladies  sang  Scotch 
songs  like  angels,  at  intervals :  then  we  flew 
at  JSab  nl  fSe  lewsttr,  Tatiwhgonim,  Loch 
Erroch  side  (69),  &0,  like  mit^  sporting 
•1  the  motUe  sun,  occtaws  progno-'-  '  "- 


lintal  ii 


that  were  beautiful,  is  what  might  be  con- 
fidently presumed.  Two  of  tliese  are  par- 
ticularly described  in  his  ]  lurnol.  But  it 
dues  nut  appear  that  the  scenery,  or  its  in- 
liabitants,  produced  »x\y  effort  of  his  muse, 
as  was  to  Iiave  been  wished  aud  expected. 
From  Annan,  Burns  proceeded  to  Dumfties, 
aud  thence  throi^h  Sanquliar,  to  ^Tosagiel, 
iieat  Muuchliue,  in  Ayrslure,  where  he 
arrived  about  the  Bth  of  .Tniie,  1787,  after  a 

mouths.  It  will  eaujy  be  conceived  with 
what  pleasure  and  pride  he  was  recraved  by 
hii  motbu',  Ilia  bcotheta.  and  sisters.  He 
had  left  them  poor,  and  comparatively 
iriHidlcas ;  he  returned  to  them  high  in 
public  estimation,  and  easy  in  his  circum- 
Btances  He  returned  to  them  unchanged 
in  his  ardent  affections,  and  read;  to  share 
witb  them  to  the  uttermost  forChing,  the 
pittance  tliat  fortune  had  bestowed.  (67) 

Having  remained  with  them  a  few  diys. 
he  nrocffided  again  to  Edinburgh,  and  im- 
medialely  set  out  on  ■  Journey  to  the 
Highlands.   Of  this  tour  no  particulars  have 


"  I  write  yon  this  on  my  tour  through  n 

savage'  monntains,  thinly  overspread  with 
savage  flocks,  which  starvingly  support  aa 
san^e  inhabitants.     My   hist  stage   waa 


in  a  hairit  day.  When  the  dear 
:  us,  we  ranged  round  the  bowl  till 
KODu-fellow  hour  of  sii ;  escept  a  few 
Ites  that  we  went  out  to  pay  our  devo- 
(  to  the  glorious  lamp  of  day  peering 

the  lowermg  top  of  Beohiraond.  We 
neeled ;  our  worthy  taudlord'a  son  held 
liowt,  each  man  a  full  gkas  iu  his  hand ; 
1,  as  priest,  repeated  some  rbymhig  nou. 
e,  hkc  'lliomas-a-Rhymer^a  propheQes  1 
Kiee.      After  a  small  refreshment  of  the 

of  Somnus,  we  proceeded  to  spend  tLs 
}n  Lochlomoud,  and  readied  Uumbartc 


gaylie  yet.' 


e,  and  cousequ 
re  found  I 


srgood 


My  t- 


Nove 


iDber]3r  down  the  Lodi  side,  till  by  cnma 
I  Highlandman  at  the  gallop,  on  a  tolerably 
good  horse,  but  wlui^  liad  never  known  the 
ornaments  of  iron  or  Icuther.  We  scorned 
to  be  out-galloped  by  a  Highlandman,  so  olf 
wo  started,  whipand  spur.  My  companion^, 
bhough  seemingly  gaily  mounted,  fell  sadlj 
isiem ;  but  my  old  mare,  Jenny  GedJes, 
iae  of  the  Roainante  family,  she  strained 
]nst  the  H^hlandman  in  spite  of  all  his 

|ias»ng  him,  Donald  whcd  si  his  horse,  v  if 

to  cross  before  me  to  mar  my  progress,  h  hen 

down  came  his  horse,  and  threw  liii  breekleas 

■  ■  .  in  a  dipt    lied»e ;   and  down  came 

ly  Geddes  over  all,  Bud  my  hardship 

rcen  her  and  the  Illglihiudman's  hurss. 

ly  Geddes  troda  over  me  with  audi 

ious  revcMncs,  Ihnt  matters  were  not  so 

m  might  well  have  been  expected  ;  so  J 

came  off  witb  a  few  cuts  and  bruises,  and  a 

thorough  resolution  to  b«  a  putteru  (tf  a*- 

briety  for  the  fiitnre. 


Ho,t,db,  Google 


BtlENS  AND  NICOL. 


"I  hSTe  jet  liied  on  nothii^  wttli  respect 
to  Ibe  serious  busiDegs  of  life.  I  em,  just  aa 
nsual,  s  rhyming,   mason-making,  taking, 

vhere  have  a  faini  soon.  I  was  going  to  say, 
■  viSe  too;  but  that  must  never  be  my 
blessed  lot.  I  am  but  a  younger  son  of  tbe 
bouxe  of  Bitnassus,  and,  like  other  yom^ei 
Bona  of  great  femilies,  I  may  intrigue,  3  I 
cbooae  to  run  all  risks,  but  miiat  not  many. 
"I  am  afraid  I  have  almost  ruined  one 
•onrce,  the  ptiiidpal  one,  indeed,  of  ray 
farmer  hsppinesa — that  eternal  propensity  I 
'ove.  My  heart  no 
„  rapture.   1  have  no 

paradisiacal  evening  intervi 


former  happiness — thi 
always  had  to  Ml  ii 


this 


(orld.    1 


Thiskisti , 

has  a  flne  flgure,  and  elegant  manners,  an 
in  the  train  of  some  great  folks  whom  y 
know  has  seen  the  poUtest  qiiarfers 
I  do  like  her  a  good  deal  i   b 


endy 


vmled  her  nhei 

£aa«iuf  regularly  the  intermediate  d^rees 
:tween  the  distant  formal  bow  and  the 
fiundiar  grasp  round  the  waist,  I  ventured, 
in  mj  eirelesa  way,  to  talk  of  friendsliip  in 
rather  ambiguoua  t«ms ;    and,  after   her 

style.  Miss,  cooatouing  my  words  ftitthcr  I 
Bup^iosethan  I  intended,  fltiw  off  in  a  tangent 
nf  female  dignity  end  reserve.like  nmountain- 

plewly  what  an  immense  way  1  harl  to  travel 
before  I  couldreach  the  cliaiate  of  her  brour. 
But  I  am  an  old  hawk  at  the  sport;  and 
wrote  her  such  a  eool,  delil)eraie,  prudent 
reply,  as  brought  my  bird  from  her  aerial 
tuwerings,  pop  down  at  my  toot  like  corporal 
IWm'a  hat.  170) 

"As  for  the  rest  of  my  acts,  and  my  wars, 
and  all  my  wise  sayii^s,  aod  why  my  mare 
waa  called  Jenny  Geddes,  they   sliall  be 

in  (he  chronicles  of  your  memory,  by 

"Robert  Burns." 

Prom  this  journey  Bums  returned  to  hja 

month  of  Jidy,  renewing  his  friendships,  and 
extending  his  acc)uunlance  throughout  the 
country,  where  he  was  now  very  generally 
kno^rif  and  admired    In  August  he  again 


"  Bimis  and  I  left  Edinburgh  together  in 
August,  1787.  We  rode  by  Lingliihgow 
and  Carroo,  to  Stirhng.  We  risiled  the  iron 
works  at  Carron,  ^lith  which  the  poet  was 
forcibly  struck.  The  resemblance  between 
that  place  and  its  inhabitants,  to  the  cave  of 
the  Cydopa,  which  muat  have  occurred  to 
every  classical  reader,  presented  itaeif  to 
Bums.  At  Sibling  Ine  prospects  from  the 
eestle  strongly  interested  him ;  in  a  former 
tiat  to  whWi,  his  national  feelings  liad  hre.i 
powerfuUye^cited  by  the  ruinous  and  rxioAess 
state  of  the  hall  in  which  the  Scotch  par. 
lismcnts  had  frequently  been  held.  His 
indignation  hadveuteditadf  in  some  impnu 
dent,  butnotnnpDeticD]linea,wbich  had  given 
much  oScnce,  and  which  he  took  this  upportU' 
nity  of  erasing,  by  breaking  the  pane  of  the 
window  at  the  inn  on  which  they  were  written. 

travellers  from  Edinhui^h,  among  whom  was 
a  characi^T  in  many  respects  congenial  with 
that  of  Bums.  This  was  Niool,  one  of  tli 
teactiera  of  the  liigh  Grammar  School  at 
Edinburgh — the  same  wit  and   power   a' 


safiirc 


rivial 


lociety,  and  thoughtlessness 

rharacterised  both.    Jucobitical  principles  in 

jolitics  were  common  to  both  of  them  j 

'evolution  of  France,  to  bare  given  place 
n  each  to  opinions  apparently  opposite.  (7a) 
regret  that  I  have  prescrv&i  no  mem- 
•rabilia  of   their   converailion,  either  on 

o  meet  them  together.  Many  songs  were 
ling;  which  X  mention  fbr  the  sake  of  oh. 
«rvii^,  that  when  Bums  was  called  on  iii 


'hich,  tl 


a  and  emphasis 
This  he  did' 


and  pathetic, 
on  the  present  occasion. 

"From  SrJrliT^  we  went  next  momzng 
through  the  romantic  and  fertile  vale  of 
Devon  to  Harvicston,  in  Clackmannanshire 
tben  inhabited  by  Mrs.  Hamitbui  (73),  with 
the  younger  part  of  whose  family  Bums  had 
been  previously  acquainted.  He  introduced 
me  to  the  lumily,  and  there  waa  formed  my 
first  acquaintance  with  Mrs.  Hamilton's 
eldest  daughter,  to  whom  I  have  been 
married  for  nine  yeais.  Thus  waa  I  in- 
debted to  Bums  for  a  connection  from 
which  I  have  derived,  and  eipect  farther  lo 
derive,  much  liappinesa. 


Hosted  by  Google 


LIFE  OF  BUaSS. 


resid«i< 


of  about  ten  dnys  s 


TBrioua  parts  of  the  siurounding  awnery, 
iuftrior  to    none    in  Scotlnnd  in  beauty, 

ticnlarly  Castle  Compbell,  the  ancient  sent 
of  the  femily  of  Argjle ;  Rnd  tlie  fiunoua 
cataract  of  the  Devon,  celled  the  Celdron 
linn ;  uid  the  BumUing  Bridge,  a  ait^e 
broad  xrch,  thimm  b;  the  devil,  if  tradition 

the  height  of  a  hundred  feet  above  iCa  bed. 
I  am  Eurgirised  that  none  of  these  scenes 
should  have  called  forth  «i  esertion  of 
Boma's  muse.  Bnt  I  doubt  if  he  had  much 
taste  fur  the  picturesqae.  I  nell  remember, 
liiat  tha  ladies  et  Harvieston,  who  accom- 
panied us  on  this  jaunt,  eipi 
dissjipDiutment  at  hia  not  eij 
more  glowing  and  fervid  language,  his  im- 
preasiona  of  ths  Caldron  Lino  scene,  cer- 
taiidy  hijthly  sublime,  and  somewhat  homhle. 

■  lad;  shove  ninet;,  the  hneal  descendant  of 
that  race  which  gave  the  Scottish  throne  its 

more  powerfiilly.  lids  yenemble  dame,  with 
diaraneristical  dignity,  mfoimed  me,  on  my 
observing  that  I  believed  she  vas  descended 
from  the  fcmily  of  Robert  Bruce,  that 
Eobert  Bruce  was  sprung  from  her  iflraiiy. 
Though  almost  demved  of  speech  by  a 
paralytic  aitection,  she  preserved  her  bospi- 


',   and  the    ahhey-ch  rch     n  w   cfm- 
ed  to  Frcsbyten  rsh  p      II       ( 

mounted  the  eiitis  alool  tool     f 

—  ''■ance,    assuming    th       hara  te       fa 
lent  fbr  fomicatio  bit   S         f 

pulpit,   addressed  to  n        Id 
reproof  and  exhortation  parodied  from  that 

Ayrshire,  whtre  be  liad,  as  he  assured  me, 
once  been  one  of  seven  who  mounted  the 


neglect  of  the  first  of  Scottish  heroes."  (76) 

'J'lie  surprise  expressed  by  Dr.  Adair,  in 

his    excellent    letter,  that   the   rnmaiitii! 


is  not  in  its  nature  singular )  and  the  dis- 
appointnieut  felt  et  his  not  eipreasinf 
in  mote  glowing  kngaage  bis  emotions  on 
the  Mght  of  tlie  femous  cataract  of  that 
nver,  ia  similar  to  what  was  felt  by  the 
friends  of  Barns  on  other  occasions  of  llie 
""      the  mfeteiu 


Adaii 


inilj.    SI 

of  the  hero's  helmet  and  two-handed  sword, 
irith  uhich  ahe  conferred  on  Bums  and 
myself  the  honour  of  knighthood,  remarking, 
that  ahe  had  a  better  right  to  confer  that 


little  K 


onformity  which  ec 


She  gave, 

after  dinner,  Attra*  Vncaa,  or  Away  with  the 
etraugera.  Who  these  strangers  were,  you 
will  readily  understand.  Mra.  A.  correcta 
me  by  saying  it  should  he  Horn,  or  Hoot 
Uncos,  a  sound  used  by  ahqiheida  to  direct 
their  dogs  to  drive  away  the  ahem.  (7*J 
"We  returned  to  Edinburgh  by  Kniroaa 

I  am  inclined  to  think  Burna  knen  nothing 
ofpoor  Micliael  Bruce,  who  was  then  alive 
at  Kiiu'oss,  or  had  died  there  a  short  while 
before.  A  meeting  between  the  bards,  or  a 
Tisit  to  tlie  deserted  cottage  and  early  grave 


"At  Duiiamline  we  visited  the  ruined 


be  qaeslioneil,  eien  if  'it  stood  unco 
troverted  by  other  evidence.    Tlie  muse 

came  uncalled,  and  often  refused  to  attei 
at  hia  bidding.  Of  all  the  numerous  au 
jectB  anggested  to  him  by  bis  friends  ai 
correapondcnts,  there  is  scarcely  one  tliat 
adopted.    The  very  spectatiou  that  a  pi 

of  fincy,  if  comminiicated  to  Bums,  seem 
in  him,  aa  in  other  poets,  destructive  of  i 
effect  eipected.  llence  perhaps  may 
explained,  why  the  banks  of  the  Devon  ai 
of  the  Tweed  torni  uo  part  of  the  aubjet 
of  his  song. 


n  linn. 


deadened 

by  the  influence  of  previous  expectation, 
than  those  arismg  from  the  sight  of  natural 
objects,  and  more  eapccially  of  objects  of 


a  sublime  n. 


1.  par- 


ticularly if  they  are  persons  of  great  strength 
and  sensibility  of  imagination.  Language 
seldom  or  never  conveys  an  adequate  idea  of 
Buth  o1j;ccis,  hut  m  the  mind  of  a  great  pool 


Ho,t,db,  Google 


LINES  OS  THE  DEVOS. 

!  stTOigth  of  hia  poiiion 


tbe  Cuidron  IJmi  should  aeem  tlie  purling 
of  e  rill,  8ud  even  the  mi^lity  falls  of  Niagara 
a  humble  cascade.  (77j 

"Whether  these  si^^estions  may  assist  in 
ffliplainiiig  our  bard'n  delcieucy  of  imprea- 
sion  on  the  occasion  referred  to,  or  whether 
it  oosht  rather  to  be  impnted  to  some 
prc-occupatiou,  of  indispoaiCion  of  mind,  we 
presume  not  to  decide :  but  that  he  was  in 
general  feelingly  alive  to  the  beautiM  or 
BubUme  in  scenery,  may  he  supported  by 

was  greatly  beightcnedin  his  mind,  as  might 
he  Mpeoled,  when  combined  with  moral 
emotions  of  a  kind  with  which  it  happily 

coitleoiplated  Che  scenery  of  the  Devon  with 
^le  eye  of  a  genuine  poet,  the  foUowing  lines 
written    at    this    very   period    may    bear 


ioncr  on  tlioBanks  of  the 

5t  bud  on  the  braes  of  tbe 

[OewT 
irn  as  It  bnthes  in  the 
UieBotl  venial  shower, 
eveuit^  each  leaf  lo 


dements  a, 

parish-school,  Mr.  Nicol  made  a  .  ,  .  ,  . 
and  singular  proficiency;  and  by  early 
undertaking  tl^  olHce  of  an  instructor  him- 
self, he  Bcqiiired  the  means  of  entering  him- 
lelf  at  the  University  of  Edinbui^h,    There 


>h  snare  th 


«t  Bourbon  exult  in  his  gay  ^Ided  lilies, 
And  ILngLaiul  triuiaiihinit  ili^play  her  ^roi 


The  different  Joumies  already  mentioned 
did  not  aatisty  the  curiosity  of  Bums, 
About  tlic  beginning  of  September,  be  agun 
Kt  out  from  Edinhuivh  on  a  more  eitended 
tour  to  the  highlands,  in  company  with 
£lr.  Nicol,  with  whom  he  had  now  con- 
tracted a  particular  intimacy,  which  hated 
during  the  remainder  of  his  life.  Mr.  Kicol 
WHS  of  Ihimfries -shire,  of  a  descent  ei 


lytl 


111  by 


f  179?. 


He  died  in  the 


.eology,  til 


afterwards 
.    .  ttance  and  iuscmction 

of  graduates  in  medidne,  in  those  parts  of 
tbdr  exercises  in  which  the  Latin  language 
employed  In  this  sitaatiou  he  was  the 
int^mporary  and  rival  of  the  celebrated 
r.  Brown,  whom  he  resembled  in  the 
pirticulaTS  of  his  histoiy,  as  well  as  in  tiw 
leaduig  features  of  hia  character.  The 
"     High  School 


s  to  be  lamented,  that  an  acqniunlance 
irilh  the  writers  of  Greece  and  Kome  does 
ways  supply  an  original  want  of  taste 

and  where  it  fiuls  of  this  effect,  it  sometimes 
"  mea  the  native  pride  of  temper,  which 
ts  with  disdan  those  delicacies  iu  which 
la  not  learnt  to  excel.  It  was  thus  with 
Ifellow-travciler  of  Bums.  Formed  by 
u*  in  a  model  of  great  strength,  neither 
person  nor  his  manners  had  any  tinctnrv 
iste  or  elegance ;  and  his  < 


g  flights  of  imagi 


posl^haise,  which  they  engaged  for  the 
journey,  and  passing  through  tbe  heart  of 
the  Higiihmda,  stretched  northwards,  about 
ten  miles  beyond  Inverness,     There  'they 

and  returned  by  the  shore  of  the  German 
sea  to  Edinburgh.  In  the  course  of  this 
tour,  some  particulars  of  which  will  be  found 


of  remarkable  so 


id  the  imagination  of 
Kurns  was  constantly  eiated  by  the  wild 
and  sublime  scenery  through  which  he 
passed.  Of  this  several  proofs  may  be  found 
in  the  poems  formerly  printed.  {7i))  Of  the 
history  of  one  of  these  poems,  the  Humble 


Ho,t,db,  Google 


LIFE  OF   EUIIS3. 


:e  euililed  M 


HddiliODat 


■'  On  reaching  Bl^r,  lie  sent  me  nolicc  of 
his  ortival  (as  I  had  heeii  previouBlj  ac- 
quainted with  him],  and  I  hasieiied  to  meet 
him  at  the  inn.  aiie  Duke,  to  whom  he 
brought  a  letter  of  introduction,  wa4  from 
home;  but  tlia Uuchesa.  being  informed  of 
his  amval,  gave  him  an  iuvitadon  to  sup 
aud  fiieep  at  Athole-house.  He  accepted 
the  iuntation ;  but  as  the  houi  of  snpper 
was  at  sume  distance,  begged  I  would  in  tlie 
intetvsJ  be  his  guide  through  tlie  gEounJa. 
It  was  already  growing  dark;  yet  the 
softened  though  fiuat  nud  uncertain  view  of 
their  beauties,  which  the  uiootdight  aKorded 
Tu,  seemed  ei^actly  suited  to  the  state  of  his 
feelings  at  the  ^me.  1  had  often,  like 
others,  experienced  the  pleasures  wliich  arise 
from  the  subHme  or  elcgmil  landscape,  but 
J  uerer  saw  those  feelings  so  intense  as  in 
Sums.  IV'hen  we  reached  a  rustic  hut  oik 
the  rivet  Tilt,  where  it  is  overhung  by  a 
woody  preeipke,  fcom  which  thcte  is  a  noble 
waterfall,  he  threw  himself  on  the  heathy 
acftt,  and  gave  himself  up  to  a  tender, 
absMicted,  and  voluptuous  enthusiasm  of 
imagioation.  I  (aiinot  help  thuikmg  it 
might  have  been  here  that  lie  conceived  the 
idea  of  the  followu^  lines,  which  he  after- 
wards introduced  into  his  poem  on  Bruat 
"Water,  when  only  timcying  such  a  combina- 


Huan 


:ppcr'a  nightly  beam, 
lermgr  through  the  trees, 
larhVy-da^inn  stream, 
elLinjj  on  the  breeze.' 


It  was  with  much  difficulty  I  prevailed  on 
him  to  quit  this  spot,  and  to  he  iutruduceit 
in  proper  time  to  auppcr. 

■■  My  curiosity  was  great  to  see  how  he 
iFould  conduct  himself  in  company  so 
different  t^om  what  lie  had  been  accustomed 
to.  (so)  His  manner  was  ouembanasscd, 
plain,  and  thm.  He  apiicared  lo  have  com- 
~'~te  reliance  on  his  own  native  good  sense 


«his 


Hese 


»  perceive  and  to  appreciate  wlial  was 
0  the  company  and  to  himself,  and 
to  forget  a  proper  respect  for  the 


hneyc 


because  he  knew  it  was  ability 
lira  a  tiUe  to  be  there.  The 
ig  family  attracted  much  of 


Ins  aduiirat 
/lOKeat  men  and  hotmie  la£&ei,  an  idea  wiiich 
was  much  applauded  by  the  company,  and 
with  which  he  has  very  fehdtously  dosed 
his  poem.  (81) 

"Nest  day  I  took  a.  ride  with  him 
through  some  of  the  most  romantic  part  of 
that  neighbourhood,  and  was  highly  grati- 
lied  by  his  coniersaCion.  As  a  spenmen  of 
happiness  of  conception  and  strength  of 

'-traveller,  who  was 
few  paces  before  ua, 
robust  but  clumsy 
person ;  and  while  Bums  was  eipreasiiig  to 
me  the  value  lie  eutertaiued  for  him,  oti 


1,  I  will  m 

ulfl  on  his  feUo 
g  at  the  time  i 


ere  clouded  M  times  by  cDBrseiie33''of 
ra ;  '  in  short,'  he  add&l, '  his  mind  ii 
jia  body- — he  lias  a  confomided  strong 
ee'd  sort  of  a  souL' 
lucli  attention  was  paid  to  Bums  botli 
e  and  after  the  Duke's  return,  of  which 
as  perfectly  sensible,  without  beins 
and  at  bis  departure  I  vecommended 


on  uiy  of  the  scenes  with  which  he 
been  so  much  deUghted.  After  les 
Blair,  lie,  by  the  Duke's  advice,  visited 
Falls  of  Bruar,  and  in  a  few  days  I  red 
a  letter  from  luvemeas,  with  tlie  vi 
enclosed."  (8a 
It  appears  that  the  impression  mad 

iu  a  high  degree  favourable;  it  is  certai 
was  cliuriued  with  the  reception  he  rec 


his  incliimtions  to  his  engagement 
Mr,  Nicol;  which  is  the  more  to  I 
gretted,  as  he  would  otherwise  Imve 
introduced  to  Mr.  Dnndaa  (8,3)  (then 
'  --  --■■-- the  Duke],  a    - 


1  favc 


influence  on  Biims's  future  fortunes.    At 
Athole-bouse  he  met,  for  the  lu«l  time, 

afieru-ards  indebted  fur  his  olltce  in  the 


sibility,  and  justify  the  supposition,  that  he 
would  not  have  been  deficient  in  gratitude 
had  he  been  elevated  to  a  situation  better 


Ho,t,db,  Google 


is  felli 


Fochabers.  lu  the  course  of  the  precetlin; 
winter  Bums  had  been  mtroduced  to  the 
Ducheaa  of  Gordon  at  Edinburgh,  and  pre- 
fiumiug  on  this  acquamtauce,  h«  proceeded 
to  Gordon  Castle,  leaving  Mr.  Nicol  at  the 
inn  in  the  village.  At  the  castle  our  _ 
was  received  with  the  ntniost  hoapitality 
■nd  kiadness,  and  the  ttiinily  being  about  to 
lit  down  to  dinner,  he  was  invitel  to  take 

This  iiivitatioa  he  accepted,  and  after  drink- 
ing a  few  glasses  of  wine,  he  rose  up,  and 
proposed  to  withdraw.  On  being  pressed 
to  stay,  he  mentioned,  for  the  ihst  time,  his 
engagement  with  his  liellaw-traveller ;  and 
his  noble  host  offering  to  send  a  servant 
conduct  Mr.  Nicol  to  the  castle.  Boms 
sifted  on  undertabiitg  that  olflce  himselt 
He  was,  however,  accompanied  bj  a  geutle- 
nian,  a  particular  acquainiance  of  the  duke, 
by  irhom  the  inntation  >cas  deliveied  m  all 
the  forms  of  politeness,  'llie  ini 
came  too  late;  the  pride  of  Nio 
inflamed  into  a  high  degree  of  pass.-..,  _, 
tlie  neglect  vhich  he  had  already  Buffered. 
He  had  ordered  the  horses  to  be  put  to  the 
caniage,  being  determined  to  proceed  on 
his  journey  idone;  and  tliey  fcmnd  him 
parading  the  streets  of  Focliabers,  befo 
the  door  of  tlie  ina,  Tenting  his  anger  i 


.  could  cliange  the  purpose 
lis  fellow-tlaveller,  our  poet  was  reduced 
]he  necessity  of  separating  ftom  him 


beside  Nicnl  m  the  post-chaise,  wil 
Ucatiou  Slid  regret,  he  turned  his  back  on 
Gordon  Castle,  where  lie  had  promised  him- 
self some  happy  days.  Sensible,  bov^ver, 
of  the  great  kindness  of  the  noble  family, 
he  made  tlie  best  return  in  his  power,  by 
the  toltawing  poem ; —  (84) 

"Streams  that  glide  hi  orient  plains, 


BTJESS  LEAVES  GORDON  CASTLE. 

BS  nrelehea  wld  to  toll, 

ithless  native's  way, 

lU  slaughter,  blood,  and  spi^  t 

he  tyrant  and  the  slave; 
the  proves  ttiat  lofty  brave 
fitorms  by  GAStle-Gordon, 


A.  few  days  after  leaving  Blair  of  Athole, 


t  mpht  a  sheltering 

icrB  flow  and  wild  woods  w«T^ 

mia  Castle-Gordon."  (S5] 


tion  of  that  metropolis.  (ST)  It  appcnrs 
that  on  the  31st  Ueceuibet  he  attended  a 
mee^ig  to  celebrate  the  hirth-day  of  the 
lineal  deflcendant  of  the  Scottish  race  of 
kings,  the  late  unfortunate  l^ince  Chariea 
Ddward.  Whatever  might  bare  been  the 
^viah  or  purpose  of  the  original  insticntora 
of  tills  aUDiul  mee&ig,  thne  is  no  reason 
to  suppose  that  the  gentlemen  of  wliom  it 

fecUy  loyal  tu  the  khig  on  the  throne.  It 
is  not  to  be  eooeeived  that  (liey  entertained 
any  hope  o^  any  wish  tor,  the  restoration  of 
the  Mouse  of  Stuart;  hut,  over  their  spark- 
ling wine,  they  indulged  the  generous  feel- 
ings which  the  recollection  of  tUlen  greatuess 

the  heroic  valour  which  strove  to  sustain  it 

rain — ndoui  worthy  of  a  nobler  cause, 

a  happier  fortune.    On  this  occasion 

bard  took  npou  himself  the  oKlce  of  a 

poet-lanreate,  and  produced  an  ode,  which, 

though  deiicienc  in  the  compln.'ated  rhythm 

and  poHalied  versidcBlion  tliat  soch  eom- 

itions  teqture,  might  on  a  hit  competi- 

1,    where   energy    of    feelings    and   of 

CKpression  were  alone  m  question,  have  won 

"     '         "  Mahnsey  from  the  real  laureate 


These,  their  riohly-gleumlnir  ^ 

Give  me  the  stream  that  swi 
The  banks  by  CasUe-GuTL 


tff  from  the  burning  ray 


fing  eitracts  may  ae 
specimen; — 

"  Falsa  flatterer,  nojie,  awayl 
or  think  to  lure  us  04  in  days  of  yc 

Iproveour  lojBl  truth— wecanno 

Y«  honoured  mighty  dead  I 

ho  nobly  perished  in  the  Klorious  t 

From  Hieat  Dundee,  wlio  smiling 


Ho,t,db,  Google 


LIFE  OF  BtmSS. 


Ttrar  blood  nhall  irilh  incestrmt  try 

The  Koovj  Tuin  scuokcs  along, 

60  rengeanoe"  •  •  •  [ihovalel 
In  telating  the  incidents  of  our  poef  3 
life  in  Edinburgh,  we  ought  to  lave  men- 
tioned tiie  sentimeflCs  of  respect  and  sympa- 
thy «ith  Hhieh  be  traced  out  the  grave  of 
hi^  predeceaior  Ferguason,  orer  whose 
aehes,  in  the  Caaongale  charchyard,  he  ob- 
tained kave  to  erect  a  humble  monument, 
which  will  be  viewed  by  reflecting  minda 
with  no  common  intereat.  and  which  will 
awake  iu  the  bosom  of  kindred  genius  toany 
a  hi<:h  emotion.  Neither  should  ve  pans 
lA  friendahiplie  experienced 


tuna  a  poet  tl 


iirng,  I 


i  Blackiock. 
ing  advice  it  was  owing  (as  has  already 
appeared)  that  Bums,  instead  of  emigtatiiig 
to  the  West  Indies,  repaired  to  Edinburgh, 
He  recnved  him  there  with  aB  the  ardour 
of  nffectionate  admiration — he  eagerly  in- 
troduced him  to  the  rcsjiectable  circle  of  his 
friends— he  consulted  his  iuteteat — he  bla- 
Boned  his  fame — he  lavished  upon  him  all 
tile  kiudneaa  of  a  generous  and  fcehng 
heart,  into  which  nothing  selfish  or  envious 
ever  fcund  admittance.  Among  the  friends 
to  nhom  he  introduced  Burus,  vas  Mr. 
Ramsay  of  Ochtertyre  (89),  to  whom  our  poet 
paid  a  visit  in  the  aulumn  of  17S7  [October], 
at  his  dehght^l  retirement  in  the  neigh- 
bourhood of  StirUng,  and  on  the  banks  of 
the  Teith.  Of  this  visit  we  have  the  follow- 
ing particulars : — 

"I  have  been  in  the  company  of 

•men  of  zenios"  savs  Mr.  P— "  - 

■them 


.fsMr.Bam!  ,, 
but    never    witnessed    s 


leof 


B  of  intellectuai  brightnt 
him,  the  impnlae  of  the  moment,  sparks  of 
celestial  fire !  I  never  was  more  driighted, 
therefore,  than  with  his  company  for  two 
days,  iSte-a-tfite.  In  a  miied  company  I 
should  have  made  Kttle  of  hmi ;  for,  m  the 
ilwaysknow 


and  w 


o  play  0 


"  ■  •  i  not  only  proposed  to  him  the 
vriting  of  a  play  ^milar  to  the  Gentle 
Shepherd,  qsaiea  dtcet  ease  strarem,  but 


tish  Georgica.  a  subject  which  Thomson 
by  no  mat  ed        hi    'ieaa 

It  heiu  Ian       pe  rot 


some  spina    ra         m  ry 

weft  nor  woo       H  anged 

airordeiccp  eas    Dr  Blan' 

Havnig  settled  with  his  puUiaher,  Mr. 
Creech,  in  February  1788,  Bums  found  him- 
self master  of  nearly  five  hundred  pounds, 
after  discharging  all  hia  expenses.  Two 
hundred  pounds  he  immediately  advanced 
to  his  brother  Gilbert,  who  bad  taken  upon 
himself  tiie  supjioit  of  tlieir  aged  motiier, 
and  was  stru^ht^  with  many  difliculties  in 
the  farm  of  iMossgieL  With  the  remainder 
o(  this  sum,  and  some  farther  eventual  pro- 
fits from  hia  poema,  be  determined  on  aettiing 
himself  for  hfc  in  the  occupation  of  agricul- 
ture, and  took  from  Mr.  lliller  of  Dabwiu- 
ton  (91),  tliefarm  of  Ellislaud.  on  the  banks 
of  the  liver  I4ith,  six  miles  above  Dumfties, 
on  which  he  entered  at  Whitsunday,  1788. 
Having  been  previously  recommended  to 
the  Board  of  Excise,  hia  name  hud  been 
put  on  the  list  of  candidatea  for  the  hinnhle 


of  a 


n  (92);  , 


he  uumediaiely  applied  to  acquiring  the  in 


cflUcd  i< 

his  farm  waa  situated,  and  vunty  hoped  to 
unite  with  succeaa  the  labours  of  the  former 
with  tlie  duties  of  the  exciseman. 

When  Bums  had  in  this  manner  arranged 
hia  plans  for  fiiturity,  his  generous  heart 
tamed  to  the  obicci  of  his  most  ardent 
attachment,  and,  Hstening  to  no  considera- 
tiona  but  those  of  honour  and  affection,  he 
joined  with  her  in  a  public  declaration  of 
marriage,  thus  legalisnig  their  miion,  and 
rendeiing  it  permanent  fur  life. 

Before  Bums  was  known  in  Edinburgh, 
a  apecimen  of  hia  poetry  had  recommev  ded 
him  to  Mr.  Miller  of  Dolswinton.  Under- 
sumding  that  he  intended  to  resome  the 


Hoifdb,  Google 


lift  of  aferraer,  Mr. Millet  had invitedhiin, 
in  the  spring  of  1787,  to  view  hia  estata  in 
Nithaflale,  offering  him  at  the  same  time  (he 
dioice  of  any  of  hia  firms  out  of  lease,  at 
Buch  a,  reot  as  SnmE  and  his  fiietub  might 

£dge  proper.  It  was  not  in  the  natnre  of 
urna  to  ta£e  an  undue  advantage  of  the 
lilicrality  of  Mr.  Miller.  He  proceeded  in 
this  buanesB,  however,  with  more  than 
usual  deliheratioo.  Having  madfl  choice  of 
the  farm  of  Elhsland,  lie  employed  two  of 
his  friends  eliilied  in  tlia  value  of  land,  to 
eiamine  it,  and,  with  their  oppiobBtion, 
offe-'d  a  rent  to  Mr.  Millet,  wUcli  was  im- 
mediaiely  sccepted.  (93)  It  was  not  conve- 
nient for  Mrs.  Bums  to  remove  immediatel; 
from  AjTshitB,  and  ont  poet  therefore  took 
up  his  residence  slone  at  Ellisland,  to  pte- 
puM  for  the  reception  of  hia  wife  and  chil- 
dren, who  joined  him  towards  the  end  of  the 

[Dr.  Currie  omits  all  a!luf 

Bums  and  his 


AVOWED  MARBIAGE  OF  BUEXS. 
On  the  7th  of  April, 


a  pemianen 


le  poet,  notwithstanding  all  past 
irritation,  aikl  various  entanglements  with 
other  heauties,  was  never  altogetlicr  aUenated 
ftom  her,  is  evident;  hMC  up  to  June  I7r" 
when  he  Srst  returned  from  Edinburgh 
Haucbline,  he  certainly  did  not  entertt 


r  ae1f4vowed  noti 


oon  after 


It  w 


m  Edinbu 


over  a  glass  at  John 


Dow'e  cavern,  close  ti 
once  fondly  laved  mistress,  he  chinced  t 
moounter  her  in  the  court  behind  the  ini 
and  Taa  immediately  inflamed  with  all  hi 
former  aifeetion.  Their  correspondence  we 
tincwed — was  attended  with  i'"  '" " 


la  Che 


end  of  the 


^  t  was  Used  lielplessly  hi  Edin- 
by  a  braised  limb,  hCT  ahimie  becom- 
parent  to  her  parents,  she  was  turned 
doors.  Bud  would  have  been  utterly 
ite.  if  she  hsd  not  oht^ned  shelter 
"lb  villflge 


giris— on   the 
in^ts  died  a 


'livered  of  twins — 
March,  1788:  the 
3  after  their  birth, 
to  Mr.  R,  Ainalie, 
written  from  Mauchline,  Bums  bbvb — "I 
found  Jean  banished,  forlorn,  dest 
friendlesB;  1  have  reconciled  he 
fete,  and  I    hive  reconciled  ht 

formed  the  re 
honoiiriog  di 
toty,  and  ma 


lution  of  overlooking  all  dia- 
aiDstancea,  in  her  past  his- 
ig  her  really  his  own  tor  hfe. 


lately  m 


sscriScea,  for  which,  w 

you  to  paint  the  sitnation  ana  recount  rne 

circumstancea,    you    would    applaud    me." 

we  see  the  resolution  has  been  virtually 
acted  upon.  "To  let  yoa  a  little  into  the 
secrets  of  my  pericranium,  there  ia,  you 

aome,  bewitching  young  hussy  of  your  ac- 
quaintance, to  whom  1  have  lately  given  a 
matrimonial  title  to  my  corpus.  '  '  T 
intend  to  present  Mrs.  Bums  «ith  a  printed 
shawl,  an  article  of  wliich  I  dare  say  you 
have  variety ;  'tia  my  tirat  present  to  her 
since  I  iiTcvocahly  called  her  mine.  •  • 
Mrs.  Bums  ('(is  only  her  private  designa- 
tion) presents  her  best  complimeots  to  you." 
He  tells  Ainslie,  May  26,  that  the  title  is 
1  ..  ^1 -dd— a  sufliciMit  legal 


n  the  3rd  oi 


[einScotkni    Ultim 
iiKuat,  as  ne  learn  ftom  the 

openly  married;  wlien  Sums,  being  in- 
formal that  it  was  customary  for  the  bride- 
groom, in  auch  caaea,  to  bestow  aomething 
on  the  poor  of  tlie  parish,  gave  a  guinea  for 
that  purpose.  The  ceremony  took  pkce  in 
Dow'e  tavern,  unsanctioned  by  the  lady'a 

deatiC  wouM  treat  him  as  ■  friend ;  even 
Qavin  HamiltCHi,  from  respect  for  the  ieel- 
inga  of  Armour,  declined  being  present.    It 

Bnrns  joined  her  husband  at  Ellisland — 
th^r  only  child  Robert  following  her  in  the 
subsequent  spiing.] 
■"      ■  "   whidi  Bums  now  found 


awaken 


might  he  said  t( 
filed  hia  destiny.  He  had  become  a  husband 
and  afiither;  he  had  engaged  in  the  manage- 
ment of  a  considerable  farm,  a  dilficDlt  and  la- 
borious  midertakit^ ;  iu  liia  success  the  blfpi- 
nesa  of  his  family  was  involved.  It  was 
tune,  thetefote,  to  abandon  the  gaiety  and 
dissipation  of  which  he  had  been  too  much 
enamoured ;  to  ponder  seriously  on  the  past, 
and  to  form  virtuous  resolutions  respecting 
""    '  such   was  actually  t'-" 


teofhisi 


ie  follow 


i  book  may  b^r  w 

"Ellisiiad,  Siaiga3,ltlh  June 

"This  is  now  the  third  day  tha 

lecn  in  this  country.   '  Ijird,  what 


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3.  ideas,  and  faj» 

19  kind  otesisKiice  he  dbs  m 

a  iudeed   an  elsewbete,  wl 


V,  end  we  mu-^l  ahorllj  ba ; 


WiUraakena 
'■Ik 


'ard  in  li 


«.  tired  o 


ice,  that  I  would  almc 
with  Miltoii'n  Adam,  'gladly  lay  me  in  my 
motlier'a  lap,  and  he  at  pence,'  But  a  wife 
and  children  hind  me  to  struggle  with  Ihe 
stream,  till  some  ludden  squall  shdll  oretaet 
the  silly  vessel,  or,  in  the  listless  letutn  of 

Farewell  now  to  those  giddy  Mies,  those 
raniished  vices,  which,  though  half  sancti- 
fied by  the  bewilehing  lenty  of  wit  and 
humour,  are  at  heat  but  thriftless  idling  with 
thepredous  ■    '  "  ~'^~~ 


iri-en,  auduothii^  short  ofasupetnatutally 
gifted  Elisba  caii  ever  afier  heai  the  evils. 

"  WeiUodt,  the  tb^umstMice  that  buckles 
me  hardest  to  care,  if  virtue  and  religion 
were  to  he  any  tbijig  with 


id,  pictures  of  domestic  content  and 

'ose  on  hia  im^nation ;  and  a  few 

days  passed  away,  as  he  himself  informs  us, 

"■ !  most  tranquil,  if  not  the  happiest,  wbieh 

had  ever  eipnienced.  (94.) 

It  is  to  be  lamented  tiiat  at  this  critical 

period  of  his  life,  our  poet  was  without  iho 

ao«ety  of  hia  wife  ana  children.    A  great 

changv  had  taken  place  la  his  siCaatitm;  his 

old  Iwbita  were  broken,  and  the  new  drcum. 

es  in  which  be  waa  placed  were  caico- 

to  give  a  new  (Erection  to  his  thoughts 

and  labours  of  hb  form  was  interrupted 
by  several  visits  to  hia  family  in  Ayralure; 
and  as  tlie  distauce  waa  too  great  for  a  aingla 
day's  journey,  he  generally  spent  a  night  at 
au  inn  on  the  road.  On  such  occasions  he 
ipauy,  and  forgot  tha 


3    1    11 


resolved  on ;  in  my  present  situation  it 
ahaohiifily  necessary,  tiomauicy,  generosity, 
honest  pride  of  ebaracler,  justice  to  my  own 
happiness  for  afier-ble,  so  &r  as  it  could  de- 
pend (which  it  surely  "Jill  a  great  deal] 


favourite  motto,  that  glorious  passage  in 

'On  reason  build  resolve, 
That  eolamn  at  true  mojesly  in  man! ' " 
Under  the  imonlse  of  theae  reflections, 
Burns  immediately  engaged  in  rebriilding 
the  dwening-house  ou  his  farm,  which,  in 
the  state  he  found  it,  vas  inadequate  to  thi 
accommodation  of  his  fomily.  On  thia  occa 
■ion  he  himself  resumed  at  times  the  occupa 
tion  of  a  labourer,  and  found  nratjier  his 
■tcength  nor  his  skill  impaired  Heaseil  with 
surveying  the  grounds  be  waa  about  t 
tivate,  and  with  the  rearing  of  a  buildin^ 
should  give  shelter  to  his  aife  and  children, 
«ud,  as  he  tbndly  hoped,  to  his  own  grey 
hairs,  senldraents  of  mdependence  buoyed  up 


id  fori 


iwldle, 

fame  naturally  dren'  upon  him  the 
ion  of  his  neigbhours,  and  he  soon 
fljrmed  a  general  acqnaniiance  in  the  district 
in  which  he  lived.  'ITie  public  voice  had  now 
pronounced  on  the  subject  of  his  talents  j 
tbe  reception  he  had  met  with  in  Ediuburgh 
had  given  him  the  currency  which  fashion 
bestows ;  be  hiul  aurmountcd  the  prejudices 
arismg  from  bis  humble  birth,  and  he  was 
receiced  at  the  table  of  the  gentlemen  of 
Nithsdale  with  welcome,  with  kiudneaa,  and 
even  with  respect.  Their  social  parlies  too 
often  sedaced  him  from  his  rustic  labours 
and  his  rustic  fare,  overthrew  the  unsteady 
fabric  of  his  resolutions,  and  infiamed  those 
pcopenaities  which  temperance  might  have 
weakened,  and  prudence  ultimately  snp. 
— '  (95)    tt  w • —    -'■—'— 


nresaed. i 


began  to 


&i\ike  and  despondence,  if  not  with  disgust. 
Unfortunately,  he  had  for  several  years 
looked  to  en  ortice  in  tbe  Eicise  aa  a  certain 
means  of  Uvelihood,  should  his  other  etpecla- 
Ijons  fail.  As  has  already  been  mentioned, 
lie  had  been  recommended  to  the  Board  of 
Exdse,    and   had   received  the  justruction 

applied  to  be  employed ;  and  by  the  interest 
irf  Mr.  Giahaoi  of  Rntry,  was  appointed 
escisemau,  or,  aa  it  ia  vulgarly  called,  ganger, 
of  the  district  in  which  he  liwd.  (9tl.)  Hii 
farm  waa  after  this  in  a  grcal:  measure 
idiandoiied  to  servanta,  while  ha  betook  him. 
self  to  the  duties  of  his  new  appointment. 

He  m^ht.  indeed,  atiU  be  seen  m  the 
spring  directing  bis  plough,  a  labour  in 
which  he  excelled^  '"    "''■'    "  —'■-'■-   -'  --' 


striding    w 


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3  IS  TOE  EXCISE. 


■long  his  tumed-np  funcnrs.  anil  ecottermg 
the  graia  in  the  earth.    But  his  farm 
lOE^tr  occupied  the  pnncipsd  part  of 
care  or  hU  tUoughts.  (97)    IC  was  not 
EllisTand  that  he  waft  uow  in  ^neral  to  be 
found.    Mmiated  (hi  horsebadi,  this  h^h- 
miuded  poet  was  pursuing  the  deliiulleis  of 
the  reTcnue  amonj  the  bills  and  Tales  of 
Nilhsdnle,  his  roving  eje  nandering  over 
Uie  cJiarms  of  nature,  and  mullering  hii 
VJagward  fim^a  as  he  moved  a^oD^. 

"I  had  an  adventure  with  him  in  the 
jear  1790,"  says  Mr.  Bamsay  of  Ochtettj™, 
in  a  letter  ta  the  editor,  "when  passing 
throiigh  Uumfries-shtie,  on  a  tour  to  (Iw 
south,  with  Dr.  Stewart  of  Lass.    Seeing 

my  compauion, '  tliBt  is  Bums.'  On  comi 
to  the  iiui,  the  hostler  told  us  he  would 
back  in  a  few  hours  to  grant  permits ;  tl 
where  he  met  ^sith  anything  seizable  he  v 
no  better  than  any  other  gnuger ;  in  eve 
thing  else,  that  he  was  perfectly  a  geiil 

to  hia 
lis  Jean,  &0.  1 
was  macti  pleased  with  his  uxor  tiabina 
gmlia,  aud  the  poet's  modest  mansion,  so 
unlike  the  habitation  of  ordinary  rustics. 
In  the  evening  lie  suddenly  bounced  in 
ii|u>n  us,  and  said,  as  he  entered,  '  I  come, 
to  use  tiie  words  of  Shakspeare,  stenvd  is 
hmle'  In  fact,  he  had  ridden  iuuedihly 
fast  after  rccdviiig  my  note  We  fell  into 
conversation  directly,  and  soon  got  into  the 
mare  magmlm  of  poetry.  He  told  me  tliat 
be  had  uow  gotten  a  story  fbr  a  dnuoa, 
which  he  was  to  call  Rob  ItlacQuechau's 
£lshon.  tttim  a  popular  story  of  Bobett 
Bruce  being  defeated  on  the  water  of  Caem, 
when  the  lieel  of  his  boot  having  loosened 
in  his  flight,  he  applied  to  Kobert  Mac- 
quecban  to  lit  itj  who^  ^-  _.-■.- 


iwlni 


sheeL    ■ 


w  going  on  at  a  great  rate, 
Mr.  S popijed  in  hii  head ;  which  put 

very  interesting.    Yet  in  a  little  while  it 
was  resumed ;  and  such  was  the  force  and 


cheeks,  albeit  uuused  to  tlie  poetic  strain. 
•  •  •  From  that  time  we  met  no  more, 
aud  I  was  grieved  at  the  reports  of  iiim 
afterwards.  Poor  Bums!  we  shall  hardly 
ever  see  bis  like  again.  He  was,  in  truth,  a 
sort  of  comet  in  hterature,  irregular  in  its 
Diotions,  which  did  not  do  good  propor- 
tioned to  the  blaze  oC  light  it  displayei" 
In  the  summer  of  17S1,  two  English 


gentlemen,  who  had  before  met  with  him  in 
Edinbuigh,  paid  a  visit  to  him  at  EUisland- 
On  calling  at  the  house,  they  were  injormed 
that  he  had  walked  out  on  the  banks  of  the 
river;  and  dismounting  from  their  horses. 


liey  proi 


ded  in  si 


rook  that  projected  into  the  stream,  they 
saw  a  man  employed  in  angling,  of  a 
singular  appeBrance,  He  had  a  cap  made 
of  a  fox's  skin  on  his  bead,  a  loose  great- 
coat flied  tumid  him  by  a  belt,  from  which 
depended  an  enormons  Highland  broad- 
sword. It  was  Burns.  He  received  them 
with  great  cordiality,  and  asked  them  to 
sliare  his  humble  dinner — an  invitation 
which  they  accepted.  On  the  table  they 
found  boiled  beef,  with  vegetables,  and 
barley-broth,  after  the  manner  of  Scotland, 
of  which  they  partook  heartily.  After 
dinner,  the  bard  lold   them  iugenuously 

better  than  Ui^bhind  whisky,  a  bottle  of 
which  Mrs.  Bums  set  on  the  board.    Ho 

nude  of  Invetary  marble ;  and,  mixing  the 
spirit  with  walep  and  sugar,  hlled  their 
irlasies,  aud  invited  them  to  drink.  (»3)  I'be 
travellers  were  in  haste,  and,  bcHdes,  the 
Savour  of  the  whisky  to  their  aathrm 
palates  was  scarcely  tolerable;  but  the 
generous  poet  olfered  them  his  best,  aud 

mood,  and  the  charms  of  his  eonversation 

altogether  ftacinatmg.     He    ranged 

u  great  variety  of  topics,  illiuninatiug 

whatever  he  touched.    He  related  the  tales 

~  ' '  I  iiifiuicy  and  of  his  youth ;  he  recited 

of  the  gayest  and  some  of  tlie  ten- 

;  of  his  poems;  in  the  wildest  of  his 

s  of  mirth,  he  threw  in  some  toudica 

of  mekncholy.  and  spread  around  him  the 

trie    emotions  of  his    powerful  mind. 

oat;  tlie  marble  bowl  was  again  and 
in  emptied  and  replenished;  tlie  gneats 
lur  poet  forgot  the  flight  of  time,  and 
the  dictate)  of  prudence;  at  the  hour  al 
midn^ht  they  tost  their  way  in  retaming 
Dumfries,  and  coutd  scarcely  distingnisH 
when  assisted  by  the  moniiug's  dawn. 
Besides  hia  duties  in  the  excise,  and  biij 
ciai  pleasures,  other  eitcumstances  i 

form.    He  engaged  in  the  formation 
Bodely  for  purchasing  and  drpulaling  boofci 

y  the  formers  of  his  neighbonrbood,  oi 

he  undertook  the  mansgemeni ;  and 
capied  himself  occasioiialty  ii 
posing  songs  for  the  musicd  work  of  Mi. 


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LIFE  OF  EURSB. 


JolmBon,  thm  in  the  courae  of  pulilicatioD, 
Tltese  engaj^emcnts,  useful  aiul  hoiiounible 

abstraction  of  his  thooglits  from  this  husi- 
ueu  of  Dgricnltute, 

Tlie  eonsequencsa  may  he  easily  imagined. 
Notwithstanding  tho  luiifimn  pmdenee  and 
good  msiingement  o!  Mrs,  Burns,  an ' 
thaug;h  his  rent  was  moderate  and  reaso] 
able,  Qur  poet  found  it  convenient  if  ni 
neoesssry,  to  le^^  his  farm  to  Mr.  Mille 
after  having  occupied  it  tliree  years  and 
half.  FIls  ollice  in  the  eidse  had  or^iually 
moduced  nbout  SRy  pounds  per  annum. 
Having  atquitted  himself  to  the  satisfection 
of  the  hoard,  he  had  been  appointed  ' 
new  district,  the  emolnments  of  whidi 
to  about  seventy  pounds  per  annuzn. 
Htqimg  to  support  huoself  and  his  ftimily 
IHt  thia  humble  mcome  till  promotion  should 
reach  Um,  he  disposed  of  his  stock  and  of 
bjj  crop  on  KUislaiid  by  public  auction,  anil 
removed  to  a  small  house  whicli  he  had 
taken  in  Dumfries,  about  (he  end  of  tlie 
rear  1791. 

Hitherto  Bums,  though  addicted  to  e:icess 
in  sodsl  patties,  liad  abstained  from  ilie 
habitual  use  of  strong  liquors,  and  his  con- 

iiljuty  from  the  irrcgnlnriticB  of  his  conduct 
la  xiumfries,  tempcations  to  tkt  tin  thnt  to 
tia'dy  bewt  him  continually  presented  them- 
Bclves;  and  his  irre^ularntieB  grev  by 
degrees  into  habits.  Taeae  temptations 
mi^ipily  occurred  during  liis  engagemenla 
bt  the  business  of  his  oltice,  as  veil  as 
during  liis  hours  of  reloiaCion ;  and  though 
he  clearly  foresaw  the  consequence)  of 
yielding  to  them,  his  appetites  and  sensa- 
tions, vhieh  could  not  prevent  tlie  dictates 
of  hia  judgment,  tinaUy  trimnphed  over  the 
powers  of  his  wiU.  Yet  this  victory  was 
not  obtained  without  many  obsUnate  strug- 
gles, Bud  at  times  temperance  and  virtue 
seemed  to  have  obtained  the  mastery.  Be- 
sides bis  engagements  in  the  excise,  and  the 
society  into  wliioh  they  led,  many  circi^m- 
stances  coutnbaCed  to  the  melancholy  fate 
of  Bums.  His  great  celebrit;  made  hhn 
an  object  of  interest  and  curiosity  to 
strangers,  and  fi^  persons  of  cultivated 
minds  passed  through  Dumiries  without 
actemptmg  to  see  our  poet,  and  to  enjoy  I 
the  pleasure  of  bis  conveisacion.  As  he  i 
could  not  receive  them  under  his  own 
humble  roof,  these  hiterviews  passed  at  Ih-  ■ 
inns  of  the  town,  and  often  terminated  i. 
those  eicesses  which  Bums  sometimes  pro-  I 


lUng  persons 
-  lead  or 
partake 


accompany  him  to  the  tavern  i  t 

in  the  wildest  sallies  of  hia  wit;  (       

the  strength  and  the  degradation  of  his 

Still,  however,  he  cultivated  the  society 
of  persona  of  taste  and  of  respectabihty. 
uid  in  their  company  could  impose  on  him- 
self the  restraints  of  tempetiuice  and  de- 


a  his   D 

tlte  four  years  which  he  Ured  iu  Dumiriea, 
he  produced  many  of  his  beautiful  lyrics, 
though  it  does  not  ^penr  that  he  attempted 
any  poem  of  conud«able  length.  During 
this  time  he  made  several  eicnrsions  iuto 
the  nraghbouriug  country,  of  one  of  which, 
through  Oalloway,  an  account  is  preserved 
in  a  letter  of  Mr,  Syme,  mitten  soon  after; 
which,  as  it  gives  an  animated  picture  of 
him  by  a  correct  and  masterly  hand,  wfl 
shall  present  to  the  reader. 

"I  got  Bums  a  grey  Highland  shelty  to 
ride  on."  We  dined  tha  last  day,  ^Tth 
July,  17S3,  at  Glendenwynes  of  Parton !  a 
beautiful  situation  on  the  banks  of  the  l)ee. 
In  the  evemng  we  walked  out,  and  ascended 
B  gentle  eminence,  from  which  we  had  as 
flue  a  view  of  Alpine  scenery  as  can  well  bo 
imagined.  A  delightful  soft  evening  showed 
all  Its  wilder  as  well  as  its  gramier  graces. 
Immediately  opposite,  and  witliin  a  mile  of 

plac^  where  dwelt  Low.  the  autlwr  of  Mary 
meep  no  note  for  me,  (09)  Th'i  was  classic^ 
ground  fiir  Bums.  He  viewed 'thelugiiest 
hill  which  rises  o'er  the  source  of  Dee ; ' 
tJid  would  have  staid  till  'the  passing  spirit ' 
had  appeared,  bad  we  not  resolved  to  reach 
'ieimure  that  night.      We  arrived  as  Mt. 

lud  Airs.  Gordon  (100)  werx  sittii^  down 

0  supper. 
"  Here  is  a  geniuna  baron's  seat.    The 

lastle,  an  old  building,  stands  on  a  krga 

mitaral  moat.     Tn   front,  the    river    Ken 

winds  for  sereral  miles  through  the  most 

fertile  andheauriful  ioloi  (101),  till  it  ei- 

pands  into  a  kke  twelve  miles  long,  the 

banks  of  which,  on  the  soutli,  present  a  fine 

and  soft  landscape  of  green  ImoUs,  natural 

wood,  and  here  and  tliete  a  grey  rock.    On 

the  north,  the  aspect  is  great,  wild,  and,  1 

may    say,    tremendous.     In    slicrt,  I   can 

scarcely  conceive  a  scene  more  tembly  ro- 

idc  tliau  the  castle  of  Kenmnre.   Bums 

ks  so  highly  of  it,  that  he  meditates  a 

deacriptiou  of  it  in  poetry.    Ii^deed,  I  be- 

he  has  begun  the  work.    We  spent 

days  with  Mr.  Gordon,  v-hose  polislied 

hospilalitf  i>  of  an  oiigiud  and  eudearmg 


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ST.  MAKrS  ISLE. 


Mrs.  Gordon'!  l»p-<Iog,  Echo,  was 
She  would  have  an  epiUph  for  him. 

le.    This  WB3  setting  Harulea  to  his 
r.    He  disliked  the  subject;  but,  to 
i  the  lady,  he  would  try,    Uere  is 
lie  produced : — 
D  wood  DDd  wild,  ] 


"We  left  Kenmiire,  and  went  to  Gate- 
house. I  tooli  him  the  moor-road,  where 
Havage  and  desolate  regions  extended  wide 
around.  The  ak;  was  sympathetic  with  the 
vretcbcdness  of  the  soil ;  it  became  lower- 
iug  and  dark.  The  hollow  winds  sii-hed,  the 
lightnings  gleamed,  the  thunder  rolled.  Tlie 
|H>et  enjoyed  the  awful  sceue ;  he  spoke  not 

it  poured 
a  did  the 

wild  elements  ramile  their  belli/  full  upon 
our  defenceless  heads.  Ok !  oh !  'timi  foitl. 
We  got  utterly  wet ;  and,  to  retenge  our- 
adies.  Burns  insisted  at  Gatehouse  on  our 
getting:  utterly  diuuk. 

"  IVom  Gatehouse,  we  went  next  dav  to 
Siilciidbright,  through  a  fme  country.  But 
1. —  ¥ .  .,11  —  .Ljj(  Bmns  ]jad  got  j 


a  word,  b 

a  little  while  the  ra 


imedrapt  in  medits 
■  .began  to'" 


Jiad  been  thoroughly 
iried  inaoch 


boots  for  the  journe; 


been  dried 

possible  to  get  them  oi^  ags 
poet  tried  Aires,  and  tore  them  to  slueds. 
A  vhiffiing  vexation  of  this  sort  is  more 
trying  to  the  temi^er  than  a  serious  calamity. 
We  were  going  to  Sunt  Jlaty's  Isle,  tlie 
seat  of  the  Earl  of  Selkirk,  mid  the  forlorn 
Bums  was  discomfited  at  the  thought  of  his 
ruined  boota.  A.  sick  stomach,  and  a  head- 
ache, lent  thdr  aid,  and  the  man  of  verse 
was  quite  accabli,  T  attempted  to  reason 
with  hint.  Mercy  on  us,  how  he  did  tiime 
and  rage !  Nothing  could  reinstate  him  in 
temper.  I  tried  larioos  expedients,  and  at 
bat  hit  on  one  that  succeeded.    I  showed 

bayofWigton.  Ag^st  •  •  •  •  ,«ith 
whom  lie  *aa  offended,  he  expectorated  his 
spleen,  and  reg^ned  a  most  ^reeable  tem- 
I>er.  He  was  ui  a  most  epigmmniatis 
humout  indeed!     He    afterwards    fell   on 

whom  he  does  not  love.     He  had  a  passing 


-f  deceased  to  the  devil  went 


"Well,  T  am  to  bring  you  to  Kirkcudbright 
along  with  our  poet,  without  boots.  1 
carried  the  torn  ruins  across  my  saddle  in 
spite  of  hia  fulmuiatious,  and  in  contempt 


country,  J.  Dalsell.  But  Barns  was  m  a 
wild  end  obstreperous  humour,  and  swora 
he  would  not  dine  where  be  should  be  under 
the  smallest  restraint.  We  prevailed,  there- 
fore, on  Mr.  Dalzell  to  dine  with  us  in  the 
inn,  aud  had  a  very  agreeable  party.  In  tlis 
eveuing  we  set  out  for  St.  Mary's  Isle. 
Itobcrt    had  not  absolutely  refrained    t 


milkineas  of  good  temper,  and  it 

St.  ILuy's  Ii 

his  sense  of  the  word.    We  ar 


natural  and  cultivated  beauty.  But  not  Co 
dwell  on  ita  eslernid  graces,  let  me  lell  you 
that  we  found  all  the  ladies  of  the  family 
(all  heautifulj  at  home,  and  some  etcangers ; 


young  ladies  of  Selkirk  sang  also.  We  had 
the  song  of  I/ird  Gregory,  which  I  asked 
'"    ""    ' —   "~  opportunity  of  oJling  oi 


'lis  ballad  to  that  t^ 


Ha 


effeec  tli__ 

a  dead  silence  ensued.  It  was  such  a  silence 
as  a  mutd  of  feeling  naturally  preserves 
when  it  is  touched  with  that  enthusiasm 
which  banishes  every  other  thought  but  the 
contemplation  and  indulgence  of  the  syto- 
pthy  produced.  Burns's  Lord  Gregory  u, 
m  my  opinion,  a  most  beautiful  and  afftcl- 
ing  ballad.  Tile  fastidious  critic  may  per- 
haps say,  some  of  the  sentiments  and 
imagery  are  of  loo  elevated  a  kind  tor  such 
a  style  of  composition;  fbriustance,  'Thou 
bolt  of  Heaven  that  passest  by ; '  and, '  Ye 
mustering  thunder,'  &c. ;  but  thia  ia  a  cold- 


Ho,t,db,  Google 


IIFE  OF  BURKS. 


blooded  objection,  nhidi  will  l>e  laid  ratlier 
tbsafell. 

"  We  enjoyed  a  most  happy  eveninir  at 
Lord  Selkirk's.  We  hafl,  in  every  sens 
Hue  word,  a  feast,  in  which  our  minda  and 
our  aenses  were  eqnally  grati&ed.  The  poet 
^ns  delii^hl^d  with  his  company,  and  ac- 
quitted liimaelf  to  admiration.  The  lion 
that  had  taged  soriolently  inthemor"- 
vaa  now  as  mild  and  gentle  aa  a 
Nest  day  we  returned  to  Dumfries,  ai 


the  n 


Kenmnre,  Burns  vas  wrapt  in  med 
What  do  you  tbink  he  was  about  ? 
dlarging  the  Eoglisb  army,  alon 
Bruce,  at  Bannockbum.  ile  was  e 
iu  the  same  manner  on  our  ride 
from  St.  Mary's  Isle,  and  I  did  not 
him.    Next  day  he  produced  me  the 

gave  me  a  copy  for  Daliell  i — 


n  the  Eici 


toincd  hopes  of  pi 


carred  which  teiarded  their  fnllilment,  and 
which,  in  liig  own  mind,  destroyed  all  ei. 
peclation  of  thdt  being  eiei  futHIted.    The 

revolution  of  Fiance,  interested  the  feeluigs, 
and  eioted  the  hopes  of  men  ui  every 
of  Europe.  Prejudice  and  tyranny 
'  ~^—'t  to  disappear  from  among 
!  day-star     '  ""  ""'  " 


this  beautifi^mc 


rorld.    In  the  dawn 


„  lis  of  French 
freedom  appeared  on  our  southern  horiion 
with  the  countenauce  of  an  angel,  but 
speedily  assumed  the  features  of  a  demon, 
and  ¥aniahed  in  a  shower  of  hlood. 

Thoi^h    previously    a  Jacobite    and     a 
cavalier.  Bums  had  shared  in  the  ori^al 


ined     of    I 


anhly. 


d  by    1 


i    Fust, 


r    Conatii 


ibable,to 
to  hia  darii^iemper ;  and  the 
ed  scope  proposed  to  be  ^ven  to 
nd  of  talent,  was  doubtless  gratify- 
the  feeUugs  of  consoioua  but  in- 
genius.       Bums  foresaw  not  Che 


to  the  human  race.  And  even 
career  of  guilt  and  of  blood  com- 
e  could  not  immediately,  it  may 
ned,    withdraw  his   pattial    gase 


from  a  people  wha  hatl  so  lately  breathed 
tho    sentiments    of    universal    peace    and 

pictures  of  hope  and  of  happiness  to  which 
those  sentiments  had  given  buth.     Under 

duct  hunself  with  the  drcumspectioD  and 
prudence  which  bis  dependent  situation 
seemed  to  demand.    He  engaged,  indeed. 


piny  he  did  not  conceal  his  opinions  of 
public  measures,  or  of  the  reforms  required 
m  the  practice  of  our  government ;  and 
sometimes,  m  his  social  and  unguarded 
moments,  he  uttered  them  with  a  wild  and 

was  gi       to  h    Board       Excise,  with 

OL    gera         so  g  n  ral  n  such  cases. 

A     p  n       Hice     n    ha    d  partment  was 


Fmry] 
eloquence.     Die  oHicer  appc 


h    bo    d  j^Mr.  Graham 

VI  h  ifrea      dependence 

accustomed 


fovDUrable  re- 
port. (104)  His  steudjf  friend,  Mr,  Graham 
of  fintry,  interposed  his  good  oflicea  in  hia 
behalf;  and  the  imprudent  ganger  was 
auScred  to  retain  bis  situation,  but  given  to 
ind  that  his  promotion  was  deferred. 


sion  on  the  mind  of  Bums.  Fame  ei. 
aerated  his  misconduct,  and  representfld 
him  la  actually  dismissed  from  his  oRice ; 
and  this  report  induced  a  gentleman  of 
much  respectability  [iU.  EcsUne  of  Man 
to  propose  a  suhscriptioi 
The  offer  was  refused  bj 
letter  of  great  clevadon 


ind  defends 
if  disloyal  s. 


e  hand,  and  on  the  other,  from  the 
chai^  of  having  made  aubmiasions  for  the 
sake  of  hia  office  unworthy  of  his  character. 
"The  partiality  of  my  countrymen,"  he 
ohservea,  "has  brought  me  forward  as  a 
man  of  genius,  ond  has  given  me  a  character 
to  support.  In  the  poet  I  have  avowed 
manly  and  independent  sentir 
'  ipe  have  been  found  in  the  n 

■-  - ' --bt  than  the  — ■ 

mve  pointa 
occupatitBi  as  the  only  eli 
within  my  reach.  Still  my  honest  tame  is 
my  dearest  concern,  and  a  thousand  times 
liave  I  trembled  at  the  idea  of  the  degrading 


which  I 


Hosted  by  Google 


BUEKS'S  poiincs. 


epithets  that  mattes  «  nnsrepres^itsCion 
may  affix  to  my  name.  Often  in  biaating 
snlicipulion  have  I  listened  to  some  future 
hockuey  scribbler,  with  the  heavy  malice  of 
savage  stupidity,  eialtingly  asserting  that 
Bumi,  notwithstanding  the  funfiiTimade  of 
ind^raidence  to  be  found  in  his  vorks,  and 
after  having  been  held  up  to  puhlic  view, 
and  to  pubUc  estimatiaa,  as  a  man  of  some 
genios,  yet,  quite  destitute  of  resources 
within  himself  to  support  his  borrowed 
dignity,  dwindled  into  a  paltry  etciaeraan, 

among  the  lowest  of  mankind. 

"  In  your  illustrious  hands.  Sir,  permit  me 
to  lodge  my  strong  disavowal  and  dettance 
of  sucli  slanderous  falsehoods.  Burns  was 
a  poor  man  from  his  birth,  and  au  excisemftn 
by  necessity;  but— I  viill  say  it!  the 
Blerling  of  his  honest  worth  poverty  could 
not  debase,  and  liis  indepenileiit  British 
■piTit  oppression  might  bend,  but  cotdd  not 
Bubdue." 

copy  this  letter  into  his  book  of  mauuscripti, 
aeeompanied  by  some  additional  remarks  on 
the  same  subject.  It  is  not  surpiising,  that 
■t  a  season  of  universa!  alarm  for  the 
safety  of  the  constitution,  the  indiscreet 
ejpreasions  of  a  man  so  powerfid  as  Kuma 
should  have  attracted  notice.  The  times 
eerlainly  required  ei:trB0t3inary  vigilance  in 
those  entrnated  with  the  administration  of 
the  government,  and  to  ensure  the  safety  of 
the  constitntion  was  doubtless  their  first 
duty.      Yet   generoBS 


tion  should 
]f  our  poet 
5  hopes    of 


have  robbed  tl 

independence  rested;  and  _ 
liis  peace,  have  aggravated  those  excesses 
whidi  were  soon  to  conduct  him  to  an 
untimely  grave.  (105) 

Thongh  the  vehemence  of  Bums's  temper, 
increased  as  it  often  was  by  stimulating 
liquors,  might  lead  Mm  into  niany  improper 
and  unguarded  espreasiona,  there  seems  no 

mised  form  of  government.  In  hia  common- 
place book,  wliere  he  could  have  no  tempta- 
tion to  disguise,  ate  the  following  senti- 
ments:— "Whatever  might  be  my  sentiments 
c^  republics,  ancient  or  modem,  as  to 
Britain,  1  ever  abjured  the  idea.  A  con- 
■Utution,  nhich,  in  its  original  piindples, 
experience  has  proved  to  be  every  way  fitted 
for  OUT  happiness,  it  would  be  insanity  to 
abandon  for  an  untried  visionary  theory." 


?  pressing  nature  of  public  afFura  called, 

1795,  for  a  general  arming  of  the  people, 

uTis  appeared  in  the  ranks  of  the  Dumfries 

Innteers,  and  employed  his  poetical  talents 

stimnlating  their  patriotism  (106);  and 

at  this  season  of  alarm,  he  brought  forward 

tlie  following  hymn,  worthy  of  the  Gredan 

Muse,  when  Greece  was  most  conspicuoos 

for  genius  and  valour : — 


well,  thou  fair  day,  thou  gr 


Thou  grim  king  of  terror: 
Go,  frighten  the  cowan 


lianties  and  the  delicacies  that  belong  to 
the  temp^'unent  of  genius.  He  was  liable, 
from  a  very  early  period  of  life,  to  that 
interruption  in  the  process  of  digestion, 
which  arises  from  deep  and  anxious  though^ 

sometimes  the  cause,  of  depression  of 
spirits.  Connected  with  this  disorder  of  the 
stomach,  there  was  a  diajiosition  to  head, 
ache,  affecting  more  especially  the  temples 
and  eye-baUa,  and  frequently  accompanied 
by  violent  and  irregular  movements  of  the 
heart.  Endowed  by  natura  with  great 
sensibility  of  nerves,  Bums  was,  in  hia  lor- 

Ereal,  .as  well  as  in  his  mental  system, 
ble  to  inordiiuite  impressions — to  fevet 
of  body  as  well  as  of  mind.  This  pre- 
disposition to  disease,  which  strict  tempe- 
rance in  diet,  regular  oercise,  and  soimd 
sleep,  ntight  have  aubdned,  habits  of  a  ve^ 
different  nature  strengthened  and  infiamed. 
Perpetually  stimulated  by  alcohol  in  one  or 
other  of  its  varions  forms,  the  inordinate 
actions  of  the  urculating  system  became  at 
length  habitual ;   the  piocesa  of  nutcition 


Ho,t,db,  Google 


UPE   OP   BVSN5. 


•Kis  nniiWe  to  mpply  the  weste,  and  the 
powers  of  life  b^an  to  ^iL  Upwards  of  a 
jeu  before  his  death,  there  was  an  evident 
dediue  in  oni  poet's  persoiul  appearance, 
and  though  his  appetite  continned  unim- 
pured,  he  was  himerif  senuble  that  hia 
constitution  was  sinking^.  In  his  moments 
of  thought  he  reflected  with  the  deepest 
regret  on  his  ^al  pto^n^ess.  clearly  foresee- 
ing the  goal  towards  which  he  was  hastening, 
without  the  strength  of  mind  necesaary  to 


rncabts 


gloomy :  he  lied  from  himself  into  society, 
often  of  the  lowest  kind.  And  in  such 
company,  that  part  of  the  coniivial  scene  in 
which  wine  increases  sensibility  and  excites 
benevolence,  was  buttied  over,  to  reach  tlie 
mioceediiig  part,  over  wWdi  unconttoWed 
passion  generally  preaded.  He  who  suffers 
the  pollution  of  inebriation,  how  shall  he 
esoape  other  pollution?  But  let  us  refrain 
from  the  mention  of  errors  over  which 
delicacy  and  humanity  draw  the  veiL 

[A  similar  view  of  tlie  latter  days  of 
Burns  la  taiien  bi'his  biogrflphera,  lieron, 
Ir?ing,  Walker,  ^d,  in  general,  by  all  who 
vrote  soon  after  his  death.  Mr.  Lockhart, 
supported  by  attestations  from  Gilbert 
Burns,  James  Gray,  then  rector  of  tlie 
pammar-school  of  Dumfries,  and  Mr.  Find- 
later,  the  poet^s  superior  officer,  ^vcs  a 
more  finmtnble  representation.  The  letter 
of  Gray  presents  so  interesting  a  picture  of 

the  temptation  to  coimecl  it  with  the  text 

"  I  love  Dr.  Currie.  but  " 


iiideroti 


I  shaU 


deter  me  from  a  bold  dei;laration  of  the 
truth.  The  poet  of  the  Cotter's  Saturday 
Night,  who  felt  all  the  charms  of  the 
humble  piety  and  virtue  which  he  sang,  is 
chafed  (in  Dr.  Currie's  narrative)  with 
vices  which  would  reduce  him  to  a  level 
with  the  moat  deptaded  of  his  spedes.  As 
1  knew  hhn  during  that  period  of  bis  life 
emphatically   called   his    evil    daj's,  I 


|«  cbservatim 


t  my  II 


eitenua 


errors,  becanse  they  trere  combined  vith 
gennu;  on  that  account,  they  were  only 
the    more  dangerous,    because    the   more 

prehension ;  but  I  shall  likewise  claim  that 
Dolhjng  may  be  said  in  malice  even  agamst 


tessionally,  that  he  superintended  the  educa- 
tion of  his  children  with  a  degree  of  care 
that  I  huve  itevei  seen  tuipaaaed  by  any 


parent  in  any  rank  of  lifb  whaterer.  Jn 
the  bosom  of  his  family  he  spent  many  a 
delightful  hour  in  directing  the  studies  of 
his  eldest  son,  a  boy  of  uncommon  talents. 
I  have  frequently  found  him  esplaining  to 

of  age,  the  English  poets,  from  Sliakspeate 
to  Griiy,  or  storing  his  mind  with  eiaioplei 
of  heroic  virtue,  as  they  live  in  the  pa|,es  of 
our  most  cdcbrated  English  histonaiis  I 
would  ask  any  person  of  common  candour, 
if  employments  bke  these  are  consistent 
with  iabiuBl  dnaiiaiKal  I  It  is  not  denied 
that  he  sometimes  mingled  with  t/mety 
unworthy  of  him.  He  was  of  a  social  and 
convivial  nature.  He  was  courted  bv  all 
classes  of  men  for  the  ^isdnating  powers  of 
hij  conversation,  but  over  bis  sodal  scene 
uncontrolled  pasMon  never  presided.  Over 
the  social  bowl,  hia  wit  flashed  for  hours 
tt^ther,  penetrating;  wliatever    it  atrnck. 


Uke  tl 


e  fron 


hour  of  thoughtless  gaiety  and  meti^meuc, 
I  never  knew  it  tainted  by  indecency-  It 
was  playful  or  caustic  by  turns,  following  an 
allusion  through  all  its  windings ;  astonish- 
ing by  its  rapidity,  or  amusmg  by  its  Hild 
originality,  aiid  groleeque,  yet  natural  cim- 
binatjons,  but  never,  within  my  observotion, 
di^ustiug  by  its  grossness.  In  bis  morning 
hours,  1  never  saw  liini  like  one  suflerui^ 
from  the  effects  of  last  night's  intemperance. 
He  appeared  theii  cleiv  and  unclouded.  He 
was  the  eloquent  advoi   '       *   ' 


would  hardly  have  been  possible  to  conceive 
any  beiug  more  interesting  and  deligbiful. 
I  may  likewise  add,  (hat.  to  tlie  very  end  of 
his  hfe,  rea^ig  was  his  favourite  amuse- 

intimalely  acquMntcd  vrith  the  elegant 
Knglish  authors.  He  seemed  to  liave  the 
poets  by  heart.  The  prose  authors  he  could 
quote  either  in  their  own  words,  or  clothe 
their  ideas  in  language  more  beautiful  than 
their  own.  Nor  was  there  ever  any  decay 
in  any  of  the  powers  of  his  mind.  To  tha 
last  day  of  hia  life,  his  judgment,  bis 
memory,  his  imagination,  were  fi«h  and 
vigorous  as  when  he  composed  the  Cotter's 
Saturday  Night.  The  truth  is,  that  Burns 
was  seldom  indmcoled.  The  drunkard  soon 
becomes  besotted,  and  is  shuimed  even  by 
the  convivial.  Had  he  been  so.  he  could 
not  long  have  continued  die  idol  of  every 


Hosted  by  Google 


HABITS  OF  IHTOSICATION. 


atj.    It  will  be  fteely  confessed,  th 
boar  of   enjoyment  was  oft«u    prolan^ed 
beyond  the  limit  marked  hy  pmdeuce ;  \   ^ 
what  man  will  venture  to  Blfirm,  that 
situatiooa  where  he  waa  conscious  of  gi'ing 

listened  to  hei  Toiee  ? 

" The  meo  with  nhom  he  genenlly 
(anted  vere  not  of  the  lowest  order,  He 
numbered  among  hia  intimate  frienda  man 
of  the  most  respectable  inhabitauts  of  Dun 
tiiea  and  the  lidnity.  Severe!  of  those  wei 
attached  to  him  by  ties  that  th  e  hand  of  tl 
cehnnny,  busy  bs  it  was,  could  never  ana 
asuiiier.  Tliey  admired  tha  poet  for  h 
geuiua,  and  loved  the  man  for  the  candon 
generosity,  and  kindnesa  of  hia  nature.  Hi 
earl;  fiieada  dnng  to  him  through  good  an 
bad  regioit,  with  a  zeal  and  Sdelity  tha 
prove  their  disbelief  of  the  malicious  atorie 
drculated  to  hit  disadvantage.  Among  thei 
were  some  of  the  moat  distinguished  diarac- 
ters  in  this  country,  and  not  a  few  females 
eminent  (br  delicacy,  taste,  and  gcRias.  lliey 
were  proud  of  his  friendship,  aud  clieris  lied 


In  the  midst  of  all  his  n'ondecings.  Bums 
met  nothing  in  his  domestic  circle  bat  gen- 
tleneas  and  forgiveneaa,  except  in  the  gnavr- 
higa  of  his  own  remorse.  He  acknowledged 
his  tiansgiessicns  t«  the  wif^  of  his  bosom, 
promised  amendment,       '        ■         ■        - 


But  ( 


(he  strength  of  hia  body  dece. 

tion  hecsine  ffeebler,  and  habit  acquired  pre- 

domiuating  strength. 

From  October  1795  to  the  January  follow- 
ing, an  accirfeiital  complaint  coniined  him  to 
the  house.  A  f«w  days  after  he  began  to  go 
ahroad,  he  dined  at  a  tavern,  and  returned 
home  aboDt  three  o'chiclt  in  a  very  cold 
morning,  benumbed  and  intoiicated.  (108) 
This  was  followed  by  an  attack  of  rheuma- 
tism, which  conAned  him  about  a  week.  His 
^ipetite  now  began  to  foil ;  his  hand  shook, 
■nd  his  Toice  faltered  on  any  exertion  or 
emotion.  His  pulse  became  weaker  and 
more  rapid,  and  psin  in  the  lai^c  joiuts,  and 
IB  the  hands  and  feet,  depiived  lum  of  the 
enjoyment  of  refreshing  sleep.  Too  much 
dejected  In  his  spirits,  and  too  well  aware  of 

:  approach- 


is  hoped  by  some  of  bii  (rieodi),  tlwt 


if  be  could  Uve  through  the  montha  of 
apritig,  the  succeeding  season  might  restore 
him.  Sut  they  were  disappointed,  'lite 
genial  beams  of  the  sun  infused  no  vigour 
into  bis  languid  frame;  the  summer  wind 


About  t 


of 


medical  advice,  as  well  as  of  every  species  of 
control,  he  deietraioedfor  himself  to  try  the 
effects  of  bathing  in  the  sea.  For  this  puh 
pose  he  took  up  his  residence  at  Brow,  in 
Anuandale,  about  ten  mdes  east  of  Dum- 
fries, on  the  shore  of  the  Solway  Firth. 

It  happened  that  at  that  time  a  kdy  with 
whom  he  had  been  connected  in  ftiendsliip 
by  the  sympathies  of  kindred  gemos,  was 
residing  in  the  hnniediat«  ne^hbourhood. 
(1(19)  £eiug  mformed  of  his  arrival,  she  in- 
vited him  to  duiucr,  aiid  sent  her  carriage 
'    '  ■     "    "'        ' "  "  he  lodged,  as 


nuble  t 


walk. 


aaya 


us  lady  (in  a  confidential  letter  to  a 
written  soon  after),  "  n-ith  his  appear- 
n  entering  the  room,    llie  stamp  of 


replied,  that  it  seemed  a  doubtful  case  which 
of  us  shouM  be  there  soonest,  and  that  £ 
hoped  he  would  yet  liie  to  write  my  epitaph. 


on  of  all  his  i 


irihly 


prospects.     He  spoke  of  his 

—    f  tha  ostentation  of  philosophy,  but 

firmness  as  well  as  feeling,  as  an  event 
hkely  to  happen  very  soon,  and  which  gave 
■■"      loucera  cliieily  from  leaving  his  four 

en  so  youi^  and  unprotected,  and  hia 

eipectalion  of  lymg  in  of  a  fifth.  He  men- 
tioned, with  seeming  pride  and  satisfaction, 
the  promising  genius  of  hia  eldest  sou,  and 
the  flattering  marks  of  approbation  he  had 
-ecaved  from  his  teachers,  aud  dwelt  par- 
icularlj  on  his  hopes  of  that  boy's  futuri) 
onduct  and  merit.  His  anitety  for  his 
imily  seemed  to  hang  heavy  upon  him,  and 
he  more  perhaps  from  the  reflection  that  ha 
ad  not  dime  them  all  the  justice  he  was  so 
jcll  qualified  to  do.  Passing  from  this  sub- 
ject, lie  showed  great  concern  about  the  cue 


Ho,t,db,  Google 


LIFE   OF   BUESS. 


of  1ii>  litcmy  &me,  *nd  partkularlif  tbe 
pnblicBtiau  of  hia  posthumous  vorks.  He 
■aid  he  nas  well  anare  that  his  death  would 
vccasiou  9DDK  noisE,  and  that  every  scrap  of 
his  wriUng  would  l>e  revived  against  him  ■  - 
the  ijgory  of  his  future  reputation;  th 
letters  and  verses  writteu  with  unguardr 
and  improper  freedotn.and  whieb  lie  eaniesl 

banded  about  by  idle  vanity  or  malevolenc  , 
when  no  dread  of  his  leaentmenl  would  re- 


blast  his  faine. 

"  He  lamented  that  he  had  written  m 
epigrams  oa  penoua  against  uhum  he  en 
tained  no  enmity,  aod  whose  character! 


should 

different  poeti^  piece^  u 
would  uow;  with  dl  their  i 
th«r  heed,  be  tbiast  upon 

lit  he  deeply  regretced  liivuig  de- 
tut  his  papers  in  a  state  of  arraugc- 
hc  wAi  uow  qnite  incapable  of  the 
eiertiou."    The  lady  goes  on  to  men  ' 
niauy  other  topics  of  a  private  nature 
whidi  he  spoke.    "ITie  convHsation," 
adds,  "  was  kept  up  with  znM  evenness 
auiiualioii  ou  his  side.    Ihad  seldom  s .._ 
Ids  miad  greater  or  more  collected.    Utiere 
was  freqacuflya  couaiderable  degree  of  viva- 
city  in  his  salhes,  aiid  they  woald  probably 
ha^'e  had  a  greater  share,  had  not  the  eoo- 
cem  and  dejection  1  could    not    disguise 
damped  the  spirit  of  pleasantry  he  seemed 
not  uowilliiig  to  indulge. 

"  We  parted  about  sunset  on  the  evening 
oftbitday(lhe5Chof  July  1796):  tUeneit 
day  I  aa»  him  again,  and  we  parted  to  meet 

>ea  had  been  of  beueBt  to  turn :  the  pains  in 
his  limbs  were  relieied ;  but  ^is  was  imme- 
diatriy  followed  by  a  new  attack  of  fever 
When  brought  hack  to  his  own  house  in 
Dumtriea,  on  the  IStli  of  July,  he  was  no 
longer  able  to  stand  upright.  At  this  tine 
a  tremor  pervade  his  frame ;  his  tongue  was 
parched,  and  his  mind  Eanlt  into  delirium, 
when  not  roused  by  conversation.  On  tbe 
second  and  tliird  day  the  fever  increased,  and 
his  strength  diniinished.  On  the  fourth,  the 
sufferuigs  of  this  great,  hut  ill-tated  geiiiua, 
«ete  termmated ;  and  a  hfe  was  closed  in 
vhichiittue  and  paaaiou  had  beeain  perpetual 
riame.  (HO) 


Thed 


ia  his  character,  and  especially 


on  the  inhabitant?  of  the  town  and  county  in 
which  he  bad  spent  the  latter  years  of  his 
life.  Flagrant  as  his  follies  and  errors  had 
been,  they  had  not  deprived  him  of  the  re- 
spect and  regard  euleKained  for  the  eitra- 
ordinary  pon'ers  of  his  genius,  and  the 
geuerous  qualities  of  his  heart.  The  Gentle- 
men-Volunteers of  Unmfries  determined  to 
1)ury  their  illusCrioua  associate  nilh  nuUtary 
honours,  and  eveij  preparation  was  made  to 

Tlie  Fcucible  Inhntry  of  Angua-shire,  and 
the  regiment  of  cavalry  of  tbe  Cinque  Forts, 
at  that  time  quaitered  in  Dumfries,  offered 
their  assistance  on  this  occasion ;  the  prin- 
cipal inliahitaiits  of  the  tou^i  and  neighbcmr- 
buod  determined  to  walk  in  the  funeral 
procession ;  aud  a  vaat  concoutae  of  persona 
assembled,  some  of  them  Irotn  a  considerable 
distance,  to  witness  the  obsequies  of  the 
Scotlish  Bard.  On  the  evening  of  the  2ath 
of  July,  the  remains  of  Burns  were  removed 
from  his  honse  to  the  Town  Hall,  and  the 
funeral  took  place  oa  the  succeeding  day.  A 
party  of  tLie  volunteers,  selected  to  perform 
the  military  dutyin  the  chun:hyard,Btalioiied 
themselves  in  the  Ibsmt  of  the  procession,  with 

corps  surrouudcd  and  supported  tbe  eoWn, 
on  wliich  were  placed  tlie  hat  ajid  sword  of 
then' friend  and  faiow-soldier ;  thenumerous 
body  of  attendants  ranged  themselves  in  the 
rear;  while  the  Fencible  r^meut)  of  tantry 
aud  cavab'y  lined  the  street*  from  the  low 
Hall  to  the  burial  ground  in  th"  so  thera 
chiircliyard.  a  distance  of  moi«  than  1  ulf  a 
mile.  ITie  whole  procession  moved  fonvard 
to  that  sublime  and  aifecting  straiu  of  music, 
ilie  Dead  March  in  Saul;  aiid  three  voUea 
lired  over  his  grave  marked  tlia  ret  n  of 
ISums  to  his  parent  earth  1  The  spectacle 
was  in  a  high  degree  graud  and  solemn,  aud 
accorded  uith  the  general  sentiments  of 
sympathy  and  sorrov  which  the  occasion  had 
callal  fonh, 

it  was  au  affecting  circumstance,  that,  oa 
the  morning  of  the  day  of  her  husband's 
funeral,  Mrs.  Bums  was  undergoing  the 
pains  of  hibour ;  and  that  during  the  solemn 
service  wa  have  just  been  describing,  the 
poatlmmous  son  of  our  poet  nas  bom. 
This  mlant  hoy,  who  received  the  uiune  of 
Maxwell,  vas  not  destined  to  a  long  hSe. 
He  has  already  become  an  inhabitant  of  the 
same  grave  with  his  celebrated  Either.  T^o 
four  othec  children  of  our  poet,  all  sons  (the 


Ho,t,db,  Google 


ILLXESS  AND  DEATH  OP  ECRNS.  03 

cue  of  theic  affectiouale  molher  iii  Dum-  :  which  the  justice  end  genei-c«ity  of  that 
fries,  and  aie  eujojiu);  the  nuHns  of  educa-  gentleman  nas  pcessing  upon  him. 
tioa  which  the  eicdlenc  ichools  of  that  ,  'ITie  aense  of  his  poverty,  and  of  the  «p- 
towa  afTerd;  the  teachers  of  whidi,  in  \  proaching  distress  of  his  mfuot  ^mi^, 
iheir  conduct  to  the  chihlien  of  Bums,  do  i  pressed  hesvily  mi  Burns  as  he  lay  on  the 
^lemseltes  gteitt  honour.  On  thb  oeeasion  j  bed  of  death,  Yet  he  alluded  to  hia  indi- 
le  of  Mr.  Whyte  deserves  Co  he  par-  |reuce,  at  timea,  with  sometbing  approaebing 
..     .     .■ v„^_.,T3 


ticularly  mentioned,  himself  a  poet  as  well 
OS  a  man  of  science.  (Ill) 

Bums  died  in  great  poverty ;  but  the  in- 
(tependeuce  of  hia  spirit,  and  the  exemplary 
mudeoce  ot  his  wife,  had  preserved  him 
from  debt.  (112)  He  had  recnved  &om  hia 
pjeniB  a  dear  profit  of  about  nine  hundred 

Cads.  Of  this  nun,  the  part  expended  on 
library  (which  was  far  from  estensive) 
and  ia  the  humhle  furniture  of  his  house, 
ismained;  and  obhgBtions  were  found  for 
tivo hundred  pounds  advanced  by  lum  to  tiie 


by  the  ties  of  blood,  am 
of  esteem  and  alfedioi 
sideted,  that  his  ei:pensi 


united 


and  never  rose  to  above  seventy  poiiuds 
B-yPar ;  that  his  family  was  lai^,  and  his 
' "*'  ■     surprised  that 


liisei 


his  health  decayed,  his  prond  Bnd  feeling 
heart  sink  uuiIh:  the  secret  consciousness  irf 
indigence,  and  the  appreliensions  of  absolute 
want,  Tet  poverty  never  bent  the  spirit  of 
Bums  to  any  pecuirinry  meanness.  Neither 
rhii:iinery  nor  sordidneaa  ever  appeared  in 
his  conduct.     He  carried  his  disregard  of 

midst  of  distress  he  bore  himself  loftily  to 
the  Borld,  and  received  with  s  jealous  re- 
luetsuce  every  ofler  of  friendly  aasiatauce. 
Hia  printed  poems  had  procured  him  great 
celebrity,  and  a  just  and  lair  recompense  for 
the  latter  oifsprir^  of  hia  pen  might  have 
produced  him  considerable  emolument.  In 
the  year  1793,  the  editor  of  a  London  news- 
paper, h^h  in  its  character  for  hlerature  and 
indepeodence  of  sentiment,  made  n  proposal 
to  ium  tliat  he  should  furnish  them,  once 
B>week,  with  an  article  (or  thrir  poetical 
department,  and  receive  from  them  a  recom- 
pense of  fifty-two  guiueaa  per  annum ;  an 
olfer  which  the  pride  of  gemus  disdain^  to 
accept.  Yet  he  had  for  several  years  fur- 
lushed,  and  was  at  that  time  furnishing,  the 
Museum  of  Johnson  with  his  beautiful 
lyrics,  without  fee  ot  reward,  and  was  obsti- 
tiately  refusing  all  recompense  for  his  assist. 
Bncs  to  the  greater  work  of  Mr.  Thomsou, 


■  his  wonted  puety.  "W 
id  he  to  Dr.  Maiwell,  who 
ith  the  utmost  seal,  "  has 


hat  basic 
a  physic 


not  worth  plucking.      Alas!   1  have    not 

grave."  And  when  his  ressun  was  lost  in 
delirium,  his  ideas  ran  in  tbe  same  melan- 
choly train ;  the  horrora  of  a  jaU  were  con- 

and  produced  the  most  anccting  exclama- 

Aa  for  some  montha  previous  to  hia  death 
he  had  been  incapable  of  the  duties  of  hia 
oiGce,  Bums  dreaded  that  bis  salary  should 
be  reduced  one  half,  as  ia  usual  in   such 


Stohie  (113),  a  young  especiaot  hi  the  Bi- 

withoatRe  or  reuard;  and  Mr.  Graham  of 
Fintry,  lieating  of  his  illneaa,  though  un- 
acquainted with  its  dangerous  nature,  made 
^1  offer  of  his  aasialance  towards  procuring 
liim  tbe  means  of  preserving  his  health. 
Whatever  might  be  the  fiulta  of  Bums,  in- 

!...i jjiij  jij  (he  number.  Amongst 

ts,  various  proofs  are  found  of 
entertamed  of  Mr,  Graham's 
headship,  which  delicacy  towards  that  gen- 
tleman baa  induced  us  to  suppress ;  and  on 
this  last  occasion  there  is  do  doubt  that  his 
rerflowed  towards  him,  thoi^h  ha 


CZ 


had  no  lor^er 


feeluiga.(114) 

On  tlie  death  of  Bums,  the  inbabltunta 
of  Duintries  and  its  neighbourhood  opened 
a  aubaeription  for  tbe  support  of  his  wife 
and  family ;  and  Mr,  Miller,  Mr,  M'Murdo, 
Dr,  Ma,iweil,  Mr,  Syne,  and  Mr.  Cnnning- 
haro,  gentlemen  of  the  first  reBpectability, 
became  trustees  for  the  application  of  the 
money  to  its  proper  objects,  Tlie  aubsoip* 
tion  waa  extended  to  other  parts  of  Scotland, 
and  of  Engiand  also,  particularly  London 
and  Liverpool.    By  this  means  a  sum  was 

and  thus  the  widow  and  children  were  res- 
cued from  immediate  distress,  and  the  most 
melancholy  of  the  forehodmga  of  Bums 
happily  disappointed.  It  is  true,  this  sum, 
though  equal  Co  their  present  support,  is  in- 
sufficient to  secure  them  ftom  future  penmy. 


Ho,t,db,  Google 


LIFE  OF  BUHNS. 


'ili^  liope  in  regard  to  (ututitr  depenrla  on 
the  ftvoutalile  reception  of  these  vohimtB 
from  the  public  at  lai^e,  in  the  promoting  of 
which  the  cBodoar  wid  humsnity  of  the 
reader  nmy  induce  him  to  lend  his  aasiat- 

Siuns,  09  hus  Diready  been  laentioned, 
was  nearly  five  t«t  ten  inches  in  lieight,  and 
of  a  form  tliat  iiidicawd  agihty  as  weQ  as 
strength.  His  well-raised  forehead,  shaded 
With  black  curling  hair,  uidicated  eitenai™ 
caparaty.  Hia  eyea  were  large,  dark,  full  of 
ndour  and  intelligeace,  Hia  bee  was  well 
formed ;  and  his  countenauce  uncommonly 
interesting  and  eipreasive.  His  mode  of 
dresaing,  which  was  oflen  slovenly,  and  a 
Certahi  fuhiess  and  bend  in  his  thaulders. 


gnisediriaomedeg 

ree  the  natural  synu 

netry 

his  form.    The  es 

emal 

ngly 

iudicitive  of   the 

character  of   his 

iind. 

Onalirst  Tiew,hi 

phplognomy  had 

with  an  expression  of  deep  penetration,  and 
of  cahn  thonghtfulness,  appcoaching  to  me- 
kmcholy.  There  appeared  in  bis  lirsl  manner 
and  addreaa,  perfect  ease  and  self^posaeasion, 
but  a  stem  and  ahnoat  siipercilioua  elevation, 
not,  iudeed,  inainipatahle  with  openness  and 
■labihty,  which,  however,  bespoke  a  mind 


tijund  themadves  speedily  overawed  by  the 
presence  of  a  man  who  bore  hunself  with 
tenity,  and  who  possessed  a  singular  power 
of  correcting  torwardneas  and  of  rejwlling 
intrusion.  (115)  But  though  jealous  of  the 
respci^  due  to  himself.  Bums  never  enforced 
it  where  he  saw  it  was  ivilluigly  pjud ;  aud. 
though  maccesaible  to  the  approaches  of 
pride,  he  was  open  to  every  advance  of 
kindness  and  of  benevolence.  His  dark  and 
haughty  countenance  easily  relaxed  into  a 
look  of  good  will,  of  pity,  or  of  tendemeas; 

other  in  bis  mind,  aasmned  with  equal  ease 
the  eipressioD  at  the  broadeat  humour,  of 
the  most  eitrav^ant  mirth,  cf  the  deepest 
melancholy,  or  of  the  most  suulime  emotion. 
The  tones  of  hb  voice  happily  corresponded 
with  the  enpreasiou  of  hia  features,  and  with 
the  f^ngs  of  his  mind,  When  to  these 
endowments  are  added  a  rapid  and  diatmct 
apprehension,  a  moat  powerful  nnderatand- 
ing,  and  a  happy  command  of  language — of 
itreugth  as  well  as  brilliancy  of  eiiiression — 
we  shall  be  able  to  account  for  the  exttaoi- 


eompauy  of  n 


diniay  attractions  of  hia  conversation — for 


specially  apparent.  Theu-preaence  charmed 
he  hend  i^  melancholy  in  his  bosom,  and 
.HToke  bia  hapinest  fedinga ;  it  excited  the 
lowetaof  hia  fancy,  as  well  as  tlietendemesa 

itence  and  exuberance  of  his  language,  at 
imaa  gave  to  hia  manners  the  impteasion  of 

;o  they  seldom  possessed. 
. .  ras  doublleaa  redprocaJ.  A 
Scottish  lady  accustomed  to  the  beat  society, 
declared  nith  charseteristic  niiinli,  that  no 
man's  conversation  ever  carried  het  to  Krw- 
■pleltly  off  her  feet  as  that  of  Burns;  and 
an  Engliah  lady,  familiarly  acquainted  with 
several  of  tiic  most  distinguiahcd  characters 
of  the  present  times,  assured  the  editor,  that 
m  the  happiest  of  his  social  hours,  there  waa 
a  charm  about  Biuns  which  she  had  ntvet 

from  the  noB'er  than  tlie  versatility  of  hia 
geiiiiiB.  Mo  languor  could  be  felt  in  the 
aucleCy  of  a  man  who  passed  at  pleasure 
from  grrwe  lo  i/m/,  from  the  ludicrous  to 
the  pathetic,  from  the  simple  to  the  sub- 
Ume;  who  wielded  all  his  faculties  with 
equal  strength  and  ease,  and  never  failed  to 
impress  the  offspring  of  his  fancy  with  the 


rerbeanng;  he  was  jealoii 


By 


kind,  brave, 
lar  a^^rce  compa-f- 
other  hand  proud, 


sionate  he  waa  i 

irascible,  an!  vindictiie.  His  virtues  and  his 
&ihnga  had  their  ongm  in  tlie  extraordmary 
sensibdity  of  his  mmd  and  equally  partook 
of  the  cbilla  and  glowa  of  sentiment  His 
friendships  were  habic  to  interruption  from 
jcalouav  or  disgust  and  his  enmities  died 
away  under  the  infinence  of  pity  or  self- 
accusation  His  understand]  ig  was  equal 
to  the  other  powers  of  hia  mmd  and  his 
deliberate  opiniona  were  smgularly  candid 
and  juat  but  like  other  men  of  great  and 
irregular  genius  the  opinions  wbith  he  de 
bvered  m  conversation  wore  often  the 
oUapring  of  temporary  feelings,  and  widely 
diitereiit  from  the  ^m  deeisiont  of  his 
judgment.  This  was  not  merely  true  re- 
specting the  chaiactera  of  others,  but  in 


Ho,t,db,  Google 


CHAEACTEEI5TICS  OF  BURNS. 


ndeistB 


regard  to  some  of  the  most  in 
of  Ituiaai]  speculation. 

Oa  no  aubject  did  he  give  i 
proof  of  tlie  strength  of  his 
thw  in  tlie  conect  stimate  he  fonned  of 
himself.    He  knew  his  omt  faiiinga ;    he 

Siredkted  their  oonsEqnenee ;  tlie  melaBcholy 
oreboding  n'as  never  long  absent  from  his 
mind;  yet  bis  passions  carried  him  dann 
the  stream  of  error,  and  swept  him  over  the 
precipice  he  saw  directly  in  his  course.  The 
tital  defect  in  his  chuactei'  lay  in  tlie 
comparative  weakness  of  his  volition,  that 
BUperior  ftculty  of  the  mind, '    '  ' 


ing 


ther 


iagrwit  it 


..__  understanding,  alone 
deoonunated  raUonal ;  which  is  tlie  parent 
of  fortitude,  patience,  and  self-denial;  which, 
by  regulatiog  and  combinuig  human  eser- 

•- ly  be  said  to  have  effected  all  that 

Q  the  works  of  man,  iu  literature, 
on  the  lace  of  nature.  The 
ocenpationB  of  a  poet  are  not  calculated  to 
Btrenglhen  the  governing  powers  of  the 
mmd,  or  to  weaken  that  sensibility  which 
requires  perpetual   control,  since  it  gives 

119  1«  the  higher  posers  of  imagination. 
Uiifiirtonately,  the  &vourite  occupations  of 
genius  are  calculated  to  increaae  all  its  pecu- 
haritiea;  to  nonrisli  that  lofty  pride  nhich 
disdains  the  littleness  ot  pmdenis,  and  the 
rettrictions  of  order:  and,  by  indulgence, 
to  increaae  tiiat  smsibiUty  which,  in  the 
present  form  of  our  existence,  ia  scarcely 
compatible  with  peace  or  bappmeaa,  even 
vhen  accompanied  with  the  choicest  gifts  of 

!t  is  observed  by  one  who  was  a  fiiend 
and  associate  of  Bums  (116),  and  who  has 
contemplated  and  explained  the  system  of 
animated  natnre,  that  no  sentient  heingvrith 
mental  powera  greatly  superior  to  those  of 
men,  could  possibly  hve  and  be  happy  in 
this  world.  "If  such  a  being  really  existed," 
continues  lie,  "his  misery  would  be  extreme. 
'With  sensea  more  delicate  and  refined;  with 
perceptions  mote  aaute  and  penettatingi 
with  a  taste  ao  eigniute  Ihat  the  objects 
around  him  would  by  no  means  gratify  it ; 
obliged  to  feed  on  nourishment  too  gross  for 

miserable,  and  the  contmuation  of  his  eiist- 
ence  would  he  utterly  impossible.  Even  in 
onr  present  condition,  the  sameness  and  the 
insipidity  of  objects  and  pursuits,  the  futiUty 
itf  pleasure,  and  the  inHnite  aourcea  of  ex- 
emciatiug  pun,  are  supported  with  great 
diflieulty  by  cultivated  and  refined  minds, 
lucrcase  our  acnaibilities,  continue  the  same 


objects  and  situation,  and  do  man  coiddbe 
to  live." 

Thus  it  appean,  that  our  powers  of  se 


The  speculations  of  Mr.  Smellie  are  notto 
he  considered  as  the  dreams  of  a  theorist ; 
they  were  probably  founded  on  aad  experi- 
ence. The  beb"  he  auppoaea  "  with  senses 
more  delicate  and  refined,  -mth  perceptions 
more  acule  and  peoetra^ng,"  ia  to  be  (bund 
in  real  Ufe.  He  is  of  the  temperament  of 
genius,  and  perhaps  a  poet.  Is  tliere,  then, 
no  remedy  for  this  inordinate  sensibility? 
Are  there  no  means  by  which  the  hi^jpineas 
of  one  so  constituted  by  nature  may  be  con- 
sulted? Perhaps  it  will  be  found,  that 
t^ulor  and  constant  occupation,  irksome 
though  at  first  it  may  be,  is  the  true  remedy. 
Occupation  in  which  the  powers  of  the  un- 
derstanding ate  exercised,  will  diminish  tlie 
force  of  external  impressions,  and  keep  the. 

1'hxt  the  bent  of  every  man's  mind  shoulS 
be  followed  in  bis  education  and  iu  bis  des- 
tination in  life,  is  a  maxim  which  baa  beoi 
often  repeated,  but  which  cannot  be  admitted 
without  many  restrictions.  It  may  be  gene- 
rally tme  when  ap pUed  to  weak  minds,  whidi 
being  capable  of  Uttle,  must  be  encouraged 
and  strengthened  in  the  fCebte  impnkea  bj 
which  that  Uttle  is  produced  But  where 
indulgent  nature  has  bestowed  her  ^s  with 
aliberal  hand,  the  very  reverae  of  this  maxim 
ought  frequently  to  be  the  rule  ot  conduct. 
In  niiiida  of  a  higher  order,  the  object  of 
instruction  and  of  disdplme  is  very  often  to 
restrain,  rather  than  to  impel ;  to  enrii  the 
impulses  of  imagination,  so  tliat  the  passii»aB 
also  may  be  kept  under  control.  (117) 

Hence  the  advantages,  even  m  a  moral 
point  of  view,  of  studies  of  a  severer  nature 
w  hich,  while  they  inform  the  understanding, 
employ  the  vohtion,  that  regulating  power 
of  the  mind,  wbicl^  like  all  our  other  Acui- 
ties, is  strengthened  by  exercise,  and  on  the 
superiority  of  which  virtue,  hapjuness,  and 
honunrabte  fsone,  are  wholly  dcpendoit. 
Hence  also  the  advajitage  of  regidat  and 

tary  power  by  the  production  of  halnla  a> 
necessary  to  the  support  of  order  and  virtue 
and  so  difficult  to  be  formed  in  the  t 


The  n 


endowed  and  so  regulated,  may  pursm 
course  with  confidence  in  almost  an 
various  walks  of  life  which  choice 
dent  shall  open  to  him ;  and,  prcn 


Ho,t,db,  Google 


LIFE  OF  BDItNS. 


emplo)r  the  Uleiits  be  hns  cultivated,  mu; 
hope  for  such  imperfect  happiness,  snd  such 

pected  from  hnmiin  cieitions. 

The  pre-eminence  among  men,  whicli  pro- 
cnrcB  personal  respect,  and  which  t«niunates 
in  lastuig  rcpntatioii,  ia  Beldom  or  never 
obtained  by  the  excellence  of  a  single  faculty 
of  miiid.  Enperience  teachea  us.  that  it  has 
been  acquirefi  by  those  only  who  have  poB- 


^  the  CO 


and  the  e 


!   regulated 


general  talents,  and  who  hav 
th^  application  tn  the  line  wbtcu  L-[iuu:e>  or 
periiapa  acrident,  may  have  determined,  by 
tiiedktateaof  their  judgment.  ImBgioation 
is  supposed,  and  with  justice,  to  be  the 
leading  faculty  of  the  poet.  But  what  poet 
kaa  stood  the  test  of  time  by  the  force  of 
this  single  faculty?  Who  does  not  see  that 
and  Shalispeare  excelled  the  re  '    ' 


tkeir  i 


eUas 


ima^nMion ;  tbat  they  were  pre-emi 
the  highest  species  of  knowledge — the  know- 
ledge of  the  nature  and  ciiataeter  of  man? 
On  the  other  hand,  tbe  talent  of  ratiodnation 
ii  more  especially  requisite  to  the  orator; 
bat  no  man  ever  obtained  the  palm  of  oratory, 
even  by  tbe  highest  excellence  in  this  suigle 
talent.  Who  does  not  perceive  that  Dernos- 
tbeoes  and  Cicero  were  not  more  happy  in 
their  addresses  to  the  reason  than  in  tb«r 
appeals  to  the  passions?  They  knew,  that 
to  enrile,  to  agitate,  and  to  del^t,  are 
among  the  most  potent  arts  of  persuasion ; 
and  they  enforc^  their  impression  on  Iha 
nnderstaudii^,  by  their  command  of  all  the 
sympathies  of  Ihc  heart.  These  diservations 
might  be  extended  to  other  walks  of  lite. 
He  wbo  has  the  Unities  fitted  to  excel  in 
poetiy,  has  the  faculties  which,  didy  goiemed, 
and  jiftereiitly  directed,  miglit  lead  to  pre- 
eminence in  other,  and,  as  &r  as  respects 
himself,  perlisiia  in  happier  destinations. 
The  talents  necessary  to  ths  conswuction 
of  an  Iliad,  under  diCferent  disQ]]line  and 
application,  might  have  led  armies  to  lic- 
tory,  or  kingdoms  to  jarosperily ;  might  have 
tvielded  the  thuruler  of  eloquence,  or  dis- 
corered  and  enlarged  the  sciences  that  con- 
stitute the  pow^  and  improve  the  conditjon 
of  our  species.  (113)  Such  talents  are, 
indeed,  rare  among  tbe  produetians  of  na- 
ter^  and  occasions  of  bringing  them  into 

>alut*ry  occupations  may  be  found  for  men 


{tended,  and  prmciples  of  sc 


ment  of  art.  In  the  temperament  of  senar 
bility,  which  is,  in  truth,  the  temperament  of 
general  talents,  the  prioopal  object  of  disci- 
pline and  instruction  is,  as  has  already  been 
mentioned,  to  strengthen  the  self-cominand ; 
and  this  may  be  promoted  by  the  dnection  of 
the  studies,  more  effectually,  perhaps,  thui 
has  been  generally  uaderst^>od. 

It  these  observations  be  founded  m  truth, 
they  may  lead  to  practical  conseijnences  of 
some  importance.  It  has  been  too  much 
the  custom  to  consider  the  possession  of 
poetical  talents  as  excluding  the  possihility 
of  application  to  the  severer  branches  of 
study,  and  as,  in  some  degree,  incapacitating 
the  possessor  from  attaining  those  iiahits, 
and  from  bestowii^  that  attention,  whi^l 
are  necessary  to  success  in  the  details  of 
business,  and  in  the  engagements  of  active 
life.    It  has  been  common  for  persons  con- 

disilam  on  other  kinds  of  intellectual  excel- 
lence, and  to  consider  themselves  as  in  some 
degree  absolved  from  those  rules  of  prudence 
by  which  humbler  minds  are  restricted. 
'I'hey  are  too  much  disposed  Co  abandon 
themselves  to  their  own  sensations,  and  to 
suffer  life  to  pass  away  without  regular 

lint  though  men  of  genius  are  generally 
prone  to  iocfolence,  with  them  indolence  and 


nation  may.  indeed,  a 
gloom  which  inactivity  produces ;  but  such 
visions,  though  bright,  ate  transient,  and 
serve  to  east  the  reiitiea  of  hfe  into  deeper 
shade.  In  bestowing  great  talents.  Nature 
seems  very  generally  to  hjve  imposed  on  the 
possessor  the  necessity  of  exertion,  if  he 
would  escape  wrelchedness.  Belter  fcr  bim 
than  sloth,  toils  the  most  painful,  or  adven- 
tiaei  tlie  most  haiardous.    Happier  to  '■'— 


'.  the  0 


of   t 


labour  his 

scMity  food ;  w"  that  of  the  sailor,  though 
hailing  on  the  yard-arm,  and  wreatlii^  with 

These  observations  might  l>e  amply  illus- 
trated by  the  biography  of  men  of  goihis  of 
CTOry  denomination,  and  more  eapeaally  by 
the  biography  of  the  poets.  Of  this  last 
description  of  men,  few  seem  to  have  enjoyed 
the  usual  portion  of  happiness  that  fidls  to 
the  hit  of  humanity,  those  excepted  who 
have  caltivated  poetry  as  an  elegant  amuse- 
ment in  the  hours  of  relaxation  from  other 
occupations,  or  the  small  number  who  have 
eiigi^ed  with  snccesB  in  tbe  greateror  more 
arduous  atlempts  of  the  muse,  in  which  all 


Hosted  by  Google 


INFLUESCES  Of  MELAKCHOLT. 


id  hetdthjiil 


pot  seem  capable  of  bestowiog  on  u 
genhis  peace  and  tianqiiillity,  without 

occupationasmiiygi'E ' -"— ' 

nterciae  lo  the  facultits  m  uuuj  aim  uuuu. 
Tfae  amitible  Shenatone  has  left  ns  the  te- 
cords  of  his  imprudence,  of  his  mdolence, 
and  of  hia  unhappineas,  amidst  the  shades 
of  the  Leasowes ;  and  the  virtues,  the  leam- 
h)K,  end  (he  genius  of  Gray,  equal  to  the 
lo^st  attempts  of  the  epic  muse,  failed  to 
procure  him  in  the  acudeimc  bowers  of  Ctun- 
briiiM  that  tranquillity  and  tliat  respect 
which  less  fastidiousncaa  of  taste,  aud  greater 
constancy  and  vigout  of  etertion,  would  have 
douhtless  obtained. 

It  is  more  necessary  that  men  of  genius 
should  be  aware  of  the  importance  of  self- 
command,  and  of  exertion,  because  their 
indolence  is  peculiarly  eiposed,  not  merely 
to  unhappineas,  hut  to  dieeasea  of  mind,  and 
to  ctrota  of  conduct,  which  are  generally 
6tal.  This  intereaUng  subject  descries  a 
particidar  intestigation ;  but  we  roust  content 
ourselves  with  one  or  two  cursory  remarka. 
Belief  is  sometimes  songht  ^m  the  melan- 
choly of  indolence  in  practices  which,  (at  i 


ne,  soothe  and  gratily  the  senai 
darker  glooi 


iw.but 


„ ..         imaud  the  external 

drcumstances  hywhich  happiness  is  affected, 
isnot  Inhumanpower;  but  there  are  various 
Bubstances  in  txatnre  winch  operate  on  the 
system  of  the  nene3,ao  as  to  give  a  fictitious 
gaiety  to  the  ideas  of  imagination,  and  K> 
alter  the  effect  of  the  eiteroal  impressions 
which  we  reeeivfl.  Opium  is  chiefly  era. 
ployed  for  this  purpose  by  the  disaples  of 
Mahomet  and  the  inhabitants  of  Asia;  but 
ahmholi  the  principle  of  intoxication  in 
vinous  and  spirituous  liquors,  ia  preferred  in 
Europe,  and  is  universally  used  in  the  Chris- 
tian world,  (119)  Under  the  various  wounds  to 
which  indolent  insensibility  is  «sposed,  and 
under  the  gloomy  apprehensions  reapeeling 
futurity  to  which  it  is  so  oflen  a  prey,  how 
strong  is  the  temptation  to  hate  tecourae 
to  an  antidote  hy  which  the  pain  of  these 
wounds  is  suspended,  by  which  the  heart  is 
eshilirated,  visions  of  happiness  are  eicited 
in  the  mind,  and  the  forms  of  enteniiil  na- 
ture clothed  with  new  beamy  I 


lL«?2'.™±'''i 


!  liebten*d  soul. 


And  snngume  hopes  dispel  your  fleelinjt  cave; 
And  nbat  was  diamilt,  and  what  was  dire, 
Yields  to  your  prowess  and  aupecior  stars ; 
The  happtett  you  of  aU  that  e'er  were  mad, 


Willi  tenlbid  rage.    An  anxious 


ut  euelL  a  dim  de 


ay  the  throbbing  hcadl 


IS  your  soul,  as  niadd'ning  P< 


cation,  as  they  occur  m  the  temperament  of 
sensibihty,  described  by  a  genuine  poet,  with 
a  degree  of  truth  and  energy  which  nothing 
bat  exp«nence  could  have  dictated.  There 
are,  indeed,  some  individuals  of  this  tem- 
perament on  whom  wine  produces  no  eheo- 
ing  uifluence.  On  some,  even  in  very 
moderate  quantities,  its  effects  are  panf^illy 
irritWing;  in  large  draughts  it  eieites  dark 
and  melancholy  ideas ;  and  in  drai^hts  still 
larger,  the  fierceness  i^  insanity  itself,  Snch 
moi  are  hi{ipily  exempted  from  a  temptation 
to  which  experience  teaclies  us  the  finest 
diapoaitions  often  yield,  and  the  influence  of 
whidi,  when  strengthened  hy  habit,  .it  is  a 
humiliatmg  truth,  that  the  most  powerfnl 
minds  bave  not  been  able  to  resist 

It  is  the  more  nec^sary  for  men  of  genius 
to  bo  on  their  guard  againsl 


them 


as  seUishness  and  trniidi 


thero  its  eifccts  at 


r  uyun 


•.aiiy  Mid  morally. 


portion  to  ita  stimulating  ii 
system  (on  which  the  plcasumble  sensadona 
depend,  is  the  debUity  that  ensues — a  de- 
bility that  destroys  digestion,  and  Icrminatea 
in  habitual  fever,  dropsy,  jaundice,  paralysis, 
or  insanity.  As  the  strength  of  the  body 
decays,  the  volition  fails ;  in  proportion  aa 
the  sensations  are  soothed  and  gratified,  the 

is  the  parent  of  indolence,  because,  while  it 

exaggerates  aU  the  obstacles  to  exertion. 
Activity,  perseverance,  and  self-command, 
become  more  and  more  difficult,  and  the  great 
purposes  of  utility,  patriotism,  or  of  honour-- 


Ho,t,db,  Google 


LIFE  OF  BURNS. 


able  ambition,  vUch  had  occupied  the  ima-. 
gioatiOD,  die  avay  ia  fruitless  lesolutions,  or 
in  reebte  efforla. 

To  apply  these  obaervatioDS  to  theaubjcct 
of  our  iDemoirs.  would  be  a  useless  as  nell 
OS  a  paiikful  tisk.    It  ia,  indeed,  a  duty  we 

tioa  of  great  genins,  or  even  oui  pity  for  ita 
luihappy  destiny,  Co  conceal  oc  disguise  its 
errort.  But  there  are  aentiineuta  of  respect, 
find  even  ot  tenderness,  with  which  this 
duty  should  he  pcrfornieJ ;  there  is  au  awful 

dead ;  and  let  those  who  mondise  over  the 
graves  oC  their  oontemporariea,  reflect  with 


Soon  after  the  death  of  Bums,  the  follow- 
ing article  appeared  in  the  Dumfries  Journal, 
from  which  jt  was  copied  into  the  Edinbu^h 
newspapers,  and  into  various  other  periodicsl 
publications.  It  ia  ^m  the  el^aut  pen  of 
a  kdy.  alieady  alluded  to  in  tl^  conrae  of 
these  memou^  (120),  wliose  eierlious  for  the 
family  of  our  bard,  in  the  circles  of  literature 
and  fashion  ui  which  slie  moves,  have  done 
10  much  honour. 


"  It  will  actually  be  an  injustice  done  to 
Buma*s  character,  not  only  by  future  genera- 
native  Scotland,  and  perhaps  a  number  of  his 
contemporaries,  that  he  is  generally  talked  of, 
and  considered,  with  reference  to  hia  poetkai 
talents  only ;  for  the  fact  is,  eiren  allowing 
his  great  and  origuial  genius  its  due  tribute 
of  admiration,  that  poetry  (I  appeal  to  all 
who  have  had  tlie  advantage  of  being  per- 
sonally acquainted  with  him)  was  actually 
not  his  fiirlf.  Many  others,  perhaps,  may 
have  ascended  to  prouder  heights  in  the 
..^___,^ .... [ainlyev- 


^al 


"The  at 


much  occupied  at  . 
has  recenUy  sustained  in  the  death  of  the 
Caledonian  poet,  BoberC  Bums ;  a  loss  cal- 
culated to  be  severely  felt  throughout  the 
literary  world,  as  well  as  lamented  in  the 
narrower  sphere  of  private  friendship.  It 
was  not,  therefore,  probable  that  such  an 
it  should  be  long  unattended  with  (he 
LStomed  pioluaion  of  posthnmous  anec- 
dotes  and  memoirs  whieb  are  usually  circu- 
lated immediately  after  the  death  of  ev^ 
Tare  and  celebrated  personage :  I  had,  how- 
ev»,  cmceived  no  intentiou  of  appropriating 
to  myself  the  privil^e  of  critidsmg  Butns's 
mitings  and  character,  or  of  antidpatii^  on 
the  province  of  a  biographer. 

"  Conscious,  indeed,  of  my  own  inability  to 
do  justice  ia  such  a  subject,  I  should  have 
continued  wholly  silent,  had  misrepresenta- 
tion and  calumny  been  less  industrious ;  but 
B  rt^ard  to  truth,  no  less  tli«i  affection  for 
the  memory  of  a  friend,  must  no*  justify 
my  offering  to  the  publir  -  ' '----  -' 


ailment,  or  the  u 

brilliant  repartee ;  n  ... 

lieve,  ever  gifted  with  a  larger  portion  of  the 
'viotdamanina!  Hia  petaonal  endowments 
were  perfectly  correspondent  to  the  qualifi- 

his  action,  energy  itself — devoid  in  a  great 
measure  perhapa  of  those  graces,  of  that 
polish,  acquired  only  in  the  relinement  of 
aocietiea  where  hi  early  lif^  he  could  have  no 
opportunities  of  mixing;  but  where  such  was 
tlie  irresistible  power  of  attraction  that  en. 
otcled  him,  though  his  appearance  and 
manners  were  always  peculiar,  he  never  failed 
to  delight  and  to  eicel.    His  figure  seemed 

and  employments.  It  seemed  rathet  moulded 
by  nature  for  the  rough  exercises  of  agricul- 
ture, than  the  gentler  cultivation  of  the  Belles 
Letttes.  His  features  were  scamped  with 
the  hardy  character  of  independence,  and  the 
lirmnesa  of  conscious,  thoi^h  not  arrogant, 
pre-eminence ;  the  animated  eipteasiuns  of 

ipid  lightnings  of  his  eye  wwe  always 
the  hwbingers  of  some  flash  of  genius, 
whether  they  darted  the  fiery  glances  of 
insulted  and  indignant  superiority,  or  beamed 
with  the  tmpasf'--  "■ ' — '     '  '-  "■■' 


and  the  frequen 


whicl 
quaintauee  with  Burns, 
opportniiities  I  have  had  ot  i 
bis  happy  qualities  and  his  ftiilings  for  several 
years  past,  have  enabled  me  to  communicate. 


.  1  the  magic  of  his  e;  . 
sonorous,  replete  with  the  ftncst  modulations, 
it  alternate^  captivated  the  ear  with  the 
radody  of  poetic  numbers,  the  perspicuity  of 

enthusiastic  patriotism.  The  keenness  of 
satire  was,  I  am  almost  at  a  loss  whether  to 
say,his  j^rfe  or  his  foibte;  for  though  nature 
had  endowed  him  with  a  portion  of  the  most 
pointed  eicellence  in  that  dangerous  talent, 
he  suffered  it  too  often  to  he  the  vehicle  of 
person^,  and  Eometimes  unfounded,  animo- 
sities.   It  was  not  dwi^  tliat  apotliveuea 


Ho,t,db,  Google 


IHADEQUACT  OF  HATTVE  CRITICISM. 


Lently  direclfd  aa  the  caprice 
inC  aniTfeated,  or  ba  the  nItorcD 
ni  persons  happened  i< 


there 

averaion.    This,  howeser, 

the  ease;  hiawit  (which  is  no  unusual 

indeed)  had  always  the  sCarC  ofhtajudgi 

and  would  lead  him  to  the  indn^-en 

taillery  nnifomily  acute,  but  often  aecoi^- 

nied  with  the  least  desire  to  vonnd.    The 

■nppreiaion  of  an  arch  and  full-pointed  ioi 


sage  of  Zu 

^tiith'! 
fn'^Su 

rich  TCry  properly 
obi  «mght  for  in  th 
Burns  must  not  he 
r  heing  rather  de 

JriUimeti™" 
Torick, that 

d  do.  "Twas  no 
to  say  of  him,  as 
'for  e»eryten  joke 

experienced  the  corbe  imposed  by  the  ni 
wardness  of  his  fortune.  Tlie  i-ivacity 
bia  wishes  and  temper  vas  indeed  checked  hy 
almost  habitual  diaappoiutmeiita,  which  sat 
heavy  on  a  heart  that  acknowledged  the 
nibng  piasion  of  independence,  without 
having  ever  been  pTaced  beyond  the  grasp  of 
penury.  His  soul  was  never  lauguid  or  in- 
active, and  his  genius  B'»s  extinguished  only 
with  the  last  spark  of  retreating  life.  His 
passions  rendered  him,  according  as  they 
disclosed  themaelves  in  affection  or  antipathy, 
an  object  of  enthusiastic  attachment,  or  of 
decided  enmity;  for  *c  poaseaaed  none  of 
that  negative  insipidity  of  character,  whose 
love  might  be  regarded  with  indiil^nce,  m 
whose  resentment  coulrl  be  considered  ivith 
contempt.  In  this,  it  abould  seem,  the 
temper  of  his  associates  took  the  tincture 
fix>m  Ills  own;  for  ie  acknowledged  in  the 
universe  hut  two  classes  of  objects,  those  of 
adoration  the  moat  fervent,  or  of  aversion  the 
most  uncontrollable ;  and  it  has  been  fre- 
quently a  reproach  to  him,  that,  unsusc^tible 
of  inilitference,  often  hating  where  he  onght 
only  to  have  despised,  he  altHiiately  opened 
bia  heart  and  poured  forth  the  treasures  of 
his  nndeislanding  to  such  as  were  incapable 
of  appreciatii^  the  homage ;  and  ^vated  to 
"■-  -ivileges  f  -    --■ -■-- 


"It  is  said  tliat  the  celebrated  Dr.  Johnson 
profeased  to  '  love  a  good  hater ' — a  tempera, 
ment  that  would  have  singularly  adapted  him 
to  cherish  a  pceposseasion  in  favour  of  oar 

of  the  surly  doctor  in  this  qualiGeatian,  ai 
lot^  as  the  disposition  toilUwill  continued! 
but  the  warmtb  of  his  passions  was  fbrtib 
naiely  corrected  by  their  tersatility.  He  wai 
seldom,  indeed  uever,  implacable  in  bis  re- 
alleged, not  inviolably  futhfal  in  his  engage- 
ments of  friendslup.  Much,  indeed,  has 
been  said  about  his  inconstancy  and  caprice; 
but  I  am  incUned  to  believe,  that  they  ori^ 
natedless  inalevity  of  sentiment,  than  from 
an  extreme  impetuosity  of  feeling,  which 
rendered  him  prompt  to  take  umbrage ;  and 
his  sensations  of  pique,  where  he  fancied  he 
had  discovered  the  traces  of  neglect,  scorn, 
or  Bnkindness,  toot  thMT  measure  of  asperity 


on  the  return  of  calmer  reOection.     H 

and  Ilia  mtowat  was  a  rrjiomlioR,  His 
fi^i  never  forsaking  him  for  a  momei 
value  of  a  frank  acknowledgment  wi 
hanccd  tenfold  towards 


t,  tha 


a  generoa 
idedwith  I 
His  mind,  organised  only  for  the  stronger 
arul  more  acute  operations  of  the  passions, 
was  impracticable  to  the  efforts  ffl  super- 
cihonsnesa  that  would  have  depressed  it  into 
humility,  and  equally  superior  to  the  en- 
croaehmenti  of  venal  suggestions  that  might 
have  led  him  into  the  maies  of  iiypowiay. 

"It  has  been  observed  that  he  was  far  from 
averse  to  the  incenae  of  flattery,  and  eould 
receive  it  tempered  with  less  delicacy  than 
might  have  been  expected,  as  he  seldom 
tran^reased  extravagantly  in  that  way  him- 
self; where  be  paid  a  com[>bmentj  it  might 
iudeed  claim  the  power  ol  intoxication,  as 
approbation  from  him  was  always  an  honest 
tribute  from  the  warmth  and  sincerity  of  his 
heart.  It  has  been  sometimes  represented 
hy  those  who,  it  should  seem,  bad  a  view  to 
depreciate,  though  they  could  not  hope 
—'■■""  *-    obscure,  that  native    brilliancy 


which  the  powers  of  this  eiti 
bad  invi^ably  bestowed  on  e 
came  from  lus  " 
of  the  Ayishiti 
fiction,  fahtieat 


y  thing  that 


that  the  1 


mr poses  of  obtain- 
iBt,  and  euhaueing 
ity  required  no  foil. 
■Hie  Cotter's  Saturday  Night.  Tarn  o'  Shan- 
and  The  Uoontaia  Daisy,  besides  a 


Ho,t,db,  Google 


LIFE  OF  BUESS. 


number  of  later  productions,  where  the 
maturity  o(  his  genius  will  be  reedaj  troced, 
and  which  will  be  given  to  the  public  as  soon 
Ka  Ilia  friends  hEive  collected  and  arranged 
them,  speak  sufficiently  for  themselves ;  and 
ha^  <ney  &lleu  from  a  hand  more  dignified 
in  the  ranks  of  society  than  that  of  a  peasant, 
they  had  perhaps  bestowed  as  unuauiJ  a 
grace  there,  aa  even  in  the  humbler  shade  nf 
lUEtic  inspiration  ^m  whence  they  really 
sprang. 

"  To  the  obscnre  scene  of  Bums's  educa- 
tion, and  to  the  hihorious,  though  honourable 
station  of  rural  industry  in  which  his  parent- 

r  enrolled  him,  almost  everv  mhabitant  of 
south  of  Scotland 
Hia  only  sDrviving  brot 
now  ^dea  the  ploughshare  of  ]u3  forefathers 
In  A^shire,  at  a  farm  nem;  Maaeliline ;  and 
oiu  poet's  ddeat  son.  a  lad  of  nine  years  of 
age.  whose  early  dispoaiiiona  already  prove 
him  to  be  in  some  measnrB  the  inheritor  of 
la  well  as  indigence,  has 


a  give  testimony. 


been  destined  by  hi 

employmenta  of  (' 

"That  Burns 


cived  no  classical 
Liainted  with  the 
I  only  through  the 
a&ct  of  which  all 
mversing  with  him 


Tersation,  unless  where  the  dead  languages 
and  tbeir  writers  have  been  the  sul^ts  of 
diecuBsion.  When  I  have  pressed  him  to  tell 


bis  liappy  memory  would  have  so  soon  en- 
abled him  to  be  master  o^  be  used  only  to 
T^ly  with  a  smile,  that  he  had  alr^idy 
learnt  all  the  Latui  he  desired 


e.that 


lis  writings  Md  most  1.         -  -  ,    - 

BUits,  it  sboulil  uudonbledly  seem  that  he 
vas  most  thorongbly  versed  in ;  but  I  really 
believe  his  classic  erudition  extended  little, 
if  any,  ftrther. 

^The  penchant  Bums  had  nniformly  ac- 
knowledged Ibr  the  tbstive  pleasures  of  the 
t^le,  and  towards  the  fairer  and  solier 
objects  of  nature's  creation,  has  been  the 
rallying  point  whence  the  attacks  of  bis 
censors  have  been  uniformly  directed ;  and 
to  these,  it  must  be  confessed,  be  showed 
himself  no  stoic  His  poetical  pieces  blend 
with  altemate  happiness  of  description,  the 
ftobc  spirit  of  the  flowing  bowl,  or  melt  the 
heart  to  the  tender  and  impassioned  senti- 
meats  in  which  beauty  always  Caught  him  to 
pour  frirth  his  own.    But  who  womd  wish  to 


reprove  the  feelings  he  has  consecrated  with 
such  lively  touches  of  nature  ?  And  where 
is  tlie  rugged  moralist  who  will  persuade  m 
so  &r  to  '  chill  the  genial  current  of  the 
sou!,'  as  to  regret  that  Ovid  ever  celebrated 
his  Corinna,  or  that  Anacreon  sang  beneath 

"  I  will  not,  howeyer,  andertake  to  be  the 
apologist  of  the  irregularities  even  of  a  man 
of  genius,  though  I  believe  it  ia  as  certain 
that  genius  never  was  free  from  irregulari- 
ties, as  that  their  absolution  may,  in  great 
measure,  be  justly  claimed,  since  it  is  per- 
fectly evidrait  that  the  world  had  eontinned 
very  stationary  in  its  intellectual  sci}une- 
ments,  bad  it  never  ^ven  birth  to  any  but 
men  of  plain  sense.  Evenness  of  conduct; 
and  a  due  regard  to  the  deomims  of  the 


baud  ii 


.  1  there  I  cannot 
vhoUy  acquiesce,  that  tKey  aje  even  in. 
lompatible;  besides,  the  frulties  that  cast 
heir  slisde  over  the  splendour  of  superior 


le  altendauts  of  mere  me- 


dioerily.  It  is  only  on 
turbed  to  see  the  dust ;  the  pebble  may  bs 
soiled,  and  wo  never  regard  it.  The  eccen- 
tric intuitions  of  genius  too  often  yield  tho 
soul  to  the  wild  effervescence  of  desires, 
always  unbounded,  and  some^mes  diuolly 
dangerous  to  the  repose  of  others  as  fatal  to 
its  own.  No  wonder,  then,  if  virtue  her- 
s^  be  sometimes  lost  in  the  blaae  of 
kuidjing  animation,  or  th^  tbe  calm  moni- 
tions of  reason  are  not  invariably  found 
sulficient  to  fetter  an  ini^nation,  which 
scorns  the  narrow  limits  and  restrictions 
that  would  chujn  it  to  the  level  of  ordinary 
minds.  The  diild  of  nature,  tbe  child  of 
sensibility,  unschooled  in  the  rigid  precepts 
of  philosophy,  too  often  unable  to  control 
the  passions  which  proved  a  source  of 
frequent  errors  and  misfortunes  to  lum. 
Burns  made  his  oim  artless  apology  ia 
hnignage  more  impiKasive  tliin  all  the  argu- 
meutatory  vindications  in  tbe  world  couhj 
do,  ill  one  of  his  own  poems,  wliere  he  de. 
hueates  the  gradual  expansion  of  his  mind 
to  tlie  lessons  of  the '  tutelary  muse,'  who 
concludes  an  address  to  her  pupil,  almost 
unique  fOc  simplicity  imd  beautiful  poetry, 
with  these  lines; — 

'  I  saw  thy  pulse's  madd'nlng  play 
"Wild  send  thee  pleasure's  demous  way  1 
Misled  by  Fancy's  meteor  ray, 

But  yet  the  light  that  led  astrayt 


Hosted  by  Google 


PECtnJAlUTIES,  ETO. 


"T  have  alr^dj  tranflgrfiased  beyond  the 
bmiDds  I  bud  proposed  to  myself  on  lirst 
lommiKiJig  thia  sketch  to  paper,  which  com. 
preheuds  what  at  lea^  1  have  beeu  led  to 
deem  tbe  leading  features  of  Bnrns's  mind 
■nd  cliiuactet.    A  literacy  critique  I  do  not 

page],  I  have  been  able  to  dehDeate  an 
those  strong  traits  that  distinguished 
of  those  talents  which  raised  hiro  from  the 
plough,  vbere  he  passed  the  bleak  mt        ^ 
of  his    life,  veaving  his  rude  wreaths  of 
poesy  with  the  wild  fleld-flowers  that  sprang 

around  bis  cottage,  to  that  enviable  emj 

of  literary  fame,  where  Scotland  will 
cherish  his  memory  with  delight  and  grstil 
tude;  and  prondly  reniember  that,  heneath 
her  cold  sky,  a  genius  was  ripened,  without 
care  or  culture,  that  would  have  done  honour 
to  climes  more  &vourable  to  those  Inxuri- 
anees — that  wacmlh  of  colouring  and  fimcy 
in  which  he  so  eminently  excelled. 

"  From  several  paragrnphs  1  have  U' 
in  the  public  priuts,  erer  aince  the  ides  of 
sending  thia  sketch  to  some  one  of  them 
was  fiiriDed,  I  lind  private  animosities  he 
not  yet  snbsidcil,  and  that  mvy  haa  not  yet 
exhausted  all  her  Bhafta.  I  atUl  Crust,  hov- 
ft  fame  will  he  permanently 


life.    Ifvre  add,  that  they  also 


to  his  observation,  we  sliali  mclade  almoat 
all  tbe  subjects  of  his  muse.  His  writings 
may,  therefore,  be  regarded  as  affording  a 
great  part  of  the  data  on  which  our  account 
of  bis  personal  character  has  been  founded ; 
d  most  of  tl       ' 


:  appbcahle,  with  little 


pUed  to  the  m 

The  impreasiou  of  his  birth,  and  of  his 
original  station  in  life,  was  not  more  evident 
on  his  form  and  manners,  than  on  hii 
poetical  productions.  The  iru^deuts  which 
fbrni  the  subjects  of  his  poems,  thot^b  some 
of  them  highly  intccesting,  and  susceptible 
of  poetical  imagery,  are  incidents  in  the  litb 
of  a  peasant  who  takea  no  pains  to  disjniise 

into  shade  the  circumstances  attending  it, 
which  more  feeble  oc  mgte  artiKcial  minds 
would  have  endeavoured  to  conceal     The 

the  formation  of  his  rhymes,   which  are 
■tly  in™      


of  tl 


toBumi 


[hink  il 


will  be  fhond  he  kai  merited,  by  the  candid 
and  impartial  among  his  countrymen.  And 
where  a  recollection  of  the  imprudences  that 
snllied  his  hriglitcr  quslilicaljoiis  interpose, 
let  the  imperfection  of  all  human  ejccellence 
be  remembered  at  the  same  time,  leaving 
those  iuconsigteadee,  which  allemetely  ex- 
alted his  nature  into  the  seraph,  and  sank  it 
again  into  the  man,  to  the  tribunal  which 
atane  can  investigate  tbe  labyriatba  of  tbe 

ej  alike  in  trembling  hope  repaae, 

iM,h,;d/ 

■a  Mllgs. 


.  . .  Che  pomp  or  harmony  of  modem 
versification,  and  is,  indeeil,  to  an  English 
ear  strange  and  uncouth.    The  greater  part 

of  his  country,  a-hich  is  obscure,  it  not 
nninteiligibie,  to  Enghsbmen;  and  which, 
though  it  still  adheres  more  or  less  to  the 
speech  of  almost  every  Scotsman,  all  the 
pohie  and  the  ambittous  are  now  endeavonr- 

of  vul- 


fheirwi 


ih  from  thdr  to 
ings.    Theu!      ' 


— TheiK 


lis  father  an 


-Axnaadsle,  August  7.  1796. 

jU\er  this  account  of  the  life  and  personal 
character  of  Burns,  it  may  bs  expected  that 
■ome  inquiry  should  he  made  into  his 
literary  merits.     It  will 


uutel;  into  this 
If  fiction  he,  aa  some  sup- 
pode,  Liie  soul  of  poetry,  no  one  had  ever 
less  pretensions  to  the  name  of  poet  than 
Bums.  Though  he  has  displayed  great 
powera  of  imagiimtion,  yet  tbe  subjects  on 
which  he  has  written  are  seldom,  if  ever, 
imaginary ;  his  poems,  aa  well  as  his  letters. 


irally,  therefore,  oJls  up 
ty  in  tbe  mind.    These  aingularitiea  are 
increased  by  the  character  of  the  poet,  who 
delights  to  express  himself  with  a  simplicity 
that  approaches  to  nakedness,  and  with  an 
unmeasured  energy  that  often  alarms  deli- 
cy,  and  sometimca  offends  tjiste.    Hence, 
approachiitg  him,  the  first  impression  ia, 
perhaps,  repufiive :  there  is  an  air  of  coarse- 
ness about  him,  which  ia  dillicultly  recon- 
ciled with  oui  estahhshed  notiona  of  poeticiil 
cieellenee. 

the  reader,  however,  becomes  better 
ited  with  ihe  poet,  the  cCfecte  of  hia. 
peculiarities  lessen.      He  perceivca  in  hia. 

I  of  sentiment,  and  dehncationa  of 
nera,  which  are  highly  interesting.  The 
pry  be  deacribea  is  evidently  taken  from 
life;  the  characters  be  introduces,  nod 
ncidents  he  relates,  have  the  impteasion 


Ho,t,db,  Google 


LIFE  or  BUENa. 


tive,  the  h 


wild  and  unbridled,  is  ine^stibty  sniusiiig, 
and  b  sometimes  heightened  in  its  effects  by 
the  iniroductioQ  of  emotions  of  tenderuess, 

unites.  Nor  is  this  the  extent  of  his  power, 
{  he  eiamines  farther,  diacovera 
ia  not  conliced  to  the  descrip- 
lorous,  or  the  pathetic ;  he  is 
luunu,  as  ouasioii  offers,  to  ris«  with  ease 
into  the  terrible  and  the  aahlimeL  Every- 
where he  appears  deroid  of  artifice,  per- 
forming what  he  attempts  «ith  little  appa- 
rent eBbrt,  and  impressing  oil  the  olj^pring 
of  iis  faney  Hit  ilamp  of  his  axden  '  " 
Tlie  reader,  capable  of  forming  a  j 
mate  of  poetioal  talents,  disi'Dvers 
drcBinatauoea  milks  of  uncommon 


iUing  I 


us  nature  ana  la  ciums  to  ongiuality.  This 
last  point  w«  shall  examine  first. 

TlUt  Bums  had  not  the  advantiges  of  a 
dasaical  education,  or  of  any  degree  of  ac- 
quuntance  with  {he  Greel:  or  Koman  writers 
in  their  original  dress,  has  appeared  in  the 
history  of  his  life.  He  acquired,  indeed, 
some  Imowledge  of  the  French  language, 
hut  it  does  not  appear  that  he  was  ever  much 
conversant  in  French  literature,  nor  is  there 
any  evidence  of  hia  biiing  derived  any  of 
his  poetical  stores  from  that  aovitce.  With 
the  English  classics  be  became  well  ai> 
quunted  in  the  course  of  his  life,  and  the 
^ect  of  this  acquaintance  ate  observable  in 
his  later  productions ;  hnt  the  character  and 
Mjle  of  his  poetry  were  formed  very  early, 
am  the  model  wMch  he  followed,  in  as  far 
as  he  can  be  said  to  have  had  one,  ia  to  be 
sought  for  in  the  works  of  the  poets  who 
have  written  in  the  Scot^sh  dialeet^-in  the 
works  of  such  of  them  more  especially,  as 
Bie  (Miliar  to  the  peasantry  of  Scotland. 
Some  observaSons  on  these  may  form  a 
proper  introduction  to  a  more  particular 
"  ation  of  the  poetry  of  Bums.  The 
-'  "  e  editor  in  this  diteetion  ate 
moeed  very  recent  and  very  imperfect  It 
would  have  been  imprudent  for  bun  to  have 
entered  on  this  subject  at  all,  but  for  tha 
kludness  of  Mr.  Kamsay  of  Ochtertire, 
whose  assistance  he  ia  proud  to  acknowjedge, 
Aud  to  whom  the  reader  must  ascribe 
whatever  is  of  any  value  in  the  following 
imperfect  sketch  of  literary  couipositioBs  in 
the  Scottish  idion 


studies  of  tl! 


It  is 


.  little  CD 


>ad  which  does  not  seem  to  be  satisfactorily 
expluued,  that  In  the  thirteenth  century, 
the  language  of  tha  two  British  nations,  if 
at  all  thlferent,  diilered  only  in  dialect,  the 
Gaelic  in  the  one,  Uke  the  Welsh  tuid  Ac- 


morio  in  the  other,  b«ig  conSncd  to  the 
mountainous  districts.  The  English  under 
the  Edwards,  and  the  Scots  under  Wallace 
and  Bruce,  spoke  the  sarae  language.  Ws 
may  observe  also,  that  ui  Scotland,  the  his- 
tory of  poetry  ascends  to  a  period  nearly  as 
remote  as  lu  England  Barber,  and  Blind 
Harry,  James  tlie  First,  Dunbar,  Douglas, 
and  Lindsay,  who  hved  m  tlie  fourteenth, 
fifteenth,  and  aiileenth  centuries,  were  coet  cl 
with  the  lathees  of  poetry  m  Englajid ,  and, 
in  the  opinion  of  Mr  Warton,  not  mferioi 
to  them  ill  genius  or  in  composition  Tbuugli 
the  kngiiage  of  the  two  countries  gradually 
deviated  fiiro  each  other  dunng  this  penod, 
yet  the  difference  on  the  whole  was  not  con- 
eiderable ;  not  perhaps,  greater  than  between 
the  different  dialects  of  the  different  parts  of 
England  in  our  own  tune. 

At  tlie  death  of  James  Y.  in  15'12,  the 
language  of  Scothuid  was  in  a  fioiitishing 
conihlion,  wanting  only  writers  in  prose 
equal  to  those  m  terse.  Two  chcumalances, 
ptupitious  on  tbe  whole,  operated  to  prevent 
this.  The  first  was  the  passion  of  the  Scots 
for  composition  in  Latin,  and  tbe  secotid, 
the  accession  of  James  VJ.  to  the  Englisli 
throne.  It  inay  eadly  be  ima^hied,  that  if 
Bucliananhad  devoted  bis  admirable  talents, 
even  in  part,  to  tile  cultivation  of  hia  native 
tongue,  as  was  done  by  tiie  reviveis  of  letten 
in  Italy,  he  would  have  left  compositions  in 

men  of  genius  to  have  toUoved  his  ex- 
ample 1121],  and  given  duration  to  the  Isn- 
gu^  itself.  The  union  of  the  two  ccowoa 
in  the  person  of  James,  overthrew  all  rea- 
sonable expectation  of  this  kind.  TTuit 
monarch,  seated  on  the  Enghsh  throne, 
would  no  Iraiger  suffer  himself  to  be  ad- 
dressed in  the  rude  dialect  in  which  tlie 
Scottish  clergy  had  so  ofC^  insulted  his 
dignity.  He  encouraged  latin  or  English 
only,  both  of  which  he  prided  himself  on 
";ing  with  purity,  thoi^h  he  himself  iietet 
Id  acquire  the  EiigUsh  prouunclBiion, 
apoke  with  a  Scottish  idiom  and  intoni^ 
to  the  last.  Scotsmen  of  talents  de. 
clmed  writing  in  their  native  language,  which 
they  knew  was  not  acceptable  to  their 
learned  and  pedantic  monarch ;  and  at  a 
time  when  national  prejudice  and  enmity 
prev^led  to  a  great  degree,  they  dladainea 
to  atudy  the  niceties  of  the  English  tongue, 
though  of  «0  much  easier  acquisition  tiiaa 
dead  lai^age.  Lord  Stirling,  and  Drum- 
lond  of  Hawtbomdeu,  the  only  Scotsmen 


Ho,t,db,  Google 


LITERATETKE  OF  SCOTLAND. 


and  elegajira.  The)  were,  hoirever,  the  last 
of  tlieit  countrymea  who  deserved  to  be 
coosidned  as  poeta  id  tbat  ceatury.  Tlie 
niaaes  of  Scotland  sink  into  silence,  and  did 
not  again  raise  thear  voices  toe  a  period  of 
eighty  jeota. 

To  what  causes  are  we  to  attrihut*  this 
estrcme  depresaioo  imo»g  a  people  eompara- 
tivdy  learned,  enterprising,  and  ingenious  ? 
Shall  we  impute  it  to  the  biiaticiam  of  the 
Covenanters,  or  to  the  tyranny  of  the  house 
of  Stuart  after  their  restoration  to  the 
throne  I  Doubtless  these  causes  operated, 
bnl  they  seem  unequal  to  account  for  the 
effect  In  England,  similar  distractions  and 
oppression  took  place,  yet  poetry  flourished 
there  in  a  remarkable  degree.  Dnring  this 
period  Cowley,  and  Waller,  and  Drydeii, 
san^  and  Mdton  rused  his  strain  of  un^ia^ 
ndlelcd  grandeur.      To  the  causes  aheady 

acvountmg  for  the  torpor  of  Scottisli  literS' 
tnre — the  want  of  a  proper  vehicle  tor  men 
of  get  us  to  employ.  The  civil  oats  had 
frightened  away  the  latin  Muses,  and  no 
Btaiiilard  had  been  established  of  the  Scottish 
tongue,  which  was  dci'iafing  still  farther 
from  the  pure  English  idiom. 

The  reiii-al  of  literature  in  Scotland  may 
be  dated  from  the  establiahment  of  the 
Union,  or  rather  from  the  eiti:iction  of  the 
nhellioiiin  ITlIi.  The  nations  being  Anally 
incorporated,  it  wu  clearly  seen  that  their 
tongues  must  lie  in  the  end  incorporate  alsoj 
or  rather,  indeed,  that  the  Scottish  language 
must  degenerate  into  a  prov 


id  by  tl 


in  letters,  or  rise  to  eminence  inlbe 

united  legislature. 

Soon  after  this,  a  band  of  men  of  geniua 
appeoted,  who  studied  the  English  claasics, 
and  imitated  their  beauties,  in  the  same 
matuiet  as  they  studied  the  elassiea  of  Greece 
and  Borne.  They  had  admirable  models  of 
composition  hitely  presented  to  them  hy  the 
writers  of  the  teigii  of  Queen  Anne ;  par- 
ticularly in  the  periodical  papers  published 
by  Steele,  Addison,  and  their  associated 
friends,  which  circulated  widely  through 
Scotkmd,  and  diffused  everywhere  a  taste 
for  purity  of  style  and  sentiment,  and  for 
critica]  disquisitioiL  At  length,  the  Scottish 
writers  succeeded  in  English  composition, 
and  an  union  was  formed  of  the  literary 
talents,  as  welt  as  of  the  legislatures  of  the 

took  the  lead  While  Henry  Home  (122), 
Dr.  Wallace,  and  their  learned  associates, 
were  only  laying  in  thdr  intellectual  stores, 
and  Btudying  to  dear  themselves  of  their 


Scottislt  idioms,  Thomson,  Mallett,  and 
Hamilton  of  Bangout,  had  made  their  ap- 
pearance before  the  public,  and  been  enrolled 


the  general  stream  of  I 
Scotland  possessed  her  four  universities  be- 
fore the  accession  of  James  to  tlie  English 
tlirone.  Immediately  before  the  Union,  she 
acquired  her  parochial  schools.  These  esta- 
bliahmencs  combining  happily  together,  made 
the  elements  of  knowledge  of  easy  acquisi- 
tion, and  presented  a  direct  path  by  which 
the  ardent  student  might  be  carried  along 

civil  broib  ceased,  and  faction  and  prejudice 
gradually  diedaway.awiderlield  was  opened 
to  litei'ary  ambition,  and  the  influence  of  the 


isfor  ir 

productions  of  the  press,  became  more  and 
mare  apparent. 

It  seems,  indeed,  probable,  that  the  esta- 
blishment of  the  parochial  schools  produced 
effects  on  the  rural  muse  of  Scotland  also, 
which  have  not  hitherto  been  suspected,  and 
whieli,  though  less  splendid  in  their  nature, 

whether  we  consider  the  happineas  or  the 

There  is  some  reason  to  believe,  that  tha 
original  inhabitants  of  Che  British  i^es  pos- 
sessed a  peculiar  and  an  intei'estiiig  epeciei 
of  music,  which  being  banished  from  the 
plains  by  the  succeesire  invasions  of  the 
Sasons,  Danes,  and  Nomians,  was  preserved 
with  the  native  race,  in  the  wilds  of  Ireland 
and  in  the  mountains  of  Scothind  and  Wales. 
The  Irish,  the  Scottish,  and  the  Welsh 
musics  differ  indeed  tmm  each  other,  but  tlw 
difference  may  be  considered  as  in  dialect 
Duly,  and  probobly  produced  by  the  influence 
of  lime,  and  like  the  different  dialects  of 
their  common  langu^e.  If  this  conjecture 
be  true,  the  Scottish  music  most  be  mora 
immediately  of  a  Highland  or^in,  and  the 
Lowland  tunes,  thot^h  now  of  a  character 
somewhat  distinct,  must  have  descended 
from  the  mount^ns  in  remote  oges.  What- 
ever aedit  may  be  given  to  conjectures, 
evidently  involved  in  great  uncertauLty,  there 
can  be  no  doubt  that  the  Scottish  peasantry 
hive  been  long  in  possession  of  a  number  of 

dialect,  ond  sung  to  tlieu'  nati\e  music. 
The  subjects  of  these  compositions  were 
such  09  most  interested  the  simple  inhabi- 
tants, and  in  the  succession  of  time  varied 
probably  as  the  condition  of  society  varied. 
During  the  separation  and  the  hostility  of 


Ho,t,db,  Google 


71 


IIFE  OF  BOENS. 


the  two  nations,  these  songs  and  ballads,  is 
ta  u  our  imperfect  docDnients  enable  us  to 
Judge,  were  cliielly  warlike ;  such  as  Ibe 
Huntia  of  Cbeviot,  and  the  Battle  of  Harlar. 
After  the  union  of  the  tvo  crowns,  when  a 
certain  degree  of  peace  and  of  tianquiUilj 
took  place,  the  rural  muse  of  S(x>tlaQd 
breathed  in  softer  accents.  "Jn  the  want 
of  real  evidence  teapeeling  the  history  of 
out  BODsa,"  says  Mr,  Eamsay  of  Ochtettyre, 
"  recourse  may  he  had  to  conjecture.  One 
would  be  disposed  to  think,  that  the  most 
.  beautiEd  of  the  Scottish  tunes  were  dothed 
irith  new  words  after  tlie  union  of  the 
crowns.  The  mhabitanta  of  the  borders, 
who  had  fotmeriy  been  warriors  trom'choice, 
and  husbandmen  fVom  necessity,  dther 
quitted  the  country,  or  were  tranafbrmed 
inUi  real  shepherds,  easy  in  th«r  drcum- 
■lances,  and  satisHed  with  their  hit  Some 
sparks  of  that  spirit  of  chivalry  for  which 
they  are  celebrated  by  Froisaart,  temsined, 
■ufficient  to  inspire  deration  of  sentuneut 
and  gallantry  towards  the  fair  sei.  The 
bmiliadty  and  kindness  which  had  long 
si^isted  between  the  e™'ty  "nd  the  pea- 
luitry,  could  not  all  at  once  be  obUterated, 


rustic  be  eomeUmes  assumed,  the  truth  of 
character,  and  the  laugu^e  of  nature,  are 
preserved.  With  unaffected  simplicity  and 
teiiderneaa,  topics  are  urged  moac  likely  to 
soften  the  heart  of  a  cruel  and  coy  mistress, 
or  to  regain  a  tickle  lover.  Even  in  such  as 
are  of  a  melancholy  c»st,  a  ray  of  hope 
brei^ks  through,  and  dispels  tlie  deep  and 
settled  gloom  whir'-  -'■ — '--— •^- 


^C  of  the  Highland  fi 


kdthis 


«nded  to 


te  of  innocence,  ease,  and 
tranquillity  of  mind,  the  love  of  poetry  and 
music  woiGd  s^l  maintain  its  ground,  though 
it  would  naturally  assume  a  form  congenial 
to  the  more  peaceful  staff  of  society.  Ilie 
minstrels,  whose  metrical  tales  used  once  to 
tonse  the  borderers  like  the  trumpet's  sound, 
had  bem,  by  an  order  of  the  legislature  (in 
15791,  classed  with  rogues  and  vagabonds, 
and  attempted  to  he  suppressed.  Kuoi  and 
his  disciples  influenced  the  Scottish  parlia- 
ment, but  contended  in  vam  with  her  rural 
muse.  Amidst  our  Arcadian  vales,  probalily 
on  the  banks  of  the  Tweed,  or  some  of  its 
tributary  streams,  one  or  more  original 
geniuses  may  have  arisen,  who  were  destined 
to  give  a  new  turn  to  the  taste  of  their 
countrymen.  They  would  see  that  the 
events  and  ipursuits  which  chequer  private 
life  were  the  proper  subjects  for  popular 
poetry.  Love,  which  had  formerly  held  a 
divided  sway  with  glory  and  ambition,  be- 
came now  the  master  passion  of  the  soul. 
To  portray  in  lively  and  delicate  colours, 
though  with  a  hasty  hand,  the  hopes  and 
feats  that  agitate  the  breast  of  the  love-sick 
■wain,  orforlom  maiden,  affords  ample  scope 
to  the  rural  poet.  Love-songs  of  which 
•nbuUns  himself  would  not  have  been 
ashamed,  might  he  composed  by  an  unedn- 
cMed  rustic  with  a  slight  tincture  cf  letters; 
or  if  in  these  songa  the  diwacter  of  the 


..ie  songs  all  plaint.  . ,  ,  ._ 

livrfy  and  humorous,  and  soma 
us  coarse  and  indelicate.  They 
ever,  genuine  descriptions  of  the 
f  an  enei^tic  and  sequestered 


dious   peters   would  have   thrown 

As  those  rural  poets  sang 
not  for  gain,  their  effusions  seldom  esceeded 

treasured  up  in  the  memory  of  theit  friends 
and  iieighhcnrs.  Neither  known  to  the 
learned  nor  patronised  by  the  great,  these 
rustic  bards  hvedand  died  in  obscurity;  and 
by  a  strange  fetality,  tlidr  story,  and  even 
theu  very  names,  have  been  forgotteu.  (123) 
When  proper  models  for  pastoral  soup  were 
produced,  there  would  be  no  want  of  imita. 
tors.  To  succeed  in  this  species  of  compo- 
sition, soundness  of  understanding,  and 
sensibihty  of  heart,  were  more  requisite  than 
flights  of  imagination  or  pomp  of  numbeta. 
Great  changes  liave  cetlaiuly  taken  iJace  in 
Scottish  song-writing,  though  we  cannot 
trace  the  steps  of  this  change;  and  few  of 
the  pieces  admired  in  ^een  Mary's  time 
are  now  to  be  discovered  in  modern  collec- 
tions. It  is  possible,  though  not  probable, 
that  the  music  may  have  remained  neatly 
the  same,  though  the  words  to  the  tunes 
■    ■  lodelied"  (134) 


Thest 


highly  ii 


_ _.  , ,    .  ^     lumed,  that  the 

state  of  esse  end  tranquillity  described  by 
Mr.  Eamsay,  took  place  among  the  Scottish 
peasantry  iramediately  on  the  union  of  the 
crowns,  oi  indeed  during  tlie  greater  part  of 
the  seventeenth  century.  The  Scottish 
nation,  through  all  ita  ranks,  was  deeply 
agitated  by  the  rivil  wars,  and  the  religioua 
petsecntions  which  succeeded  each  other  in 
that  disastrous  period ;  it  was  not  till  after 
the  revolution  in  16B8,  and  the  subsequent 
establishment  of  their  beloved  form  of 
ctmtch  gavecnmen^  that  the  peasantty  oi 


Ho,t,db,  Google 


COMPAEISON  OF  SCOTTISH  POETS. 


75 


the Loaltmds  eajn;^  compsrativs  repose; 
and  it  is  since  that  period  that  a  great 
number  of  the  most  admired  Scottish  aoogs 
have  been  produced,  though  the  tunes  to 
which  they  are  sung  are  In  general  oC  much 
greater  antiquity.  It  u  not  unreasonable  to 
■nppoae  that  Che  peace  and  security  draivcd 
from  Che  Revolution  and  the  TJnion,  pro- 
duced a  ^vourable  change  on  the  rustic 
SoeCry  of  Scotland ;  and  it  can  sciircely  be 
oubCed,  CliaC  the  instiCuCion  of  pariEh 
schools  in  169G,  by  which  a  certain  d^ree 
of  instruction  VB>  diffused  tmiveraally  among 
the  peasantry,  contributed  to  this  happy 
eSbct. 

Soon  after  this  appeared  Allan  Ramsay, 
the  Scottiah  Theocritus.  He  woa  bom  on 
the  high  mountains  that  divide  Clydesdale 
and  Aunandale,  in  a  small  hamlet  by  the 
banks  of  Glengonor, .    '  -    ■    ■ 


e  Clyde.    The  n 


.  of  tl 


are  still  shovn  to  the  inquiring  traveller. 
He  was  the  son  of  a  peasant,  and  probably 
recused  such  insUuction  as  his  parish-school 
testowed,  and  the  poverty  of  his  parents  ad- 
nutted.  (125)  Bamsay  made  his  aptiearaoce 
in  Edinburgh  in  Che  beginning  of  the  present 
century,  in  Che  hiirable  character  of  an  ap- 
pr^tice  to  a  barber,  or  paruke-maker ;  he 
was  then  fourteen  or  fifteen  years  of  a^ 
By  degrees  he  aeqoired  notice  for  his  social 
disposition,  and  his  talent  for  the  oomposi- 


;  his  profession  for  tli 


of  B  book- 


ie with  many  of  the 
literuy,  as  well  as  the  gay  and  tasbktuable 
characters  of  his  time.  (126)  Having  pub- 
lished a  Ydume  of  poems  of  his  own  in 


present  to  the  world  a  collection  of  Scottish 
aongs.  "Ptom  what  sources  he  procured 
them."  says  Mr.  Ramsoy  of  Ochtertjre, 
"  whetliec  from  Iradicion  or  roanuseripi  is 


anptsCo 


nals  of  his  ancienC  poems,  he  probably  used 
etilt  greater  freedom  with  Che  songs  and 
ballads.  The  truth  cannot,  however,  be 
Imown  on  this  point,  till  manuscripts  of  the 
aongs  printed  by  him  more  anocnt  than  tha 

CisenC  cenCury.  shall  be  produced,  or  access 
obtained  to  his  own  papers,  if  they  are 

ttther.  wanted  words,  or  hud  words  that 
were  improper  or  imperfect,  he,  or  his 
friends,  adapted  verses  worthy  of  the  mclo- 
diea  they  accompanied,  worthy  indeed  of  Che 


telligibh;  to  every  rustic,  yet  justly  admired 
by  persons  of  taste,  who  regarded  them  as 
the  genuine  olfsprin^  of  the  pastoral  muse. 
In  some  respects,  Kamsay  liad  advantages 
not  possessed  by  poets  writtng  in  the  Scot- 
tish dialect  in  our  days.  Songs  in  the  dialect 
of  Cumbcrhind  or  I^casbire  could  never  be 

Eopular,  because  these  dialects  have  never 
een  spoken  by  persons  of  fashion.  But 
till  the  middle  of  the  pceaent  century,  every 
Scotsman,  from  the  peer  to  the  peasant 
spoke  a  truly  Doric  language.  Tt  is  true, 
the  English  moralisla  and  poets  were  by 
this  time  read  by  every  person  of  condition, 
and  considered  as  the  standards  for  pohla 
composition.  But  as  national  prejudices 
were  still  strong.  Che  busy,  the  learned,  the 
gay,  and  the  tiir,  continued  to  speak  their 
native  direct,  and  that  widi  an  elegance 
and  poignancy,  of  which  Scotsmen  cu  Che 
present  day  can  have  no  just  notion.  I  am 
old  enough  Co  have  conversed  with  Mr. 
Spittal,  of  l^uchat,  a  scholar  and  a  man  of 
foshion,  who  survived  all  the  members  ot 
the  Union  Parbament,  in  which  he  had  a 


Had  « 


IS  of 


the  two  sbter-kingdoms  wo 
differed  like  the  Castilian  and  Portuguese ; 
but  each  would  have  had  its  own  classics, 
not  in  a  single  branch,  buC  in  Che  whole 
drcle  of  literature. 

"  Ram^y  associated  with  the  men  of  wit 
and  fashion  of  bis  day,  and  several  of  them 

Persons  too  idle  or  too  dissipated  to  think  ot 
composiciona  that  required  much  eiertion, 
succeeded  very  happily  in  making  tender 
sonnets  to  favourite  tunes  in  compliment  to 
theu  mistresses,  and,  transforming  them- 
selves into  impassioned  shepherds,  caught 
the  language  of  Che  oharBCters  they  assumed. 
ITiua,  about  the  year  1731,  Robert  Crawford 

Tweed  Side  (127),  which  has  been  so  much 
admired.  In  1743,  Sir  Gtilbert  Elliot,  tha 
Urst  of  our  lawyers  who  both  spoke  aud 
wrote  English  elegantly,  composed,  in  the 
character  of  a  love-sick  swain,  a  beautiful 
song,  beginning, '  My  sheep  I  n^lected,  T 
lost  my  sheep-hook,"  on  the  m«™ge  of 
his  mistress.  Miss  Forbes,  with  Ronald 
Crawford.  And  abont  twelve  years  after- 
wards, Che  sister  of  Sir  Gilbert  wrote  the 
ancient  words  to  the  tune  of  the  Flowers  of 
Che  Forcat  (123),  and  supposed  to  allude  to 


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IIFE  OP  BtlESS. 


the  battle  of  Tlowden.  In  spile  of  tbe 
double  rhyme,  it  is  a  sweet,  an^,  tbougl 
in  some  parts  all^oricd,  a  natural  eKpres- 


seen  the  smiling  of  fortune  beguiling,'  were 

woman  of  great  wit,  who  outlived  all  the 
first  group  of  literati  of  tbe  present  century, 
all  of  whom  were  very  fond  of  her,  (129)  I 
was  deUgbted  with  her  company,  tbough, 
when  I  saw  lier,  »he  was  Tety  tJA  Much 
did  sbe  know  that  is  now  lost." 

In  addiUon  to  these  instances  of  Scottisli 
Bongs  produced  in  tbe  earlier  part  of  tbe 
present  century,  may  b«  mentioned  the 
ballad  of  Hardiknut^  by  Lady  Wardlaw; 
the  hiHad  of  William  and  Mirgaret ;  and 
tbe  song  entitled  the  Birks  of  Endermay, 
by  Mallatt ;  the  love-song,  beeinning.  "  For 
erec  fortune,  wilt  thou  prove,  produced  by 
the  youthful  muse  of  Thomson ;  and  the 
esqniaite  pathetic  ballad,  tbe  Braes  of 
Yarrow,  by  Hiunilton  of  Bangour.  On  the 
wvival  of  letters  in  Scotland,  subsequent  to 

have  premled  for  the  national  songs  and 
mnaic  "  for  many  years,"  says  Mr.  Kam- 
«oy,  "the  singing  of  songs  was  the  great 
dehght  of  the  higher  and  middle  order  of 
the  people,  as  well  as  of  the  peasantry ; 
and  though  a  taste  for  Itahau  mnaic  has 

very  prevalent.  Between  forty  and  fifty 
years  ago,  tbe  common  people  were  not  only 
exceedingly  fond  of  songs  and  ballads,  but 
of  metrieal  history.  Often  have  I,  in  my 
cheerful  mom  of  youth,  listened  to  them 
with  delight,  when  reading  or  reciting  tbe 
eiploits  i5  Wallace  and  Bmee  against  the 

Blind  Harry  thsr  bi'Ae,  be  being  their  great 
tarourite  nest  to  the  Scriptures.  When, 
therefore,  one  in  the  vale  of  life  felt  tbe  first 
emotions  of  genius,  he  wanted  not  models 
mi  gmtris.  But  though  the  seeds  of 
poetry  were  scattered  with  a  plentiful  band 
among  the  Scottish  peasantry,  the  product 
was  probably  like  that  of  peaia  and  apples — 
of  a  thousand  that  spnng  up,  nine  hundred 
and  fifty  are  so  bad  as  to  set  the  teeth  ou 
edge ;  fijrty-five  or  more  are  passable  and 
useful ;  and  the  rest  of  an  exquisite  flavour. 
Allan  Barasay  and  Burns  are  wildings  of 
this  last  deactiption.  I^ey  had  tbe  ex- 
ample of  the  elder  Scottish  poets;  they  were 
aid  of  tbe  ■     '    "     ''  ' 


still  of  more  ii 


that  Allan  Bamaay  may 

a  great  measure  tbe  reviver  of  the  rural 

poetry  of  his  country.    His  collection  of 

The  Eve^teen,  his  cdlection  of  Scottish 
songs,  and  his  own  poems,  the  principal  of 
Vfhich  is  the  Gentle  Shepherd,  have  been 
universally  read  among  the  peasantry  of  his 
country,  and  have  in  some  degree  superseded 
the  adventures  of  Bruce  and  Wallace,  aa 
recorded  by  Barbour  and  Bhnd  Harry. 
Burns  was  well  acquainted  with  all  these. 
He   had  also   before   him  the   poems  of 

have  been  produced  in  our  own  times,  and 
of  which  it  will  be  aecessaty  to  give  a  short 


in  Scotland  implies  no  very  high  rank  in 
society.  From  a  well-written  and  appa- 
rently authentic  account  of  bis  life  (130). 
ws  learn  that  he  spent  six  years  at  the 
seboola  of  Edinbui^b  and  Dundee,  and 
several  years  at  the  universities  of  Edyt- 
bui^h  and  St.  Andrews.  It  appears  tltat 
he  was  at  one  time  destined  for  the  Scottiih 
church ;  but,  as  he  advanced  towards  man- 
hood, he  renounced  that  inteniiou,  sad 
at  Edinburgh  entered  the  olBce  of  a  writ™ 
to  tbe  signet — a  title  which  designates  a 
aepurate  end  higher  order  of  Scotiish  at- 
toruies.  Ferguason  had  sensibility  of  inind, 
a  warm  and  generous  heart,  and  talents 
for  society  of  tbe  most  attractive  kiiul. 
To  such  a  man  no  situation  could  be 
more  dangerous  than  that  iu  which  he  was 
pkced.  The  eiccsses  into  which  he  was  led 
impmred  his  feeble  constitution,  and  he  sank 
under  them  in  tbe  month  of  Oc    b  4 

in  his  twenty-third  or  t»eniy-f  ur  h  ar 
Burns  was  not  acquainted  with  h  poem 
of  this  youthfot  genius  when  h  hiraself 
begac.  to  write  poetry ;  and  wl  en  li  firs 
saw  them,  be  had  renoumsd  h  n  se 
But  while  be  resided  ui  the  town  in 

meeting  with  Fergusson's  Scottis  P  m  ha 
informs  na  that  he  "strung  bis  lyre  wi  h 
emnlatiag  vigour."  Touched  by  the  sympa 
thy  ori^nating  in  kindred  genius,  and  in  the 
forebodings  of  Hmilar  fortune.  Burns  re. 
gorded  Fergusson  with  a  partial  and  an 
aiiictionate  admiration.  Over  his  grave  he 
erected  a  monument,  as  has  already  been 
mentioned ;  and  his  poems  be  las,  in  several 
instances,  made  the  subjects  of  his  imitation. 
From  this  account  of  the  Seottiah  iiulths 
known  to  Bnrns,  tluiao  who  arc  aainainicd 


Ho,t,db,  Google 


SCOXnSH  LITEEATUEE. 


t  U3  commit  him  witb 
T  each  of  these  pointa 


with  them  win  aee  that  they 

honiorous  or  patlietir,  aod  ua 

otlicr  of  these  deicriptioiis  mosi 

poeiDa  nil]  dass.    Let  us  compAte  him  with 

his  predtceaaors  nil 

of  vieiv,  and  close  our  i 

few  general  obaervatioDa, 

It  has  frequentl;  been  obaerved,  that 
Scotland  has  produced,  comparatively  speak- 
ing, few  wcitera  who  haie  excelled  in  humour. 


lied  ro  those  who  have  continued  to  naide 


easy  esplanatioii.  The  Scottish  poets  who 
haie  written  in  the  dialect  of  Scotland,  have 
hecQ  at  all  times  remarkable  tor  dwcUiiig  on 
BubjeetB  of  hmnour,  in  which,  indeed,  many 
of  them  have  eiceUed.  It  wovdd  he  eisy  to 
show,  that  the  dialect  of  Scotland  having 
become  provindal,  ia  now  scarcely  quired  to 
the  more  eievoled  kinds  of  poetry.  If  we 
may  helieie  that  the  poem  of  Chriatis  Kirk 
of  the  Qrene  waa  written  hy  JanieB  I.  of 
Scotland  (131),  this  accomplished  monarch, 
who  had  received  an  Kuglish  education 
under  t)ie  direction  of  Henry  IV.,  and  who 
bore  arms  under  his  gallant  anceesaor,  gave 
the  model  on  which  the  greater  pari  of  the 
humorous  prodnctioua  of  the  rustic  muse  of 
Scotland  has  been  formed.  Christia  Kirk 
of    the  Qrene  was  repiinted  by   Kamsay 

and  two  cantos  w^re  added  by  him,  iu  which 
he  attempts  to  eairy  on  the  desifrn.  Hence 
the  poem  of  Knig  James  is  usually  printed 
in  Ramsay's  works.  The  royal  bard  describes, 
in  the  first  canto,  a  rustic  dance,  and  after- 
warda  a  conten^n  in  archery,  ending  in  an 
aStS!.  Bamaay  relates  the  restoration  of 
concord,  and  the  renewal  of  the  ratal  sporla, 
with  the  hamours  of  a  eonntry  wedding- 
Though  each  al  the  poets  describes  the 
"  ■  ■     ■eapective  ag^  ■      ■ 


whole ! 


anificie 


a  striking  proof  of  the  identity  of 
character  in  the  Scottish  peasantry  at  the 
two  periods,  distant  from  each  other  three 
hundred  years.  It  ia  tm  honourable  dis- 
tinction to  this  body  of  men.  that  their 

Bsbed,  have  iieen  found  to  be  susceptthle  of 


The  two  edditional  cant«sto  Chriatia  Kuk 
of  the  Grene,  written  by  Hamsay.  though 
objectionable  in  point  of  debcacy,  ate  among 
the  happiest  of  hia  produotiona.  Hia  chief 
excellence,  indeed,  lay  in  the  description  ot 
rural  characters,  incidents,  and  scenery ;  for 
he  did  not  pcasess  any  very  high  powers 
either  of  imagination  or  of  understanding. 
He  was  well  acquainted  with  the  peasantry 
of  Scotland,  their  lives  and  opinions.  The 
subject  was  in  a  great  meaaure  new;  his 
talents  were  equal  to  the  subject ;  and  he 
has  shown  that  it  may  be  happily  adapMd  to 
paatoral  poetry,    tn  his  Gentle  Shepherd^ 

the  descriptive  parts  ore  in  the  genuine  style 
of  beautiful  Mmplicity,  tlie  pasaiona  and 
affections  of  rural  life  are  finely  pourtrayed, 
and  the  heart  is  plcaahigly  interested  in  the 
happiness  that  ia  bestowed  on  innocence  and 
virtue.  Throughout  the  whole  there  is  an 
air  of  reality  which  the  most  careleaa  reader 


songs,  and  in  liis  rural  tales,  Bamsay  appears 
to  ieaa  advautage  indeed,  but  atili  with  con- 
aideruble  attraction.  1\e  atory  of  the  Monk 
and  the  Miller's  Wife,  though  somewhat 
licentious,  may  rank  with  the  happiest  mo- 
ductiona  of  Prior,  or  La  Fontahie,  But  when 
he  attempts  aubjecta  from  higher  life,  and 
aims  at  pure  English  composition,  he  ii 
feeble  and  uniiiteteating,  and  seldom  over 
reaches  mediocrity.  Nrather  are  his  familial 
epistles  and  elegies  in  the  Scottish  dialect 
entitled  to  much  approbation.  Though 
Ferguason  had  higher  powers  of  imagination 
tlum  Bamaay,  hia  genius  was  not  of  the 
highest  order;  nor  did  his  learning,  which 
wns  considerable,  improve  hia  genius.  Uia 
poems  written  in  pure  English,  in  which  he 
often  follows  classical  moiiela,  though  supe- 
rior to  the  English  poems  of  Ramsay,  seldom 
jise  alMve  nudiocrity;  but  in  those  com- 
id  in  the  Scottish  dialect  he  is  often  very 
VBsfiil.  He  waa  in  general,  howeva, 
happy  than  Bamsay  m  the  subjects  of 
muse.  As  he  ai^enl  the  greater  part  of 
hia  Ufe  in  Edinburgh,  and  wrote  for  hii 


thesii 


latton  of  modem  Europe  which 
n  original  rural  poetry,  should 
ed  the  model,  followed  hy  theii 


i  intervab  of  bi 
diaaipation,  his  Scottish  poema  are  chiefly 
founded  on  the  inddenta  of  a  town  life, 
which,  though  they  are  susceptible  of  humour, 
do  not  admit  of  those  delineations  of  scenery 
and  manners,  which  vivily  the  rural  poetry 
of  Bamsay,  and  which  so  agreeably  amuse 
the  fancy  and  interest  the  heart,  'i'he 
town-eclcgues  of  Fergnsaon,  if  we  may  so 


Ho,t,db,  Google 


78 


UFE  OF  BOKKS. 


denominate  t)i«n,  are,  hcnrever.  ttiithful  to 
Dature,  and  often  diatin^ished  by  a  very 
happy  vein  of  humour.  Hia  poems  eotilled 
The  l)afC  Uaya,  The  King's  Siith-day  in 
E^bnrgh,  Leich  Bnceg,  and  the  HaDow 
F«ir,  will  justify  ihis  chatactep.  In  these, 
UTticularly  in  the  last,  he  imitated  ChriatLs 
Shk  of  the  Grens,  m  Rsmsoy  had  done 
before  him.    His  Address  to  tlie  IVon  Kirk 


Belli: 


n  exqui! 


!of  hinr 


aa  has  BCMcdy  excelled, 
the  genius  of  Feigusson,  it  ought  to  he 
recollected,  that  hia  poems  are  the  iareless 
flOiisioas  of  an  irreg^ar  thongh  amiable 
jMnug  man,  nho  wrote  fbi  the  peiiodind 
papers  of  the  day,  and  who  died  in  early 
youth.  Had  his  life  been  prolonged  undep 
happier  (^rcumstanccs  of  fortune,  he  nould 
probably  have  risen  to  modi  higher  repuLa- 
tion.  He  mi^ht  have  eicelled  in  rural  poetry; 
(br  thoi^h  his  profbssed  paatorals,  on  the 
established  Sicilian  model,  are  sttle  and 
nninterealing,  The  Farmer'a  Ingle  (132), 
vhich  may  be  considered  u  a  Scottish  pas- 
toral, 19  the  happiest  of  all  hia  productions, 
■nd  certainly  was  the  prototype  of  the  Cot- 
tefa  Saturday  Night.  Ferguason.  and  more 
espenally  iBiuris,  have  showu  that  the  cha- 
racter and  manners  of  the  peasantiy  of 
Scotland  of  tlie  present  timea,  are  ss  well 
adapted  to  poetry  aa  in  Che  days  of  Eamsay, 
or  of  the  author  of  Christia  Kirk  of  the 

The  humour  of  Burns  is  of  a  licher  vein 
than  that  of  Bamsav  or  Tcrgusson,  both  of 
wh  m    aa  self         rm  d 

req  m  ut  »    ei  *i      a 


chooses  to  execute  m  the  form  of  a  dialogue 
between  two  dogs.  He  introduces  this 
dialogue  by  an  account  of  the  persons  and 

he  has  named  Cxsar,  is  a  d<%  at  con- 


High-bred  though  be  is,  he  is,  however,  full 


Never  were  (wb  dojj  so  exquisitely  dc 
neated.  Their  gambols  befor" -■----■- '- 
to  moralise  are  described  ni 
gree  of  happiness ;  uid  through  the  whole 
ilialcgTie,  the  character,  aa  weU  as  the  dif- 
ferent condition  of  the  two  speakers,  is  kept 
in  view.  Tlie  speech  of  Luath,  in  which  he 
enumerates  the  comforts  of  the  poor,  givea 
the  following  account  of  their  merriment  oo 
the  first  day  of  the  year ; — 


i'  rwbt  guid  will ; 
in  thro' the  h  ' 


Theyoi.  „ _ 

iSat  IMS"!/  Sb'  *'»■*''  "'>'  lSn»," 

Of  all  the  animala  who  have  moralised  on 

dty  seems  best  entitled  to  this  privilege,  as 
well  from  hia  superior  sagacity  as  from  hia 

asaoci'ate  of  man.  Tlie  dogs  of  Bums,  ex- 
cepting in  theu:  talent  for  moralising,  are 
downright  dogs ;  and  not  bke  the  horses  of 
SKift,  or  the  Hmd  «id  Panther  of  Brjden. 
nien  in  the  sb^e  of  brutea.  It  ia  thia  dr- 
cnmstance  that  heightens  the  humour  of  the 
diak^e.  The  "  twa  does"  are  constantly 
kept  iKfore  our  eyes,  and  the  contrast  be- 
tween their  fbrm  and  character  as  Ao^,  and 
the  si^adty  of  theur  conversation,  heightens 
the  humoiLt,  and  deepens  the  impression  of 
the  poet's  aatice.  Though  in  thia  poem  the 
chief  excellence  may  he  considered  aa  hit- 
yet  great  talenta  are  diaplayod  in  its 


scription,  and  the  deepest  inaijiht  int 
human  heart.  (133)  It  is  aeldom,  hou 
tliat  the  hnmour  of  Bums  appears  i 


the 


1 0,  Google 


SCOTTISH  XJTERATUHE. 


thB  higher  poiren  of  imagination.  In  auoh 
instances,  lie  l^Tea  the  society  of  Bamsay 
and  of  Fergusson,  wxd  issoraales  himself 
with  the  masters  of  EnglLah  poetry,  wlioge 
Impose  be  frequently  assumes. 

Of  the  union  of  tenderness  and  humoor, 
raamplea  miy  be  found  in  The  Death  and 
Dying  Words  of  poor  Mailie,  in  The  Auld 
rirmer's  New-Yrar's  Momiag  Salutation 
to  his  Mare  MsEgie,  *iid  in  many  of  his 
oClieT  poems.  The  praise  of  whi^y  is  a 
&T0iiriee  subject  with  Burns.  To  this  he 
dedicates  his  poem  of  Scotch  Drink.  Afiec 
mraitioning  its  cheering  influence  in  a  ra- 


gs and  powBr  of  fancy,  its 


On  another  oceaaion  (134),  choDsinj  b 
cx^  whifky  above  wine,  he  introduces  ] 
eomprison  between  Che  ntuires  of  mor 
(renial  dimes,  to  whom  tlie  vine  furuiahe 
their  beverage,  and  his  own  countrymen  whi 
drink  the  spirit  of  malt.    The  description  o 

"But  brlnii  a  Scotsman  frae  his  hill. 
Clap  in  hi«  cheek  a  Hucbland  vill  (133), 
Bay  snob  in  toynl  Gcoreo's  will, 


ation    of   the  poet,      Ue    goes    i 
cauid,  faint-hearted  doubCinf  s  tea 


the  Address  to  the  Deil,  one  of  the  hap]uest 
of  his  productions.  After  reproaching  thia 
terrible  being  with  oil  bis  "doings"  and 
misdeeds,  in  the  course  of  which  he  pnssea 
through  a  series  of  Scottish  superstitions, 

poetry,  he  conciudea  tliis  addiress,  delivered 
in  a  tone  of  great  fEuniharity,  not  altogether 
unmixed  with  apprehension,  in  the  folloaing 

"Snt,  bre-ye-ireU.  auld  Miokle-tienl 
Oil  wsfl  jDu  tsk  a  thoujtbt  and  men'  I 
Ye  lublins  milht— I  dinnu  ken- 


Humour  and  tenderness  are  here  so  happily 
intermiiced,  that  it  is  impossible  to  say  wbii^ 

Fergusson  wrote  a  dialogue  between  the 
Causeway  and  the  Piainstones  (136)  of 
Edinburgh.  This  probably  suf^ested  to 
Bnma  his  dialogue  between  the  Old  and 
the  New  Bridge  over  the  ri^er  Ayr.  (137) 
The  nature  of  such  subjects  rH|nires  that 
they  shsil  be  treated  humorously,  and  Feiv 
gusson  has  attempted  nothing  beyond  this. 
Though  the  Causeway  and  the  Plainstones 
talk  togetlier,  no  attempt  is  made  to  po-- 
souify  the  speaketa,  A  "cadie"  (138)  heard 
the  conversation,  and  reported  it   to  the 


If  Ayr, 

and  wandered  out  alone  in  the  darkness  and 
Bohtude  of  a  winter-night,  to  the  moudl  of 
the  river,  where  the  stillness  was  interrupted 


Death  c™.^-wl'  fearless  eye  he  sees  hhn. 

the  tide.    It  was  a^er  midnight.    The  dun- 

Wl'  blnidy  hand  a  wolcomo  gies  him ; 

gcon-dock  (1391  had  struct  two,  and  the 

sound  had  been  repeated  by  Wallace  Tower. 

(110)      All  else  was  husked.     The  mooa 

Again,  however,  he  sinks  into  humour, 

shone  brightly,  and 

and  concludes  the  poem  with  the  following 

"  The  chilly  frost,  beneath  the  silver  beam. 

most  laughable  but  most  iitevereut  apos- 

Crept   gentlj'  erusliag,   o'er  tho  glittering 

trephe:— 

"  Bsotland,  my  auld,  respected  mithsr  1 
Tho'  whjlCB  f e  molstlfy  your  leather, 

In  this  situation  the  listening  hard  hears  the 
"elanguig  eugh"  of  wings  moving  through 
tho  ait,  aid^eedily  he  ^rceives  two  beiSs 
reared,  the  one  on  the  Old,  the  otiier  on  the 

Freedma  and  jnftjsieu  irane  thegithet— 

New  Bridge,  whose  form  and  atrire  he  de- 

Tak alt  your  dram  1" 

scribes,  and  whose  conversation  with  each 

Of  tiiis  union  of  Immonr  with  the  higher 

otlier  he  rehearses.      These  genii  enter  into 

powers  of  ims^nation,  instances  may  be 
found  in  the  poem  entitled  Death  and  Dr. 

a  comparison  of  the  respective  edifices  oyer 

which  they  preside,  and  afterwards,   as  is 

BDmbook,  and  in  ahuosC  every  stauu  of 

usual  between  the  old  and  young,  compara 

Ho,t,db,  Google 


moflern  chflrocters  and 
of  pBSC  tiines.  They  differ,  as  ma;  be  en 
peMcd,  find  taunt  and  scold  ac'a  other  ii 
broad  Scotch.  Thia  convei^ation,  whidi  i 
certainly  hiimoiona,  may  be  considered  a 
(ha  proper  bueiness  of  the  poem.  As  tb 
debate  tuns  high,  and  threatens  «rioua  con 
sequence?,  all  at  once  it  is  iuterrupted  by  i 
new  scene  of  Bondera : — 


LIFE   OF   BURNS, 
itith  th( 


ley  feat 
ftlano'. 


A  fiiiry  train  appear'a  In  order  btfj 
Adonn  the    guttering  stream  I 

They  foolL'il  o'er  the  irafry  glns!  e 
The  infcnt  ice  scarce  bene  beneatli 
■ft'hiie  urlB  of  Minstrelsy  among  tli 
And  eoul-cnohling  Bards  hendc  dil 

"  The  Gen  In*  of  the  Stream  in  fix>nt  appears— 

His  he 


His  hoary  head' 


h  garter-langle  hounc 
Nest  follow  »  number  of  other  allegorical 
bangs,  amoni;  whom  are  the  four  se 
Bntal  Joy,  Plenty,  Hospitably,  and 

"  Benerolcnce,  ulth  mild  beniRnaot  air, 
A  f^ale  foi-m,  eame  from  the  Cnw'rB  of  I 
Leaminit  andirealthln  e^nolmmXEires 


cAktIouI 


re  did  brquenth 


Toru,.-_ 
The  broki 

At  efaht  of  whom  our  Sprites  foi^t  thetr 
kjiicrangwi'ith." 

^is  poem,  irregnlar  ond  imperf^  as  it 
i),  displays  various  and  poweif  uf  talents,  and 
may  serve  to  illustrate  the  Benius  of  Bums. 
In  particular,  it  affords  a  striking  instance  of 
his  being  canied  beyond  his  ori^aal  purpose 
by  the  powers  0/  imagination. 

In  Fei^sjon's  poem,  the  Mainatones  and 
Causeway  contrast  the  characters  of  the 
dilifetent  persons  who  waited  upon  them. 
BnniB  probably  coneeived,  thatbyadi»l<vn'B 
between  the  Old  and  New  Bridge,  h 


might 

modem  manners  in  the  town  of  Ayr. 
Such  a  dialogue  could  only  be  supposed  to 
pass  iu  the  stillness  of  night ;  and  this  led 
ont  poet  into  a  description  ot  a  midnight 
scene,  which  eiate^  in  a  h%h  decree  the 
powers  ot  his  ima^ation.  During  the 
whole  dialogue  the  scenery  is  present  to  his 
fency,  and  at  length  it  suggests  to  Uva  a 
flury  dance  of  ai-ritd  beings,  undec  the  beams 
of  the  moon,  by  which  the  wrath  of  the 
Genii  of  the  Brigs  of  Ayr  is  appeased. 

Ineongruans  as  the  diScreot  parts  of  this 
poem  are,  it  is  not  an  incongruity  tliat  dis- 


pleases ;  and  we  have  only  to  regret  that  (be 
gioet  did  not  bestow  a  htde  pains  in  making 
the  figures  more  correct,  and  in  smoothing 
the  TCTsification, 

The  epistles  of  Bums,  in  which  may  he 
irududed  his  Dedication  to  O.  H.,  Esq.,  dia. 
cover,  hte  bis  other  writings,  the  powers  of 
a  Bupenor  understanding.  They  display 
deep  insight  into  human  natare,  a  gay  and 
happy  strain  of  reflection,  great  independ- 
ence of  sentiment  and  generosity  of  heart 
It  is  to  he  regretted,  that,  in  his  Holy  Pan', 
and  m  some  of  his  other  poems,  his  humoui 
degenerates  into  personal  satne,  and  that  it 
is  not  sufficiently  guarded  in  other  reapecta. 
The  HaUoween  of  Burns  is  free  from  every 
objection  of  this  sort.  It  is  mteresthig,  not 
mei^y  from  its  humorous  description  of 
manners,  hut  as  it  Tcoords  the  siiells  and 
charms  used  on  the  celebration  of  a  festival, 
now  even  in  Scotland,  falling  into  ne,'lect, 
but  which  was  once  observed  over  the  ^tentct 
part  of  Britain  and  Ireland  (141)  These 
eharma  are  aupposed  to  afford  an  maight 
into  fuCnrity,  especially  on  the  subject  ot 
iage,  the  tn 


life.    In  the  Hall 
foni 


a  fern 


n  pec- 


1)3  to  give  a  description 
wur  forth  not  merely 


not  10  be  resisted — 
"Whyleaowreallnn 

Whylcs  round  a  roci 
Wliylesinawteli 

■l\^'"iKed™ 

■Whylcs  cooklt  luider 

Below  the  spreadh 

tnseer 


the  bnmle  playa, 
nitwimpl't; 

le  nightly  raya, 

aeaUi  the  brae% 
g  hazel, 
that  Dlgbt." 


which  til 


>f  the  finest 


poetry  altotd,  (142)  Thoughot  a  very  different 
iture,  it  may  be  eomps  ed.  in  point  of  ei. 

lei  sWDollen  by  the  rains  of  winter,  burst- 
ing through  the  strwghts  that  confine  its 
'orrent,  "boihug,  wheeUng,  (oammg,  and 
hundering  along." 
In  pastoral,  or,  to  speak  more  correctly, 

.■icelled  equally  aa  in  that  of  a  humorous 
kind ;  and,  using  leas  of  the  Scottish  diolecc 


Ho,t,db,  Google 


SENSIBILITY  OF  BtlENS. 


81 


in  Us  Ecriom  poems,  he  becomes 
nerally  intelligible.  It  is  difflcult  i 
vhetlier  the  Addreaa  to  t  Mouse,  n1 
was  tntued  up  witi  the  plough,  should  be 

it  may,  Che  poem  a  ooe  of  the  happiest  uid 
moat  finished  of  his  produotioiis.  If  we 
nnile  it  the  "bickering  brattle"  of  this  little 
flying  enhoHl,  it  is  a  smile  of  tenderness 
mi  pity.  The  descriptive  part  is  admirable ; 
the  racial  reflectiona  beautiful.  Mid  arising 
directly  out  of  the  occasion ;  and  in  the  con- 
dnaion  there  is  a  deep  mebm^ly,  a  sen- 
timent of  doubt  and  diead,  that  rises  to 
the  sublime.  The  address  to  a  Mountain 
Daisy,  turned  down  with  the  plough,  is  a 
poem  of  the  same  nature,  though  somewhat 
inferior  in  point  of  originality,  as  veil  as  in 
the  interest  prodnecd.    ""        .      .  - 


j  which  he  was  attsched  by  sentiments  of 
I  affection,  gratitude,  or  patriotism  lie 
second  diian,  or  ranto,  of  this  poem,  in 
which  Coile  desraibea  het  own  nature  and 
occupations,  particularly  her  supcrmten- 
denes  of  liia  iniimt  genius,  sad  in  which  she 
reconciles  hun  to  the  character  of  a  l>ard,  ii 
an  elevated  and  solemn  strain  0/  poetay. 


,  and  El 


liiigly  90 


Tid  as  these,  so  fin 

and  imagery,  is  the  surest  proof,  as  well  as 
the  most  brilliant  triumph,  of  original  ge. 


poem  of  Ereat  and  various  excellence, 
openins,  in  which  the  poet  desctibea  his  own 

ried  from  the  labours  of  the  day,  to  moralise 
on  hie  conduct  and  prospects,  is  truly 
interesting.  The  chamber,  if  we  may  so 
tfflm  it,  in  which  he  aits  down  to  muse,  ia 
an  exquisite  painting : 
"  There,  lanely,  by  the  tngle  check 
I  est  mid  ey'd  the  ejiewuiK  reek. 


To  reeonnle  to  01 
aofan         "" 


'  imagination  the  ei 


otthis 

kind,  nquired  the  powers  of  Sums — he 
howei'H  Buceeeda.  Coila  enters,  md  her 
countenance,  attitude^  and  dress,  unlike 
those  of  other  spiritual  beings,  are  dis^ctly 
poiutrayed.  To  the  painting  on  her  mantle, 
on  whidi  is  depicted  the  most  striking 
Bceiiery,  as  well  as  the  most  distinguished 
chuacCeca,  of  his  native  countrry,  some  ex- 
ceptions may  be  made.  The  mantle  of  Coila, 
like  tbe  cup  of  Thytsis,  and  the  shield  of 
Achilles,  ia  too  ranch  crowded  with  figures, 
and  some  of  the  objects  represented  upon 
it  are  scarcely  admissible,  according  to  tbe 
principles  of  design.  The  generous  tern- 
perameut  of  Burns  led  him  into  these 
exuberances.  In  his  second  edition  he  cu- 
la^d  tlie  number  of  figures  originally 
introduced,  that  he  might  inchide  injects  to 


tions  of  the  English  muse.  The  condnding 
stanza,  compared  with  that  already  quotei^ 
will  show  to  what  a  height  Sums  rises  io 
this  poem,  from  the  point  at  which  be  set 

"Aid  iBfar  lioK  (*j)— she  solsnin  said. 
And  bound  the  hoity  round  my  head ; 
The  polished  leaves,  and  berries  red. 

Did  rustling  pldy : 
And,  like  a  passing  thought,  she  fled 

In  various  poems.  Bums  has  exhibited 
the  picture  of  a  mind  under  the  deep  im- 
pressions of  real  sorrow.  The  lament,  the 
Ode  to  Ruin,  Despondency,  and  Winter,  ft 
Dirge,  are  of  this  character.  In  the  first  cHt 
these  poems,  the  Sth  stanza,  which  describes, 
a  sleepless  night  from  angulah  of  mind,  is. 
particularly  striking.  Burns  often  indulgedi 
m  those  inclancholy  views  of  the  nature  and 
condition  of  man,  which  are  so  coi^eniat 
to  the  temperament  of   sensibility,      ThB 

affords  an  instance  of  this  kin^  and  the 
Winter  Night  is  of  the  same  dcaeoption. 
The  laat  is  highly  characteristic,  both  of  the 
temper  of  mind,  and  of  the  condition  ol 
Surua,  It  begina  with  a  descriptioii  of  ■ 
dreadful  storm  on  a  night  in  winter.  Tlie 
poet  represents  himself  as  lying  in  bed,  and 
Ustemng  to  its  howluig.  fii  this  situation 
he  naturally  turns  his  thoi^hts  to  the  aarit 
(143)  catUe,  and  tilly  (144)  sheep,  eiposed 


lowing  manner  :— 
"  Ilk  happing  bird- wee,  helpless  thhwl 
That,  in  the  merry  monlha  0' spring, 
DeUghted  ma  to  hear  thee  sing, 

Whaie  will  thou  cnw'r  Ihv  cbitlcring  wiMr, 
And  dose  thy  eet" 
Other  reflections  of  the  same  nature 
occur  to  hi9  muidi  and  as  the  midnight 
moon  "muSled  with  clouds"  casts  her 
dreary  light  on  his  window,  thoughts  of  a 
darker  and  more  melancholy  nature  crowd 


ce  pouring  through  the  glooj 


Ho,t,db,  Google 


LIFE  OF  BUIiXS. 


1    trttin     of    teHeotbi 


with  that  of  man  to  his  brniliet  i 

finds  the  fatmer  light  iu  the  balauc* 

'*  See  stern  Oppreflsion'e  iron  grip, 

Benaini,  like  hloodiinundB  from  the  slip, 

Woe,  want,  and  murder,  o'er  Uie  land." 
He    pursues    this    tr 
(hiough   H  variety   of  | 

animated  apostrophe  :- 


Among  the  mtjobs  poems  of  Bums,  The 
Cotter^s  Saturday  Night  ia  perhaps  entitled 
to  the  first  rank.  The  Farmer's  Ingte  of 
Fergusson  evidently  suggested  the  plan  of 
this  poem,  as  has  been  already  meolUiiied ; 

entirely  to  his  ovn  powers  for  the  eiecation. 
Pergaason's  poem  is  eeWaioly  vers  beautiful. 
It  has  all  t)ie  charms  which  depend  oji  rural 
cbuacten  and  manners  happily  ponrtrayed, 
and  exhihiled  under  dteiunstaiices  highly 

Klteful  to  the  imagination.  The  Fanner's 
gle  begins  with  describing  Iht  return  of 
evening.  The  toils  of  the  day  ire  ov^,  and 
the  farmer  retires  to  his  comfortable  fireside. 


And  there  iow  ilai-inn  for  a  baslaid  son, 


The 


Upo"  the  cutty- 
The  "guidii 


iW  0"  01 


t  introduced  as 
le  round  the  fire,  in  the  midst 
of  her  grandchildren,  and  while  she  spins 
from  the  lUck,  and  Che  spindle  plays  on  her 
"russet  lap,"  she  is  telMing  to  the  young- 
ones  tales«t  witches  and  ghosts.    Thepoet 

"Oh,  mock  na  this,  my  friendsl  but  rather 
Ye  in  life's  braweal  sptii^  wl'  reason  clear. 


the  fttigues  of  the  day,  stretches  himself  at 
lenglh  on  the  aeltle,  a  sort  of  rustic  couch 


r  the    succeeding    day.    The    housewife 

le  meideas.    By  d^rees  the  oil  in  the 
iiise  begins  to  fail,  the  fire  mns  low,  steep 


.  and  e.1 


s  is  an  or^nal  and  truly  interesting 
«1.  It  possesses  every  thing  required 
a  species  of  composition.  We  might 
[bcthaps  said  every  thing  that  it  admits, 

.  labours, 


tions.    l-he 

posed  of  his  wife  end  e 


ts  of  less  variety,  it 
I  for 


ildren< 


;  and  it 
loppor. 


representing  s 
snongiy  mterest  the  affections.  The 
younger  diildten  mnning  to  meet  him,  and 
ckmheriug  round  his  luiee — the  elder,  re- 
turning from  their  weekly  labours  with  tha 
'  Ltifuily  deposi'' 


little 


eeiving  their  father's  hi 

Jenny,  iJieir  eldest  daughter,  "■ionian 
grown" — are  circumstances  of  the  most  in. 
iiiresting  kind,  which  are  most  happily  de- 
lineated ;  and  aflet  their  frugal  supper,  thn 
representation  of  these  humble  cotlageri 
forming  a  wider  circle  round  thar  heiath. 


'orship  of  Qod,  n 


S  of  sny 
Hincn  me  rural  muse  nas  ever  presented  to 
the  view.  Bums  was  admirably  adapted  to 
this  delineation.  Like  all  men  of  geniui, 
he  was  of  the  temperament  of  devoUon, 
and  flte  powers  of  memory  con^perated  in 
this  instance  with  the  senaibiUiy  of  hia 
heart,  and  the  fervont  of  his  iraagma. 
tion.  (145)  The  Cotter's  Saturday  Night  ia 
tender  aiid  moral,  it  is  solemn  and  devo- 
tional, and  rises  at  length  into  a  atnun  of 
grandeuc  and  auUunily,  which  modem 
poetry  has  not  surpassed.  T^e  noble  senti- 
ments of  patnotuna  mth  which  it   ctai- 


Hj.m  Google 


BUENS'a   OEIGINAIITr. 


respond  with    the  rest    of  the 

jBstuiol  Piuses  lirciitheri  aoch  elevated 
accent'  if  the  Jlesaaii  of  Pope  be  eiawpted, 
which  la  indeed  a  paitoral  in  form  only.  It 
is  to  be  regretted  that  Burns  did  not  employ 
his  genins  on  other  subjects  of  the  same 
nature,  whidi  the  manners  and  customs  of 
the  Scnltish  peasantry  would  have  amply 
(uppKed.  Such  poetiy  is  not  to  be  esti. 
mated  b;  the  d^ree  of  pleasure  nhich  it 
beatovs ;  it  siiiki  deeply  intji  the  heart,  and 
is  calculaleil,  &r  beyond  any  other  human 

tnd  chaiuctera  it  so  eiqiusitely  describes. 

Before  we  oondude,  it  will  be  jiroper  to 
offer  A  kv  observations  on  tlie  lyrtc  produc- 

land  are  ehiefly  songs,  generally  in  the 
Scottish  dialect,  and  always  after  the  model 
of  the  Scot^ah  songs,  on  the  general  eba- 

observ<tioii8  have  already  been  offered.  We 
Buy  hazard  a  fev  more  particular  remarks. 

Of  the  historic  or  heroic  halhids  of  Scot- 
land, it  is  unnecessary  to  speak.    Bums  has 


Bum%  are,  ahnoal 


a  of  01 


ried  life.  Butns  hai  imiiated  this  species, 
and  surpassed  his  models.  The  song,  be- 
einning,  "  Husband,  huaband,  cease  your 
strife,"  may  be  cited  iu  support  of  this  ob- 

Bre  of  equal  merit,  in  the  rural  songs  of 
Scotland,  whether  humorous  or  tender,  the 
sentiments  are  given  to  particular  chaiactera, 
tnd  very  geuMally.  the  iniadents  are  re- 
ferred to  parliculsr  scenery.  'Ibis  last 
(>]isidn^  ae  the  dis- 
disbing  feature  of  the  Scottish  songs, 
■ '      Me  part  of  tbrir  attrao- 


associate  his  emotions  with  the  charms  of 
eilernel  nature,  and  breathe  the  accents  of 
purity  and  innocence,  as  well  as  of  lore.  In 
these  respects,  the  love-songs  of  SeotUuid 


if  this 


:o  the  re 


found  in  the  poetry  of  Greece  or  Rome,  or 
perhaps  of  any  other  nation.  Many  of  the 
lov&4on^  of  Gotland  desct^be  scenes  of 
rural  courtship;  many  may  be  considered 
as  mvocations  from  lovers  to  thnr  niis- 
iB  sodi  occasions  a  degree  of  ia- 
itiments. 


ippy  ID 


On  a 


la  xhei 


menta. 

of  whatever  nature,  are 

lelivered  in 

the  di 

aiacter  of 
a.    Iflov 

the  Dersoo  pn 

Mipally  in- 

befeoTbed, 

t  £  not  as 

it  is 

baervcd, 

mt  as  it  i.  fel 

:   and  the 

particular 

Ndther 

ressed,asintb 

TrebSted 

ode  0 

Sappho, 

the    model    o 

so    many 

modem  songs,  bu 

t  those  geutler 

motions  of 

terest  and  reality  is  given  (a  the  s 
by  tlie  spot  destined  to  these  hs . , ,  . 
views  being  partionlarijed.  The  (overs 
perhaps  meet  at  tbe  Bush  aboon  Traquair, 
or  on  the  banks  of  Ettrick ;  the  nymphs 
are  invoked  to  wander  among  the  wilds  of 
Koslin.or  the  woods  of  Invermay.  Nor  is 
the  spot  merely  pouieed  out ;  tbe  scenery  is 
often  described  as  well  as  tiie  characters,  so 

^icy.  (147)  'llius  the  maxim  of  Horace  ut 
pidara  poeiis,  ia  feitlifnlly  observed  by  these 
rustic  bards,  who  are  guided  by  tlie  same 

llueuced.  the  father  of  epic  poetry,  on  whose 
eifample  tbe  precept  of  tbe  Roman  poci  waa 
pcrluipa  founded.  13y  this  means  tbe  imagi. 
nation  is  employed  to  interest  the  feeliugs. 
When  we  do  not  ioiu3Hve  distinctly,  we  do 
not  sympathise  deeply  in  any  human  affec. 
tion;  and  we  concave  nothing  in  the  ab- 
suact    Abstraction,  so    useful  in  ntoiids. 


the  po«eta  of  poetry  or  of  eloquence.    The 

individuid  objects ;  and  hence,  among  oth» 
eaiiaes,  the  easy  access  they  obtain  to  the 
heart.  Generaliiatiou  is  tbe  vice  of  poets 
whose  learning  overpowers  tHeir  genius ;  of 
poets  of  a  refined  and  scientilic  age. 

The  dramatic  style  which  prci-ails  so 
much  in  the  Scottish  songs,  while  it  con. 
tributes  greatly  to  tbe  interest  they  evcite, 
also  shows  that  they  have  originated  among 
a  people  in  the  earher  stages  of  society. 
Where  this  fbrm  of  composition  appears  in 
songs  of  a  modern  date,  it  indicates  that 
they  have  been  written  after  the  and^t 
model.  (M8) 

The  Scottish  songs  are  of  very  uneqnal 
poetical  merit,  and  this  inequality  often 
extends  to  the  different  parts  of  the  same 


,)glc 


UPE  OF  BtTtNS. 
■    it  oil 


t,  Hke  eome  poets  of 


Mrious,    ue    tender, 


D,  which  indeed  do  not  «Bsil;    i 


mbellished. 


a  apecies  of  eompoaitiL-. 
The  iLiance  of  the  words  of  the  Scottiih 
HH^a  with  the : 
^ven  to  the  fotmei  b  popularity,  w)iich 
otherwise  they  would  not  hav«  obtained. 
The  aasooifltioil  of   the  words    and 
music  of  these  songs,  with  the  more  be 
tiful  parta    of    the    scener/    of   Scotland, 
contributes  to  the  some  effect.    It  has  given 
them   not  merely  popularilj,  but   perma- 


e,  admitted  ij 

;eiy.      The    laudacspea   he    has 
the  objects  with  which  they  an 

:o  be  found  in  his  O'm  couiitty. 


M  the  works  of  man 


le  durability  of  the  wotka 
of  nature.  If,  from  onr  imperfect  ei- 
perience  of  the  past,  we  may  jiji^e  with 
any  couJidence  respectii^  the  future,  songs 
of  this  deacription  ate  of  ell  others  least 
likely  to  die.  In  the  changes  of  langua^ 
tliey  may  no  doubt  sufler  change ;    but  the 

will  perhaps  sunive.  while  the  clear  stream 
sweeps  down  the  rale  of  Yarrow,  or  tlie 
yellow  broom  waves  on  Cowden-Knowes. 

The  first  attempts  of  Bums  in  song- 
writing  were  not  -very  successful.  His 
habitiul  inattention  to  the  exactness  of 
rhymes,  and  to  the  harmony  of  numbers 
arising  probably  from         m 


likely  to  appear  to  m  re  disa 

this  spedcs  of   eompo 

o^er  i  and  we  may  al     remark 

atrength    of    his    iu  at 

eiub^^nce  of  hb   sc  i 

dilHcnUy  restrained  w  u 

gentleness,  dclieacy,  a 

seemed  to  be  assigned  a 

his  nation.    Sums  waa  be 

lUture  for  following,  i  m  c 

the    model    of  the    Greoa 


in  polished  dehcacy,  with  tlie  Unedt  songj 
our  language,  while  in  the  eloqueuco 
lenaihility  they  surpass  them  all. 

The  songs  of  Bums,  hke  the  models 
followed  ^  excelled,  are  often  drama 
and  for  the  greater  part  amatory ;    and  the 
beauties  of   rf^al   nature  are   cverywheri 
associated  with  the  passions  and  emotiom 
of  the  mind.    Disdaining  to  copy  the  woiki 


ipedally  when  it 
is  comparatively  rude  and  naked,  the  most 
beautiful  scenery  will  always  he  found  in  the 
yallies,  and  on  the  banks  of  the  wooded 

esting  at  the  close  of  a  amnmer-day.  As  wc 
advance  northwards,  the  number  of  the  days 
of  summet,  indeed  diminishes ;  but  from 
this  cause,  as  well  as  from  the  mildness  of 
the  temperature,  the  attraction  of  the 
season  incteasea,  and  the  summer  night 
becomes  siUl  more  beantifid.  The  greater 
obliquity  of  the  sun's  path  on  the  eciiptiCt 
prolongs  the  grateful  season  of  twilight  to 
the  midnight  tuiuis ;  and  the  shades  of  the 
evening  seem  to  mingle  with  tlie  motnuig's 

be  expected,  associate  in  their  songs  the 


To  al!  tliese  adventitious  orcumslancea, 
on  wliich  so  much  of  the  effect  of  poetry 
depends,  gieac  attention  is  paid  by  Bums. 
There  is  scarcely  a  single  song  of  his,  In 
which  particular  scenery  is  not  described  or 
allusions  made  to  natural  objects,  remaikahle 
for  beauty  or  interest;    and  though    his 

met  with  in  the  older  Scottish  songs,  they 
are  in  the  highest  degree  appropriate  and 
inletesting.  Instances  in  ptoof  of  this 
might  be  quoted  ftom  the  Lea  Eig,  High- 
land Mary,  the    Soldier's    Kctum,  Logan 


idaries  of  Scottish 
.id  the  natural  objects  introduced 
re  of  the  character  o(  sublimity.  An 
of  this  kind  is  noticed  by  Mr. 
id  many  others  might  be  adduced  t 


Ho,t,db,  Google 


,n  onnther,  tl 


onded   t 


EEMAEKS  0 


TEE  DIALECT. 


geniHi  of  Burns  lost  aight  eutoely  of 
archetypes,  and  rises  ioto  a  strna  of  nnifbtm 
■ublingity,    lasCsnces  of  this  kind  appeu 
LibetUe,  a  Vision  ;    and  in  his  two  wa 
GOngs,  Brnce  (o  his  Troops,  and  the  Song  of 
Death.     Ihese  kst  are  of  a  description  of 

miiitary,  hut  naval  If  we  were  to  seek  a 
coioparison  of  these  aongs  of  Bums  with 
otbets  of  B  similoi  nature,  we  must  have 
tecoutse  to  the  poetry  of  ancieat  Greece,  ot 
of  modem  Oaul. 

Bums  has  made  an  unporlant  addition  to 
the  songs  of  Scotland.  In  his  compoaitions, 
the  poetry  eqoals  and  snmetimes  surpasses 
the  music     He  has  eolarged  the  poeto^ 

and  mountains,  formerly  uuknown  to  the 
muse,  are  now  conserrated  by  hia  immortal 
verse.  The  Doon,  the  Lu-ar,  the  Ayr,  the 
Nith,  and  the  Cluden,  will  m  fatnre,  like 
the  Yarrow,  the  Tweed,  and  the  Tay,  be 
considered  as  classical  streams,  and  their 
borders   will    he    trodden  with    new    and 

The  greater  part  ot  Che  songs  of  Burns 
vero  written  after  he  removeo  into  the 
county  of  Dumfnes.  Influenced,  perhaps, 
by  habits  formed  in  early  hfe,  he  usuidly 
composed  while  wailfing  in  the  open  iir- 
tVhen  engaged  in  writing  these  songs,  his 
ftvonrite  walks  were  on  the  banka  of  the 
Nith,  or  of  the  Cluden,  particnlarly  near  the 
ruins  ot  linclnden  Abbey ;  and  tliis  beauti- 
fiil  scenery  he  has  very  happily  described 
tinder  variona  aspects,  as  it  appears  dni^is 
the  softness  and  serenity  of  evening,  and 
during  the  stillness  and  Bolemnity  of  the 
moonlight  night. 

There  is  no  species  of  poetry,  the  produc- 
tions of  the  drama  not  excepted,  ao  much 
calculated  to  influence  the  morals,  as  well  as 
the  happiness  ot  a  people,  as  those  popular 
verses  which  are  associated  with  national 
airs :  and  which  bdng  learnt  uk  the  years  ot 
in&n^,  make  a  deqi  impression  on  the 
heart  before  the  evolution  of  the  powers  of 
the  underatandin".  The  compositions  of 
Bums  of  this  kind,  now  ptescntedin  acol- 
lected  form  to  the  world,  make  a  moat  un- 
portant  addition  to  the  popuhit  son^  of  hia 
nation.  like  all  his  other  writing  they 
ralubit  independence  of  sentiment ;  they  are 
peculiarly  i^culated  to  increase  those  tiea 

aod,  and  to  the  domestic  circle  of  their  iu- 


0  cherish  those    Benaliil 


le  composed  so 


his  unguariied 

Ks  on  which 
Et  ns  hope 

that  they  will  speedily  be  forgotten.  In 
several  instances  where  Scottish  au^  were 
allied  to  words  objectionable  in  point  of 
Bums  has  substituted  otiurs  of  a 


suchoc 


withoui 


changing  the  subject,  he  has  changed  the 
sentiments.  A  proof  ofthis  may  be  seen  in 
tiie  air  of  John  Anderson  my  Joe,  which  is 
now  united  to  words  that  breathe  a  strain  of 
conjugal  tenderness,  that  is  as  highly  moral 
aa  it  ia  esquiaitely  affecting. 

Few  circumatancea  conid  afford  a  more 
sttifeing  proof  of  the  strength  of  Bums'a 
genius,  than  the  general  circuktion  of  his 
poems  ui  En^and,  notwiihsl«ailing  the 
didect  in  which  the  greater  part  are  written, 
and  which  might  be  supposed  to  render  them 


onthor 


In  so 


■I  used  tins  dialect  on  subjects  ot  a 
le  nature ;  but  hi  general  he  conSnes 
sentiments  or  description  of  a  tender 


of  a  sublime  and  terrific  nature,  enabled  him 
to  uae  this  variety  of  dialect  on  some  occ^ 
sioiis  nith  sRiking  efC^.  Hia  poem  of  Tain 
o'  Shanter  affords  an  instance  rf  this.  There 
he  passes  from  a  scene  of  the  lowest  humour 
to  situations  of  the  most  awfiil  and  terrible 
kind.  He  ia  a  musician  that  runs  from  tlie 
lowest  to  the  highest  of  his  keys ;  and  the 
use  of  the  Scottish  dialect  enables  him  to 
add  two  additional  notes  to  the  bottom  ot 

Great  efforts  have  been  made  by  the  in- 
habitants of  Bcothuiil,  of  tbe  superior  ranks, 
to  approsiraate  in  their  speech  to  the  pure 
English  standard.  Yet  an  Englishman  who 
undHStands  the  meaning  of  the  Scottish 
wotda.is  not  offended,  nay,  on  certain  lubjecti, 
he  is,  perhaps,  pleased  with  the  rustic  direct, 

country,  if  a  man  of  educaUon,  and  moK 
especially  if  a  literary  character,  has  banished 
such  worik  from  his  writing!,  and  has  at- 
tempted to  banish  them  from  his  speech. 
A  dislike  of  this  kind  is,  however,  ac- 
cidental, not  natural.  It  ia  of  the  species 
of  disgust  which  we  feel  at  seeing  a  female 
of  high   birth  in   the  dreas  ot    e 


.  „  Google 


LIFE  OF  BUMS. 


bdy  who  aasumes  snch  B  dre«  puts  her 
beauty,  indeed,  to  A  severer  triaL  She  re- 
jects— she,  indeed,  opposes  the  infiaence  of 
feshion;  she,  possibly,  abandons  the  grace 
of  ciegaul  and  flowing  drapery ;  but  her 
native  cbarma  rem^n.  the  more  striking, 
perhaps,  because  the  less  adorned,  and  to 
these  she  trusts  for  fising  her  empire  on 
those  affections  over  which  fashion  has  no 
ewAy,  If  she  auc^^eeds,  a  ne^  association 
arises.  The  dress  of  the  heautifiil  rustic  be- 
comes itself  beautiful,  and  establishes  A 
nen  bsbion  for  the  young  and  the  gay. 
And  when,  in  after  ages,  the  contemplative 

that  contains  the  portraits  of  the  beiutiea  i^ 
successive  centuries,  each  in  the  dress  of  her 
respective  day,  her  drapery  will  not  deviate, 
more  than  that  of  her  rivals,  ftom  the 
■tandard  of  his  taste,  and  he  will  give  the 
pitm  to  her  who  excels  iu  the  lineaments  of 

Burns  wrote  professedly  fbt  the  peasantry 
of  lib  country,  and  by  tliem  theic  native 

rousclassoftlienativesot  Scotland  of  another 
descri|ition,  it  may  also  be  considered  as 
attractive    in    a  different    point    of  view. 


er  foreign  lands,  the  idiom  of  their  country 
ilea  wi&  the  sentiments  and  the  deacrip- 
na  on  which  it  is  employed,  to  recal  to 

d  youth — to  awaken  many  pleasing,  mony 

Edinbni^h  or  Aberdeen,  cannot  judge  nn 
for  one  hundred  and  hfty  thousand 
)i  tneir  eipatrialed  countrymen.  (150) 

To  the  use  of  the  Scottish  dialect  in  one 
ipecies  of  poetry,  the  composition  of  son^. 


tliia 


time  reconciled.    The  dialect  i 
excels,  as  has  already  been  observed,  i 
copiousness  and  exactness  of  its  tern 


a  Doric  simplicity  which  is 
very  generally  approved.  Neither  does  the 
tegret  seem  well  foundedubidi  some  persons 
of  taste  have  expressed,  that  Bums  used  this 
dialect  in  so  many  other  of  his  compoGitions. 
His  declared  purpose  was  to  paint  the  man- 

tbis  could  have  been  donewiib  equal  humour 
and  effect,  if  he  bad  not  adopted  thnr  idiom 
There  are  some,  indeed,  who  will  think  tlie 

sickly  tuslc  will  find  their  delicacies  consulted 


them  not  seek  for 

or  in  the    ovetjowering  pensibility  of  this 

To  determine  the  eomparatio  merit  of 
Bums  would  be  no  easy  task.  Many  per- 
sons, afterwards  distioguished  in  htcrature, 
have  been  bom  in  as  humble  a  situation  of 
life;  but  it  would  be  diEcult  to  find  any 
other,  who,  while  earning  his  snbsidtence  by 
daily  hibour,  has  written  verses  wbii^  have 
attracted  and  retained  universal  attention, 
the  author  a 


Hid  di 


ikely  tanve  the  i 
listinguished  place 


.    Ifhe 


s  deGcie 


IS  well 


as  energy;  and  these  are  indications  of  the 
higher  order  of  genius.  The  falher  of  epic 
poetry  exhibits  one  of  h«  heroes  as  excelling 
in  strength,  another  iu  swiftness— to  fona 
his  perfect  warrior,  these  attributes  are  com- 
bined. Ei'ery  species  of  iutellectual  ai^«. 
riurity  admits,  perhaps,  of  a  similar  arrange- 
ment One  writer  excels  in  force— adoiher 
iu  ease;  Ik  is  superior  to  them  both,  iu 
whom  both  these  qualities  are  united.  Of 
Homer  himself  it  may  be  said,  thai,  like  bis 

iu  mobility  as  well  as  strength. 

■(lie  force  of  Burns  lay  in  the  powers  of 
hia  uuderstandinf:  and  iu  the  sensibility  ol 
bis  heart ;  and  these  will  be  found  to  infuse 
the  living  principle  into  ah  the  works  of 
genius  irhich  seem  destined  to  immortaUty. 
His  sensibility  bad  ai      


n  uncommon  range. 


h  '^        hpeasai 


modem  t 


compare  tlie  wn 
with  the  works 
might  appear  pre  mptu  ,  y  may  ba 
asserted  that  he  has  displayed  the  fiiit  of 
Herculss.  How  near  he  ulight  have  ap- 
proached them  by  proper  eidture,  with 
lengthened  years,  and  under  happier  auspices, 
it  is  not  for  us  to  calculate,  Sut  while  we 
run  o^er  the  melancholy  story  of  his  bfe,  it 
is  impossible  not  to  heave  a  sigh  at  the 
asperity  of  bis  fortune ;  and  as  we  survey 
the  records  of  hb  mind,  it  is  easy  to  see, 
that  out  of  such  materiab  have  been  reared 
the  fairest    and  the    most    durabia  of  t 


s  of  genii 


Hosted  by  Google 


LETTES  FROM  GILBERT  BCENS  TO  DR.  CURSIE. 


^bhnk. 


^itiaih  fnmE  Xitteif. 

PEOM  GILBERT  BUENS  TO  DR.  CURME, 


•■3{oss!iiel,2iid  April,  I7B8. 
"I  CAMNOT  pretend  to  be  very  occumte  ir 
respect  to  the  dates  af  the  pi>»a9,  but  nnne 
of  them,  excepting  Winler,  a  Dirge  (whidi 
WB9  s  ja?eDiIe  pruduetion),  The  Deuth  and 
Djipg  Word)  of  poor  Milie,  and  some  of 
the  songs,  were  composed  before  the  year 
1734.  The  circumslancea  of  the  poor  sheep 
vere  pretty  much  as  he  has  described  them. 
"Amon;  the  earliest  of  hia  poeios  nas 
the  Epistle  to  Davie,  Robert  often  eom- 
posed  without  any  vegulu  plan.  When 
Miytliing  mode  n  strong  impression  on  his 


■oiddgi 


the  thought  in  rhyme,  if  he  hit  on  two  or 
three  atanzaa  to  pleaae  bun,  he  would  then 
tllirdc  of  proper  introductory,  connecting, 
and  CDueludiug  stansos ;  hence  the  middle  of 
a  poeni  waa  often  first  produced.  It  was,  I 
Uunk,  in  summer  1784,  when,mthe  interval 
of  liardec  labour,  he  and  I  were  weeding  in 
the  garden  (kail-jard),  that  he  repeated  to 
me  Uie  principal  part  of  this  epistle.  I 
believe  the  first  ides,  of  Eohett'a  becommg 

was  much  pleased  with  the  epistb,  and  said 
to  bun  \  was  of  opinion  it  would  bear  being 
printed,  and  that  it  would  he  well  received 
by  people  of  taste;  that  I  thought  it  at 
l^t  eqnal,  if  not  superior,  to  many  of 
Alhui  Ramsny'a  epiatles ;  and  that  the  merit 
of  these,  and  much  other  Scotch  poetry, 
Kemed  to  consist  principally  in  the  knack 
of  the  expression,  hot  "aae  UiEre  was  a  train 
of  interesting  sentiment,  and  the  Scotticism 
irf  the  language  scarcely  seemed  aSeeted, 
but  appeared  to  be  the  natural  language  of 


lovelty  ii 


Bsides,  there  w 


s  that  w> 


t  the 


talked  of  aendit^ 

as  tliia  plan    afforded,  no    opuortu 

iuioiving  how  it  would  take,  the  ic 


to  the  fKmily  lira  (and  I  could  yet  p« 
the  particular  spot),  that  the  aut 
repeated  to  me  the  Address  to  ' 
I'he  curious  idea  of  such  an  addr 
suggested  to  him  by  running  ovet 
jind  the  many  ludicrous  accounts  t 
re  have  from  te 


tera  of  this  august  personage.  Death  and 
Doctor  Hornbook,  thou^  not  pubhshed  in 
the  Kilmarnock  edition,  was  produced  early 
in  the  year  1785.  The  schoolmaster  of 
Tatbolton  parish,  to  eke  out  the  acan^  sub- 
sistence allowed  to  that  useful  class  of  men, 
upashopof  grocerygoods.     Having 

h  some  medics! 

looks,  and  become  most  hobby-borsicafly 
ittached  to  the  study  of  medicine,  he  had 
idded  the  sale  of  a  few  medimnes  to  his 
ittle  trade.    He  liad  got  sshoii-bill  pi 


accidentally    Mien  ii 


incapacity,  he  had  advertised  that  '  Advice 
would  he  given  in  common  disordei:a  at  the 
shop  gratia,'  Robert  was  at  a  mason  meet- 
ing in  Tatbolton,  when  the  iom'mh  unfor- 
tunately made  too  ostentrtious  a  display  of 
his  medical  skill.  As  he  parted  in  the 
'     idantry  and 


physic,  at  the  place  where  he  deserihes 
meeting  with  Death,  one  of  those  float 


itmg 

Jtter  to  Dr,  Moore,  crossed  h 

lome.  These  circumstances  he  related  when 
le  repeated  the  verses  to  me  next  afternoon, 
a  I  was  holding  the  plough,  and  lie  was 
?tting  the  aater  oft  the  fiehl  beside  me. 

etactly  on  the  occasion  described  by  the 
author.  He  says  m  that  poem, '  On  Fasten 
e'en  we  had  a  rockin.'  1  believe  he  has 
omitted  the  word  roclAnij  in  the  glossary. 
It  is  a  term  derived  from  those  primitive 
times,  whrai  the  countrywomen  empk^ed 
their  spare  hours  in  spinning  on  the  tociC  or 
distalf.  The  simple  implement  is  a  very 
portabts  one,  and  sell  fitted  to  the  social 


of  t 


house;  he 

phrase  had  with  the 


ion  the 

le  spin- 
isedby 


Hosted  by  Google 


LIFE   OP   BURNS. 


house.  Tthen  we  liafl  twelve  or  fifteen  young 
people  with  their  roclcs,  that.  La^iraik's  Boiis, 
beginning — '  When  I  upon  thy  bosom  lean,' 
wu  snng,  and  we  were  informed  who  was 
the  author.  Upon  this,  Robert  wrote  his 
first  epUUe  to  Laipniik,  and  his  second  in 
reply  to  his  auawer.  The  verses  to  the 
Moijse  and  Mountain  Daisy  were  composed 
on  the  occasions  mentioned,  and  while  the 
holding  tlie  plough ;   I  could 


composed. 


int  out  the  particular  spot  where  ei 
mposed.  Holding  the  plough 
pourite  situation  wi^  Hobert  for 


were  prodnced  while  he  waa  at  that  exercise. 
Several  of  the  poems  were  produced  for  Che 
purpose  1^  brin^n^  ftirward  some  favourite 
sentiment  of  l&  author.    Robert  had  fre- 

n:ly  remarked  to  me  that  be  thought 
was  something  peculiarly  venerable  in 
.  the  phrase, '  Let  m  worship  God,'  used  by  a 
decent,  sober  head  of  a  ^ily.  uitroducin;; 
family  worship.  To  this  sentiment  of  the 
author  the  world  is  indebted  for  the  Cottar's 
Saturday  Night.    'When  my  brother    had 

thought  fit  to  participate,  we  used  frequently 
to  mlfc  tJ^etlier,  when  the  weather  was 
laVDurahle.  on  the  Sunday  afCemoons  (those 
predous  breathing  times  to  the  labouring  part 
otthe  community),  and  cqjoyedsiu^h  Sundays 
as  would  make  one  regret  to  see  their  number 


Itwi 


leofth 


(stha 


I  first  had  the  pleasure  of  heaiinK  the 
author  repeat  the  Cotter's  Saturday  Night. 
I  do  not  recollect  to  have  read  or  heard  aiij'- 
tbii^  by  whichi  iras  more  bighty  eleefi^eil. 
The  filth  and  siith  staniaa,  and  the  eight- 
eenth, thirled  with  peculiar  ecstacy  through 
my  souL    I  mention  this  to  you,  that  you 

eritidsm.  I  should  be  glad  to  ^now,  if  the 
enlightened  mmd  and  refined  taste  of  Mr. 
Poscoe,  who  has  borne  such  honourable 
testimony  to  this  poem,  agrees  with  me  in 
the  aelecKon.  Fei^sson,  in  his  Hallow 
Fair  of  EdinbDr);h,  I  believe,  likemse  fur- 
nished a  hint  of  the  title  and  plan  of  the 
Holy  Fmi.  The  tarciod  scene  the  poet 
there  describes  was  often  a  favourite  field  of 
hii  observation,  and  the  moat  of  the  inddenta 
he  mentions  had  actually  passed  before  his 
eyes.  It  ia  scarcely  necessary  to  mention, 
that  The  lament  was  composed  ou    that 


tory  whith  I  have  mentioned  in  my  letter  to 
Mrs.  Ilunlop,  after  the  first  distraction  ol 
his  feehngs  had  a  httle  subsided.  The  Tws 
Dogs  was  composed  after  the  resolution  of 
puUishiug  was  nearly  taken.     Robert  had  i 


bad  a  dog,  which  he  called  Luath,  that  was 
a  great  &TOorite.  The  dog  had  been  Itilled 
by  the  wanton  cruelly  of  soma  person  the 
night  before  my  fether'a  death.  Kohert  said 
to  me.  that  be  should  lilu  to  confer  such 
immortaUty  sa  he  couhj  bestow  upon  his  old 
friend  Luath,  and  that  he  had  a  great  mind 
to  mtroduce  something  into  the  book,  under 
the  title  of  Stanwis  to  the  Memory  of  a 
Quadruped  Friend;  but  this  plan  was  given 
up  for  the  tale  as  it  now  stands.  Cssat  was 
merely  the  creature  of  the  poet's  ima^a- 
tion,  created  for  the  purpose  of  holding  chat 
with  his  favourite  Luath.  The  first  time 
Robert  heard  the  spinnet  played  upon,  waa 
at  the  house  of  l)r.  Inwrie,  then  minister  of 
the  parish  of  Loudon,  now  in  Gla^ow, 
having  given  up  the  parish  m  ftvonr  of  his 
son-  Dr.  l^ivrie  has  several  daughters ; 
one  of  them  played;  the  father  and  mother 
led  down  the  dance ;  the  rest  of  the  sister^ 
the  brother,  the  poet,  and  the  other  guests, 
miied  in  it.  It  was  a  delij-htfal  family 
scene  for  our  poet,  then  lately  introduced  to 
the  world.    Hism'    ■ 


on]w. 


?  .["h" 


where  he  slept.  It  was  to  Dr.  Lawrie  tha' 
Dc,  Blacklock'a  letter  was  oddteased,  which 
my  brotlier,  in  hia  letter  to    Dr.   Moor^ 


LETTER  OF  GILBERT  BOBNS. 

The  editor  [Dr.  Cnrrie]  has  particular 
■asure  in  prearating  to  the  public  tha 
lowii^  letter,  to  the  due  understanding  of 
lich  a  fen  prerioua  obseriradana  ue 
Misery. 

sus  of  hearing  the  opinion  of  the  friend 
brother  of  the  poet,  on  the  manner  in 
h  he  had  executed  his  task,  before  a 
Eccond  edition  should  be  committed  to  the 
presa.  He  bad  the  satis&ction  of  receiving 
this  opinion,  in  a  letter  dated  the  24th  of 
August,  approving  of  the  Ijfe  in  very 
obliging  terms,   and  offering  one  or    two 

chieSy,  which  are  made  in  this  edition.  Ona 

ent  kind.    In  the  319th  page  [correspoml' 


from  the  pastoral  song,  Fttnck  Ranks  and 
an  explanation  given  of  the  phrase  "raony 
feck,'^  which  occurs  in  this  quotation  frtip- 
pouug   the    Benae   to    be   complete   after 


n  Google 


Thf 


mony,"  (he  editor  had  considered  "feck"  i 
uatic  oatli  which  otinfirraed  the  assertion 

rda  were,  therefore,  separated  by  i 
Mr.  Burns    considered  this  bt. 

"Feck,"  he  preiun 


-r  qnanlily,  ai 


nony 


fetk" 


to  niean  siiDply,  very  many.    The  edito.,  _. 

E 'elding  Ut  this  authority^  erpressed  some 
citation,    and    hinted    that    the    plurasfl 
"mony  feet"  was.  in  Mr.  Bums's  sense. 

this  beautifia  sons.  Hia  reply  to  this  obser- 
vation makes  the  first  clause  of  the  following^ 
letter. 

Id  the  same  communioition  he  infbrmed 
me,  that  Uie  Mirror  and  the  Lounfer  were 
proposed  by  him  to  the  Conversalion  Clnb 
of  MauchUne.  and  tiiat  he  had  thoughts  of 
.9  sentiments  on  the  remarks  I 
respecting  the  fitness  of  sneh 
ks  for  such  sooeUea.  The  observatiDiia 
lucb  a  man  on  sudi  a  inbject,  the  editor 
wiced  would  be  received  with  particular 
rest  bv  the  Dubhc.  and.  havinff  nressed 
lestly  for  tl 


SV. 


toMm 


.    Of 


they  Bill  be  found  in  the 
'  -liacom- 

imfrom 


by  foreign  intenmirae,  'whose  soul-proud 

covered  barbanam  m  the  song  of  Ettrick 
Banks 

"  The  story  you  have  hrard  of  the  gabla 
of  my  ^her^s  house  ^Ihug  down,  is  simply 
as  follows  (!S1) :— When  my  father  bmlt  his 
'  elay  bi^in,'  he  put  in  two  stone-jambs,  as 
they  are  called,  and  a  hiitel,  catrjiiig  up  a 
chimney  in  his  clay-gable.  Tlie  consequence 
was,  that  as  the  gable  subsided,  the  jambs, 
temaining  Urm,  threw  it  off  ila  centre ;  and 
one  very  sC 


test  appeared  so  shattered,  tliat  my  mother, 
with  the  yoimg  poet,  had  to  be  carried 
throe-'-"--  " —  -  -  --^-i  ■---.- <--- 


think  tc 


where  tliey  remained  a  week  till  their  own 
'     "■  adjusted.    That  you  may  not 

anly  of  this  house,  or  of  my 
miner  s  tasie  in  building,  by  supposing  tluj 
poet's  description  in  tlie  Vision  (which  ia 
entirely  a  oncy  picture)  applicable  to  i^ 
allow  me  to  lake  notice  to  you,  that  tha 

fire-place  and 


ohim 


;  thai 


ng  DumfiTei-thire,  2ith  Oc*,  1800. 
B  Sir.— Tours  of  the  17th  instant 
uy  hand  yesterday,  and  I  ait  down 


:d  bed  m  the  kitcben,  with  a  email 
closet  at  the  end,  of  the  same  materials  with 
the  bouse  i  and  wlieo  altogether  cs 


II  be  able  I 


ihalll 


sorry  yoii 


it  had  a 


conviction  is  not  complete  rejpectiugjici;. 
There  is  no  doubt,  that  if  you  take  two 
English  words  which  appear  synonymous  to 
tnaay  feci,  and  judge  by  the  rules  of  English 

belieie,  if  you  take  this  mode  of  tranelatmg 
from  any  language,  the  effect  will  trequentiy 
be  the  same.  Sut  if  you  take  the  eipresaion 
numjr  feck  to  have,  as  I  have  stated  it,  the 
same  mcanuig  with  the  English 
vets  fflonj  (and  such  licence  every 
must  be  allowed,  espedally  when  he  trans- 
lates from  a  simple  dialect  which  has  never 
been  subjedeLl  to  rule,  and  where  the  precise 

niinulely  attended  to)',  it  will  be  well  enough. 
One  thing  I  am  certam  of,  that  ours  a  the 
sense  universally  understood  in  this  country; 
and  I  believe  no  Scotsman  who  has  hved 
ccmtented  at  home,  pleased  with  the  simple 
manners,  the  simple  melodies,  and  the  sun. 
pie  dialect  of  his  native  country,  uuvitiated   I 


family  of 

of  hvii^  would  think  themselves  ill-lodged 
m.  I  wish  likewise  to  take  notice  in  passing, 
that  although  the  '  Cotter  *  in  the  Saturd^ 
Night,  is  au  enact  copy  of  my  &ther  in  hii 

tions,   yet  the  other  parts  of  the  descrip- 


mily.    Non 
at  amang  tlie 


1  penny  fee '  with  our  parenU,  my 
father  laboured  hard,  and  lived  with  the 
moat  rigid  economy,  that  he  might  be  able 
to  keep  his  children  at  home,  thereby  having 
an  opportunity  of  watching  the  prioress  id 
onr  young  mituls,  and  forming  in  them 
early  habits  of  piety  and  virtue ;  snd  from 
this  motive  alone  did  he  engage  in  fanning-— 
the  source  of  all  bis  dilUculties  and  dis- 
tresses. 
"  When  I  threatened  you  in  my  last  with 
"      subject  of  ■'     '     '    ' 


e  effects  of  n 


.uchline  Club,  a 


Hosted  by  Google 


LIFE  OF  BURNS. 


public,  70U  might  lake  up  tbe  subject  more 
at  large;    that  by  means  of  your  happy 

al  power  Bnd  influencB  might  be  lixed  on  it. 
I  had  Uttle  eipectatiou,  hoveier,  that  I 
ghonld  overcome  my  indolence,  and  the  difli- 
cnlty  of  aiTBii^n^  my  thongbta  bo  for  aa  to 
put  my  threat  in  eieeution ;  till  some  time 
»go,  before  I  had  finished  ray  harrest, 
having  a  call  from  Mr.  Evart  (152),  with  a 


longer  at  hberty  to  decline 


Ibener- 
lelfno 


vhat  ha» 

whete  people  capable  of  observation,  and  of 
placing  their  remarke  in  a  proper  point  of 
yiew,  have  seldom  an  opportunity  of  inakiiig 
their  remarks  on  real  life.  In  doing  this,  I 
may  perhaps  he  led 


infotmadon  I 


persoi 


h  yon  did  ni 


:atuig 


valuable  riches  may  he  as  the  means  of  com- 
fort, independence,  and  the  pleasure  of  doing 
good  to  others,  yet  I  am  of  opinion  tbat  they 
may  be,  and  frequently  are,  purchased  at  too 
great  a  cost,  and  that  sacrifices  are  mads  in 
the  pursuit,  which  the  acquisition  cannot 
compenaate.  I  remember  hearing  my  worthy 
teacher,  Mr.  Murdoch,  relate  an  anecdote  to 
iny  father,  which  I  think  sets  this  matter  in 
a  strong  light,  and  perhaps  was  the  origin, 
or  at  least  tended  to  promote  this  way  of 
thinking  in  me.  Wlien  Mr.  Murdoch  left 
Alloway,  he  went  to  teach  Mid  reside  m  the 
family  of  " 


nei^bou 


se  candour,  and  even  per- 


rslife:t 


connected.    ' 


s  of  life,  of  duty,  and  of : 
bappineas ;  the  other,  the  particular  arta  of  ; 
lu9  employment  or  situation  in  society,  and 
'  59  of  knowledge  therewith 

nwe,  as  noinmg  can  be  more  disgraceful 
than  ignorance  m  the  way  of  one's  oira  pro- 
knowledge  may  be,  if  he  is  ill-inlbrmed  there, 
be  can  neither  be  a  useful  nor  a  respectable 
member  of  society.  It  ia,  nevertheless,  true, 
tliat '  the  proper  study  of  mankind  is  man  1' 
■ '     what  duties  are  incumbent  on 


1  think  the  pursuit  of  happiness  is  too  fre- 
quently confined  to  tlie  endeavont  after  the 
scqui!ition  of  wealth.  1  do  not  wish  to  be 
considered  as  an  idle  declaimer  against  riches, 

will  still  be  considered  by  men  of  common 
sense  as  objects  ot  importance,  and  poverty 
will  be  telt  as  a  sore  evil,  after  all  the  fine 
tilings  that  can  be  aud  of  its  advanti^s ; 
on  the  contrary.  I  am  ot  opinion,  that  a 
great  proportion  of  the  miseries  of  life  arise 
ftom  the  want  of  economy,  and  a  prudent 
attrition  to  numey,  or  the  iU-dirccted  or 
intemperate  pursuit  of  it.    But  honevei 


ber  of  S( 

the  father  1 
sons.  The  fether  rqitied  that  he  had  not 
determined.  The  visitor  said  that,  were  he 
in  his  place,  he  would  give  them  all  good 
education  and  aend  tliem  abroad,  without, 
perhaps,  having  a  preciae  idea  where.  The 
father  objected,  that  many  young  men  loat 
their  health  in  foreign  countries,  and  many 
their  lives.  True,  replied  the  visitor,  but  ai 
j'ou  have  a  nnmbar  of  sons,  it  will  be  strange 
if  some  one  ot  them  does  not  Bva  and  malie 

"  Let  any  person  who  has  the  feelings  of 
a  fether.  comment  on  this  story ;  but  though 
few  will  avow,  eveu  to  themsdvea,  that  such 
views  govern  their  conduct,  yet  do  we  not 
daily  see  people  shipping  off  their  sons  {and 
who  would  do  so  by  their  daughters  also,  if 
there  were  any  demand  for  them),  that  they 

ly  be  rich  or  perish? 


"Ilie 
«ldom  c. 


of  tb 


IS  of  raising  th 


,  thing  to  b^n  with,  and  cannot 
calculate,  with  any  degree  of  esactness,  tbe 
difhculties  to  be  surmounted,  the  mortifica- 
tions to  be  suffered,  and  the  degradation  ot 
character  to  be  submitted  U>,  in  lending; 
one's  self  to  he  the  minister  of  other  people's 
vices,  or  in  the  practice  of  rapine,  fraud,  op- 
pression, or  diasunnlation,  in  the  progress; 
bat  even  when  the  wished-for  end  ia  attained, 
it  may  be  qnestioned  whether  happuiess  be 
much  increased  by  the  change.  When  I  have 
seen  a  fortunate  adventurer  of  the  lower 
ranks  of  bfe  retiuncd  from  the  East  or  West 
Indies,  with  all  the  hauteur  of  a  vulgar 
mind  accustomed  (0  be  aerved  by  slaves,  as- 
suming a  character,  which,  from  early  hahita 
of  hfe,  he  is  ill  fitted  to  support — displaying 
ouigui£cence  which  raises  the  envy  of  some. 


Ho,t,db,  Google 


and  the  contempt  of  others — idaiming  an 
equality  with  the  great,  which  they  ate  mi. 
willtng  to  altoT — inly  pining  at  the  preee- 
dence  of  the  hereditary  gentry — maddened 
by  tlie  polished  insolence  of  some  of  the 
miwotthy  part  of  them — seeking  pleasure  in 
the  society  of  men  who  ean  condescend  to 
flatter  hint,  and  list^  to  bis  absurdity  for 
the  sake  of  a  good  dinner  and  good  wine^- 
I  caimot  avoid  concluding,  that  his  brother, 
or  cotnumian,  who.  1^  a  dilig«it  appliotion 
to  the  labouTS  of  agnculture,  or  some  use^ 
meehanic  employment,  and  the  careful  hus- 
banding of  his  gains,  has  acquired  a  com- 

and,  in  the  eye  of  a  person  who  can  talte  an 
enlarged  view  of  mantiad.  a  much  more 
respeciable  man. 

"  But  the  votaries  of  wealth  may  be  con- 
Mdeted  as  a  great  number  of  candidates 
atiivuig  ftir  a  few  prises :  and  whatever  ad. 
dition  the  successful  may  make  to  th«r  plea- 
sure orhappinea3,the  disappointedwill  alnayi 
have  more  to  suffer,  I  am  aftad,  than  those 
who  abide  contented  in  the  station  to  nhich 
they  were  hom.  I  wish,  therefore,  the  edu- 
cation of  the  lover  closaeA  to  be  promoted 
and  directed  to  their  improvement  as  men, 
aa  the  means  of  increasing  their  rirtue,  and 
Openmg  to  them  new  and  dignified  sources 
of  pleasure  and  happiness.  I  have  heard 
•ome  people  object  to  the  education  of  the 
loner  classes  of  mep,  aa  rendering  them  less 
us^l,  by  abstracting  them  from  their  pro- 
per business;  others,  as  tending  to  make 
them  saucy  to  their  sujierioi's,  impatient  of 
their  condition,  and  turbnlent  subjects; 
while  you,  with  more  humanity,  have  your 
bars  alarmed,  lest  the  delicacy  of  mind, 
induced  by  that  son  of  education  and  read- 
ily I  recommended,  should  render  the  evils 


- 1  do  not  r 
lofmyfo 


controvert  your  etiti- 
ooks  the  MuTor  and 


Lounger,  ^though  I  understand  tl 
people  who  think  themselves  judges  who 
not  agree  with  yon.  The  acquisition 
knowledge,  except  wliat  is  connected  w 
hnman  life  and  conduct  or  He  part  cu 
business  of  his  emibvment  doea  not  i 
pear  to  me  to  be  the  fittest  pursiut  lb 
peasant    I  would  say  with  the  poet 


'Hovri 


36  the  U(e,  I 


sze.    1  understand 


it  to  he  the  perception  and  rdiah  of  beauty, 
order,  or  any  other  thing,  tlie  contemplation 
of  which  gives  pleasure  and  delight  to  the 
mind.  I  suppose  it  ia  in  this  sense  jon  wish 
it  to  be  understood.  If  I  am  right,  ths 
taste  which  these  hoots  are  calculated  to 
cultivate  (besides  the  taste  for  fine  writing, 
which  many  of  the  papers  tend  to  improve 
and  to  gratify),  is  what  is  proper,  consistent, 
and  becoming  in  human  character  and  con. 
duct,  aa  almost  every  paper  relates  to  thestt 

"I  am  sorry  I  have  not  these  books  bf 

I  remeralsr  two ;  one,  the  beautiful  story  of 
La  Roche,  where,  besides  the  pleasure  one 


esfrom 


autiful  sii 


nt'Kenzie's  happies 
to  taste,  with  heartfelt  rapture,  the  consola- 
tion to  be  derived  in  deep  alSiction,  from 
habitual  devotion  uid  trust  in  Almighty 
God.  The  other,  the  story  of  General 
-,  where  the  reader  is  "  " 


high  rehsh  for  li 


;  firmti 


mind  w 


"  Allow  me  then  to  remark,  that  if  the 
morality  of  these  books  ia  subordinate  to 

fiiiemenl  of  mind  and  delicacy  of  sentiment 
which  they  are  intended  to  give,  are  the 
strongest  guard  and  surest  foundation  of 
morality  and  rittue.  Other  moralists  guud, 
as  it  were,  the  overt  act ;  these  papers,  by 
exalting  duty  into  sentiment,  are  calculated 
to  make  every  deviation  from  rectitude  and 
propriety  of  conduct,  pMnful  to  the  mind 

'  WhoSB  temper's  pinsors, 
Kellne  at  lei^h.  and  every  paesion  weara 

"  1  readily  grant  you,  that  the  reSnement 
of  mind  which  1  contend  for  increases  our 
sensibility  to  the  evils  of  life ;  but  what  sta- 
tion of  life  is  without  its  evils?  There 
seems  to  be  no  snch  thing  as  perfect  hap. 
piness  in  this  world,  and  we  must  balance 
the  pleasure  and  the  pain  which  we  derive 

date  it  in  the  case  before  us.  I  apprehend, 
that  on  a  minute  eiamination  it  wUl  appear, 
that  the  evils  peculiar  to  the  lower  ranks  of 
life  derive  their  power  to  wound  us,  more 
from  the  suggestions  of  ftlse  pride,  and 
the  "contagion  of  luiurv.  weak  and  vile.' 
than  the-   


Hosted  by  Google 


LIFE  OF  B0ES3. 


tote  to  wtrich  we  irere  more  indebted,  tlum 
that  by  which  'eaatom  maket  ningafiatiiliar 
and  eaig '  (a  copy  Mr.  Murdoch  us^  to  set 


in  healtb,  if  he  is 
ploymea^  ot  doet 


it  aahimed  of  his 
t  begin  to  compare 


itself;  that  wliite  he  performs  ari^bt  tbe 
duties  of  that  station  in  which  Ood  has 
placed  him,  he  ia  as  great  as  a  ting  in  tbe 
eyes  of  Him  whom  he  is  principaUy  desirous 
tu  please ;  tor  the  man  of  taste,  who  b  con- 
stantly obliged  to  labour,  must  of  necessity 
be  religions.  If  you  teach  him  only  to 
reason,  you  may  make  him  an  atheist,  a  de- 
mago^e,  or  any  vile  thing ;  but  if  you 
teach  him  to  feel,  his  feelings  can  oidy  find 
their  proper  and  nitnial  relief  in  devotion 


C^e  to  repine  and  grudge  tbyhard  estaCal 
That  like  an  emmet  thou  must  fmr  moil, 

And,  eertes,  there  is  ^r  it  reason  itreat ; 
AllhonA  aometimiss  it  malies  Ibee  weep  and 
wail,  [lalS! 

Andeurse  thy  star,  and  early  drutee,  — ' 

Wlthouten  that  would c ^—-■-■f 

loose  life,  unrulypassii 


«spale1' 
e  he  repeats  the  words,  the 


chili'   I  can  say,  from  my  own  esperieiice, 

tistent  with  the  most  reKned  and  pleasurable 
state  ot  the  mind  that  I  ani  acquainted  with, 
tbrasbing  alone  excepted.  That,  indeed,  I 
have  always  considered  as  insupportable 
diui^ry,  and  think  the  ingenious  mechanic 
who  mvcnted  ths  thrasbin^-machine,  ought 
to  have  a  statue  among  the  bene&ctocs  of 
his  country,  and  sliould  be  placed  in  tbe 
niche  neit  to  the  person  who  introduced  the 
culture  of  potatoes  into  this  island. 

"Perhaps  the  thing  of  most  unportancein 
the  education  of  the  common  people  is,  to 

Etevent  the  intrusion  ot  artiKcial  wants,  I 
less  the  memory  of  my  worthy  &tber  for 
almost  every  thing  in  Ibe  dispositions  of  my 
mind,  and  my  h^ita  of   life,  which  I  can 


approve  of;  and  for  none  more  than  tho 
pains  he  took  to  impress  my  mind  with  the 
sentiment,  that  nothing  was  more  nnmorihy 
the  character  of  a  man,  that  that  his  happi. 
ness  should  ui  the  least  depend  on  what  ho 
should  eat  or  drink.  So  early  did  he  im- 
_ —  , :..  J  ^^1.  *i.^  ^ji^j  although  I 


rally  a 


dnd  of  BV 


and  if  1  did,  evecy  monihfiil  I  swallowed 
was  accompanied  with  shame  and  remorse ; 
and  to  this  hour  I  never  indulge  in  the  nsa 
of  any  debcaey,  but  I  feel  a  considerable 
degree  of  self  reproach  and  alarm  for  the 
degradation  of  the  human  character,  Sucli 
a  habit  of  thinkmg  I  consider  as  of  great 
consequence,  both  ta  the  virtue  an*^  happi' 
ness  of  men  in  the  lower  raiita  of  life.  And 
thus.  Sir,  1  am  of  opinion,  that  if  tli«r 
Minds  are  early  and  deeply  impressed  with 
a  sense  of  the  dignity  of  man,  as  such ;  with 
the  love  of  independence  and  of  industry, 
economy  and  temperance,  as  the  most  ob- 
vious means  of  making  Ibemaelvea  inde- 
pendent, and  tlie  vi 
tbcir  situation,  and  ne 
ness ;  men  in  the  lower  ranks  of  life  I'uay 
partake  of  the  pleasures  to  be  derived  from 
the  peruaal  of  hooks  calcalated  to  improve 
the  mind  and  refine  the  taste,  without  any 
danger  of  becoming  mora  imhappy  m  their 
HtnatJon,  or  discontented  with  it.  Nor  do 
I  think  there  is  any  danger  of  tberr  he- 
coming  less  useful.  There  are  some  hours 
ev«y  day  ibat  th 


e  houti 


are  either  appropi 
sloth.  _  If   a    ta> 

suppose  that  tbe 


pates  the  mind,  and  the  other  tends  to  in. 
crease  its  powers  of  eelf-govemment.  To 
those  who  are  afraid  that  the  improvement 
of  tlie  minds  of  tlie  common  people  might 
be  dangerous  to  the  slate,  or  the  eatablisbed 
order  of  society,  I  would  remark,  that  tur- 
bulence and  commotion  are  certainly  very 
'  '    '    '  '    tbe  ieehngs  of  a  reSned  mind. 


'■--,    Ofw"- 


of  people  are  mobs  and  insurrections 
posed?  Are  they  not  universally  owing 
[he  want  of  enlargement  and  improve- 


Ho,t,db,  Google 


meat  of  mind  tunong  the  common  people 
Nay,  let  any  one  recollect  the  characteta  of 
those  who  formed  the  calmet  and  mote  c 
liherate  aasociatioua,  which  Utely  gave 


Tonld   h 


sisting  of  the  books  which  the  young 
people  had  i^od  extracts  from  in  the  collect 
tions  they  had  reed  at  school,  and  any  othei 
booki  well  culculBt«d  to  refine  the  mind,  im- 
moral [eeluigs,  tecomiaeud  the 


e  of  virtue,  and  o 


Allow 


1  fori 


_  Lien  the  minds  of  the 
in  people.  Their  morals  have  hitherto 
been  yarded  hv  a  aort  of  dim  relifpoua  awe, 
which,  troia  a  vodcty  of  cousea,  seems  wear- 
ing oK  I  tliink  the  alteration  in  thia  re- 
spect considerable,  in  the  short  period  of  my 
obaeriation.  I  liave  already  ^ven  my 
opmion  of  the  effects  of  refinement  of  mind 


.  .  I  nothing  but 
reflncnient  of  mind  can  enable  them  to  dis- 
tinguish between  the  pure  essence  of  reii- 
sion,  and  the  gross  systems  which  men  have 
been  perpetually  CDimecth^  it  with.  In. 
addition  to  what  has  already  been  done  fE>r 
the  education  of  tlie  common  people  of  thia 
country,  in  the  estabtishmmt  of  parish 
srhoola,  1  wish  to  see  tlie  salaries  augraeulert 

of  hvii^.  and  the  earning  of  peopte  of 
Niiular  rank,  euJowments,  and  usefuhiess,  in 
aociety;  and  1  hope  that  the  liherality  of 
the  presMit  i^  will  be  no  longer  disgraced 
by  refusing,  to  ao  useful  a  daas  of  men. 
luch  enconn^ment  as  may  make  pa.ish 
schools  worth  liie  attention  of  men  fitted  for 
important  duties  of  that  offlce.    In  fill- 


i  Ubrai 


recommending  books  to  his  young  friends, 
formerly  his  pupils,  and  lettir^  in  the  light 
of  them  npon  their  young  minda,  he  should 
have  the  assistance  of  the  minister.  If  once 
such  edueatioB  were  become  general,  tho 
low  delights  of  the  public-house,  and  othec 
scenes  of  riot  and  depravity,  would  be  con- 
temned   and    neglected;     while    industry. 


Id  prevail  and  Hoori 
,  virtuous  and  e 
high  delight  I 


commend,  n 

populace,  w         .  ^  ^ 

'nmy  native  country  as  at  the  head  of  au 
nations  of  the  earth,  ancient  or  modem- 
'  Tfaua,  Sit,  hare  I  executed  my  threat  to 
tiie  fullest  extent,  in  regard  to  the  length  ot 
ray  letter.  If  I  bad  not  presumed  on  doing 
rC  more  to  my  liking,  I  should  not  have  un- 


hould  succeed  ai 


LIll 


log 


p  the  VI 


Bould  h 
andidote's  ca])acity  of 


and  nropriety — to  his  understsnding  tho- 
roughly, and  having  a  high  fcliih  for,  the 
beauties  of  English  authors,  both  iu  poetry 
and  prose — to  that  good  sense  and  know- 
ledge of  human  nature  which  would  enable 
him  to  acquire  some  influence  on  the  minds 
and  affectiona  of  his  scholars— to  the  genend 
worth  of  bis  character,  and  the  love  of  his 
long  and  his  country — than  to  his  proficiency 
in  the  knowledge  of  Latin  and  QreeL  I 
would  then  have  a  sort  of  high  English 
class  estibUshed,  not  only  for  the  purpose  of 
teaching  the  pupils  to  read  in  that  ^oefnl 
and  agreeable  maTiner  that  might  make  them 
fond  of  reading,  but  to  make  tiiem  uiider- 
etand  what  they  read,  and  discover  the 
beautiea  of  the  author,  iu  composition  and 


with.    But 


ich  pleased  with  the  si 
ith  the  terms  on  which  ±  possess  it,  t 
i  great  encouragement  likodae  in 
ig,  enclosing,  and  other  convenience^ 
ham  my  landlord,  Mr.  Q.  S.  Monteith,  whose 

'    "^        '      md  conduct,  as  a  landlord 

mn  try-gentleman,  I  am  highly  pleased 

considerable  immediate  outlay  of 

grubbing  ofbrush-wood,  removing  of  atones, 
Sx.,  nhii^  twriic  years'  struggle  with  a 
^rm  of  a  cold  nngratefiil  soil  has  hut  ill- 
prepared  me  for.  It  I  can  get  these  thmgs 
done,  however,  to  my  mind,  I  think  (here  i« 
est  to  a  certainty  that  in  five  or  sis  years 
shall  be  in  a  hopeful  way  of  attaining  a 
tuation  which  I  think  as  eligible  for  happU 


nion,  that  if  a  man 

brec 

eSe, 

fa 

farming  life,  who 

go 

d  soil,  on  such  term 

enables 

ih 

0  psy  all  demand^ 

a  no 

happy. 

Ho,t,db,  Google 


LIFE   OF  BURNS. 


he  oi^hl  to  look  sommhere  else 
•■  I  li^  you  ■ 


will  present  my  most  tespect- 
101  compliments  to  Mrs.  Currie,  and  remem- 
ber me  to  Mr.  end  Airs.  Roscoe,  and  Mr 
Koscoc,  Junior,  tlie  worth  of  vhose  kind 
Bttentiooa  to  me,  when  in  Liverpool,  I  shall 

obedient,  «nd  much  obliged  humble  aeivimt, 

"GlLUUET  BUBNS. 

•  lb  James  Cwrrie,  M.D.,  FJt.S. 
lAoerpooiP 


%'^  Warn,  E.\}i\\m,  anil  SintlirT  if 

©snis. 
At  the  time  o(  Burn's  decease,  his  family 

born  St  Mauchline,  in  1706;  Fnmd)  Wal- 
lace,   bora   at  raiisland,   Aptil   9,  1791: 
■William  Nicol,  bom  at  Dumlnes,  Noi 
21,  1792;   and  Jan       "■ 


1  fuuers 
;  dill  not  Ion 


J  Gleni 


ived  the  name  of 
survive.  Frau™ 
lion  vinurity,  died 


•t  the  age  of  fourteen, 
ions  yet  (1838)  surcivs.  Robert  received  a 
good  education  at  the  academy  of  Dumfries, 
was  two  aesHons  at  the  univeraitj  of  Ediu- 
bnigh,  and  one  at  the  nnirei«ty  of  Glas- 
gow; and  in  1BD4  obtained  a  aitnation  in 
the  Stamp  OBIce,  London,  where  he  con- 

uarro*  ii^come  by  teaching  tbe  elassiei  and 
maihematicB.  It  is  rcmathable,  that  duruig 
ttuLt  Ion);  time  he  and  hia  mother,  though  on 
the  best  term!,  never  once  met.    In  1S33, 


he  retired  to  Dumfries,  where  he 
He  has  the  dark  eyes,  large  Y 
swarthy   comjitexion    ^'    '"""    '~^ 


li  mote  than  the  average  of 


li  his  father 


la  geometry- 


have  beeu  aware  of  William  and  James 
Tent  out  to  India  on  cadetsbipa,  and  have 
each  risen  to  the  rank  of  major  in  the 
Companj-'s  service.    "  Wherever  these  men 

garded'as  the  scions  of  a  nJble  stock,  and 
■  e  cordial  greetings  of  hundreds 
saw  their  faces  before,  but  who 
account  it  s.  happiness  to  grasp,  in  ftienr" 

blood  of  Biirus."— jtfDiffinnid'j  Picture 
Jhimfries. 


who  never  si 


The  only  dependence  of  Mrs.  Bums,  after 
T  husband's  death,  was  on  an  annuity  of 
n  pounds,  arisii^  ^m  a  benefit  society 
■miected  with  the  Encise.  the  books  and 
property  left  to 


isity  of  the  pi 


as  we  are  informed  by  Di,  Currie,  produced 
seven  hundred  pounds ;  and  tbe  works  of 
the  poet,  as  edited  with  aingular  taste  and 
judgment  by  that  gentleman,  brought  neariy 
two  thousand  more.  One  half  of  the  latiec 
sum  was  lent  on  a  bond  to  a  Oolloway 
genllem 


,t.  for  i 


iod.    Mrs. 


reside  in  the  house  whii^  hud  been  Dccu< 
pied  by  her  hnsbaiid  and  herself,  and 

For  many  yeiu?  after  her  sons  had  left  her 
lo  pursue  theit  fortunes  in  the  world,  she 
Uved  in  a  decent  and  respectable  manner,  on 
an  income  which  neler  amounted  to  more 
than  £(12  per  annum.  At  length,  in  1317, 
at  a  festival  held  in  Edinburgh  to  celebcate 
the  bkth-dBy  of  the  bard,  Mr.  Henry,  (now 
Lord)  Cockburn  actmg  as  president,  it  was 
proposed  by  Mr.  Maula  of  Fanmure  {now 

tion  should  be  made  to  the  income  of  the 
poet's  iridow.      The  idea  appeared  ti 


irably  re 


it  the  su 


mdid 


ipidly,  Mr.  Maule  then  said  that 
tile  burden  of  the  provision  ahonld  fall  upon 
himsdf,  and  immeflialely  executed  a  bund, 
eiitithi^  Mrs.  Bums  to  an  annuity  of  £Wt 
as  long  as  she  lived.  This  act,  together 
with  the  generosity  of  the  same  genileman 
to  Naibaniel  Gow,  in  bis  latter  and  evil 
days,  must  erer  endenr  the  name  of  Lord 
Panraure  to  all  who  feel  warmly  on  the  sub- 
jects of  Scottish  poetry  and  Scottish  music, 

Mr.  Maule's  pension  had  not  been  en- 
joyed bv  cl: — ■' '^ " ' 

a  half,  t' 
tained  th 


d  the  ri 


er  yoiingesl 

.  of  Captau)  with  a  . 


IS  thus  enabled 
to  relieve  her  from  the  necessity  of  being 
beholden  to  a  sttangei's  hand  for  any  share 
of  hec  support  She  accordingly  r'signed 
the  pension.  Mr.  M'Diannid,  who  records 
these  cirLiunstances,  adds  in  another  place, 
that,  during  her  subsequent  years,  Mrs. 
Burns  Kijoyed  an  income  of  about  two 
hutidrel  a-year,  great  part  of  which,  as  not 
nceiicd  by  her,  she  dispensed  ii     '        ' 


Ho,t,db,  Google 


idKce  she  resiited.  She  iiei,  March  26, 
1834,  in  the  eSth  yen  of  h^  ^e,  Hud  whs 
hniif  d  beside  hri  illusttioDs  husband,  in  the 
nuusoleuiD  at  Dumfries,  {153) 

Mi.  Gilbert  Bums,  the  eaily  corapsnion 
and  at  all  timea  the  ateadfast  friend  of 
the  poet,  continued  to  stru^le  with  the 
miserable  glebe  of  Muaagiel  tUl  about  the 

C1T97,  vhen  he  removed  to  the  farm  of 
ting,  on  the  estate  of  Mr.  Monteith  of 
Closebuni,  in  Nitbsiiale.  The  poet  had  lent ! 
him  £200  ODt  of  the  profits  of  the  Edin-  ! 
burjrh  edition  of  his  works,  in  order  tliat  be 
iiiiicht  otercorae  some  of  his  difficulties ; 


In  personal  BSpeot,  Bobert  Bums  resembled 
liii  mother;  Gilbert  had  the  more  aqniUue 
features  of  his  father.  The  portrait  of 
Bobert  Burns,  punted  by  a  Mr.  Taylor, 
and  published  in  an  en^rraved  tbim  bv 
Messrs.  Constable  and  Compsi 
years  ago,  h 


and  Compmvr    a   few 
Btrihins;  resemhlanee  to 


:cellent 


I    died    I 


le  years 


isctfb 


a  Miss  Breekonridge,  by  whom  he  had 
ftmily  of  sii  sons  and  five  daughters 

conuderation  of  the  support  h '""■' 

his  widowed  mother,  the  poet  seems  never 
to  have  thought  of  a  irckoning  nith  him 
ibr  the  above  sum.  He  nas  ft  nun  of 
sterling  sense  and  sagacity,  pious  without 
■acelicism  or  bigotry,  and  enterfauiing 
liberal  and  enlighl«ied  views,  without  being 
the  least  of  an  enlbusiaat.  His  letter  to 
Dr.  Cunie,  dated  irom  Dinning,  October  24, 
1800,  shows  no  mean  powers  of  ooroposi- 
arly  all  the  plvikn- 


I  of  hun 


-uadly  realised 
day.  We  aie  seareely  mote  affected  by  the 
consideration  of  the  penury  under  which 
some  of  his  biother'a  noblest  compositioos 
were  penned,  than  by  the  tellection  that  this 
beautiful  letter  was  the  efi'usion  of  a  man 
who,  with  his  family,  daily  wrought  long 
and  laboriously    undu  all   those   circum. 


lI  hfe. 


■r,  Mr 


Gilbert   Bums    was    appointed    by    Lady 
Blantyre  to  he  land-ateward  or  ^ctor  upon 
her  estate  of  Lethington  in  East-Lothian, 
to  which  place   he   aoconlii^ly  removed. 
His  conduct  in  this  capacity,  during  near 
twenty-five  years,  was    marked    by  great 
fidelity  and  prudence,  and  gave  the  most 
pafect  salisfiiction  to  his  tilled  employer. 
It  waa  not  till  1820,  that  he  was  enabled  to 
i^Hiy  the  money  borrowed  trom  his  brother 
in  nSS      Being  then  invited  by  Mea; 
Cadell  and    Davies    to   superintend,    a 
improve  as  much  as  pos^le,  a  new  edit! 
of  the  poet's  works,  he  received  as  mii 
in  lemuneiatioD  of  his  labour,  as  enabled 
him  to  perform  this  act  of  duty, 

llie  mother  of  Bohert  and  Gilbert  Bums 
lived  in  the  household  of  the  hitter  at 
Grant's  Braes,  near  Lethington,  till  1820, 
vhen  she  died  at  the  age  of  ngbty-eight, 
and  was  buried  in  the  churchyard  of  Solton. 


Grant's  Brses,  November  8,  1827,  aged 
about  «jty-seven  vears.  His  sons,  hating 
rectnved  an  excdlent  education,  occupy 
ipectable  stations   in   sodety.     One  ii 


fectoT  to  Lord  i 


Lothian. 


ra  of  Bums,  one.  of  whom  is 
-ra.  Begg,  yet  survive.  Tl 
ne    village    of  Tranent,    £i 


^(irEniilD|irn!  Dritlirpitni  nf  Siraii. 

At  the  opening  of  the  Mausoleum,  Mardi 

was  resolved  by  some  ciliJcns  of  Diimfiies, 
with  the  concurrence  of  the  nearest  relative 
of  the  vcidow.  to  raise  the  cranium  of  the 
poet  from  the  grave,  and  have  a  cast 
moulded  from  it,  with  a  view  to  gratifying 
the  interest  likely  to  be  felt  by  the  studenU 
of  phreoolt^y  respecting  ils  peculiar  de- 
velopment. This  purpose  was  carried  into 
e^ect  during  the  night  hetn'ccn  the  Slat 
March  and  the  1st  April,  and  the  fOllowiug 
is  the  description  of  tlie  cranium,  drawn  up 

one  of  the  individuals  present ; — 

"  The  craniel  bones  were  perfect  in  every 
respect,  if  we  er.cept  a  httle  erosion  of  tlieir 
eitemid  table,  and  Ihmly  held  together  by 
their  sutures ;  even  the  delicate  hones  of 
the  orbits,  viith  the  trifling  esception  of  the 
(U  tmgaii  in  the  left,  were  sound,  and  un- 
injured by  death  and  the  grave.  Tha 
superior  maxillary  bones  still  retained  tiie 
four  most  posterior  teeth  on  each  side,  in- 
cluding   the    deutea    sapientise,    and    all 

cuspidati,  £c.,had,  ioallprobabiUty,  recently 

but  little  decayed.  Tho  bones  of  the  face 
and  palate  were  also  sound.     Some  small 

Krtions  of  black  hiur,  with  a  very  few  grey 
irs  intermixed,  were  observed  while  de- 
taching some  extraneous  matter  from  the 
occiput.  Indeed,  uothiug  could  exceed  the 
high  stal«  of  preservation  in  which  we  found 
the  bones  of  the  etanium,  or  offer  a  fairec 
opportunity  of  supplying  what  has  so  long 
been    deudetated    by    pliceuologisti  —  a 


Ho,t,db,  Google 


LIFE  OP  BOraS. 


accurate    and    satisfiictnr;    i 


n  the  IT 


at  foreigD  body,  wna 

applied  with  all  the  tact  and  accuracy  of  an 
eKpHienced  artist  llic  cast  ia  admLrablj 
taken,  and  cannot  M  to  prove  tagUy  in- 
teresting to  phrenologists  and  others. 

■ecurelf  enclosed  in  a  Icadeo  ease,  was  again 
eotoroilted  to  the  esrth,  precisely  where  we 

ArCHD.  BlulCKLOCK." 

A  cfist  firom  the  skull  having  been  trans- 
mitted   to    the    Fhreuologicai    Society    of 

bnd  deielopment  of  Burnt  was  drawi 
by  Mr  Geoi^e  Combe,  and  publisbei 
conncLtion  with  tour  views  of  the  crsi; 
(iV  ondA  K  Johmton,  Edinburgh)  :-^ 


Greatest  arcmnference ; 

Vtoia  Occipital  Spine  t«  Individuality, 

„  Ear  to  Ear  vertically  over  the  top 
ot  the  head : 

ahcy,  (^eatest  len^h)  .  .  ^ 
,  Conceiitratiieness  to  Comparison 
„  Ear  to  i*hi]ikprogenitivencst    .    , 


Ideality  to  Ideality 

Mastoid  process  to  Mastoid  Pro- 

1.  AniativeneBa,  rather  large  .  . 
2-  Pbilopn^nitivenesa,  very  large 
8.  Concentrativeness,  large  .  .  . 
4.  Adhesiveness,  very  large  .  . 
a.  Combativenets,  very  large     .    . 

6.  Destnictiveneis,  large     .    .    . 

7.  SBcniiveness,  targe      .... 

8.  Aeqoiritiveiios,  rather  large    . 

9.  ConatrucUveness,  foil       .    -    , 

10.  8elf-Esteem,  large      .... 

11.  Love  of  Approbation,  very  large 


13,  Benevolence,  very  large    , 


22.  Individuality,  large    .... 

23.  Form,  rather  lai^e 

24.  ^:e,  rather  large 

23.  Weight,  rather  large  .... 
28.  Colouring,  rather  large  .    ,    . 

27.  I.ocality,  large 

28.  Number,  railier  Ml    ...    , 

29.  Order,  foil 

30.  Eventuality,  laige      .... 

31.  Time,  raiher  large 

82.  Tune,  full 

33.  Language,  uncertain  -  ,  •  . 
34  CompFiriaon,  rather  large  .  , 
33.  Causality,  lar^e 

"  The  leale  of  tie  orsana  ifidicalt 
retatioe  proporfions  to  each  ofhen 
idMcg—lO  moderate— li  full— 18 
and  UO  eery  lari/e. 

"  Ibe  cast  of  a  skuH  does  not  shi 


:  biliou 


thedesc 


lUBceptibJlity;  and 
iptions  given  by  his  eonteinporariei 
111  1IU9  ucaming  and  energetic  eye,  and  tha 
rapidity  and  impetuosity  of  his  manifesta- 
tioiis,  establish  the  inference  that  his  brain 

"Size  in  the  brain,* other  conditions  being 
equal,  ia  the  measnre  of  mental  power.  I'ha 
skull  of  Bums  indicates  a  large  brain.  Tlie 
len^h  ia  eight,  and  the  greatest  breadth 
nearly  lii  inches.  The  drcuuference  is  22^ 
niches.  These  measurements  eiceed  the 
average  of  Scotch  living  heads,  mciudiaj  Ike 
inlci/iimenta,  for  which  four-nghiba  of  an 
uich  may  be  allowed. 

"  The  brain  of  Bums,  therefore,  possessed 
the  two  elements  of  power  and  activity. 

-"Hie  portions  of  the  brain  irliich  manifest 
the  aniuial  propenMtJea,  are  uncommonly 

energy  m  action  under  their  influence.  The 
group  of  organs  maniSaling  the  domestic 
alfections  (Ainativencss,  Philoprogenitive- 
'  '  "  '   ■   '  rge;  Philopro- 


e  orgar 


only  s 


1  of  C 


Hosted  by  Google 


heat  of  temper,  Impetieaee,  anil  liability  to 

"  Seccetiyenen  and  Caiitionsnens  are  both 
lage,  and  would  coofet  couaiderable  power 

"Aoqiiisiti  tineas,  Se!f-Esteein,  and  Love 
of  Approbation,  are  also  in  ajople  fill  liowment, 
sltbou^h  the  first  ia  leaa  than  the  other 
tvoi  these  feelinjis  give  the  love  of  pro- 
perty, a  high  consideration  of  self,  and  desire 
ot  the  esleeni  of  others.  Tlie  lirst  quality 
win  not  he  >o  readily  conceded  to  Burns  as 
the  aeeond  and  third,  which,  indeed,  irere 
much  Btronger ;  but  the  pbrenolo^st  records 
what  13  presented  b;  nature,  in  fall  conS- 
denee  that  the  manifestation),  when  the 
character  ia  correctly  understood,  will  be 
found  to  correspoTid  with  the  developement, 

eiderable  lova  of  propertj'. 

■'  The  Cleans  ot  the  moral  sentinients  are 
also  largely  developed.  Ideality,  Wonder, 
Imitation,  and  Benevolence,  are  the  larp;e3t 
m  aiEe.    Veneration  also  la  large.     Con- 


e  also  conaiderabla,  bnt  ies 
than  the  former.    Cansahty  is  laf^< 
Comparison,  and  'Wit  is  less  than  dtl 

"  The  slioll  iudicotes  the  ctoobina 
stron;;  aitimal  pasuons  with  equally  pi 
ni"r^  emotions.  If  the  natural  n 
hsd  Ijeen  less,  the  endownient  of  tl 
penairies  is  sumdent  to  have  constit 
clunacter  of  the  most  desperate  descnption. 
The  combination  as  it  exists,  luspeaks  a 
mind  eitrcmdy  Bubjeet  to  contending  emo- 
tions— capable  of  great  good,  or  great  eiil — 
and  encompassed  witii  vast  difficulties  in 
preserving  a  steady,  even,  onward  course  of 
practical  morality. 

"  In  the  combination  of  very  large  Philo- 
ttrogenitivenesa  aird  Adl^esiveoess,  with  very 
Urge  Benevolence  and  large  Ideahty,  we  lind 
the  dements  of  that  erquisite  leudemess 
and  reftnement,  which  Bums  so  frequently 
manifested,  eicii  when  at  the  worst  stage  of 
his  career.  In  the  comhinatioa  of  great 
Gombattveneaa,  Destructiveness,  and  ^If- 
Esteem,  we  find  the  fundamental  qualities 
which  inspired  '  Scots  *ha  hae  wi'  W^lace 
bled,'  and  similar  productions. 

"The  eombinatmn  of  large  Secretiveness, 
limtation,  aiid  the  perceptive  organs,  gives 

humour.  The  sVuU  indicates  a  decided 
talent  for  Humour,  but  leas  for  Wit.  The 
public  are  apt  to  coiitbuud  the  talents  for 


Wit  and  Hnmonr.  The  metaphyaiciBna, 
however,  have  dialiiiguiahed  them,  and  in 
the  phrenological  works  their  different  Ye- 
menis are  pointed  out.  Bums  possessed 
the  talent  for  satire ;  Destructiveness,  added 

"An  unshiKol  observer  loolLing  at  the  fore- 
head,  might  suppose  it  to  he  moderate  in 

rior  lobe,  in  both  length  and  breadth,  are 
'     Inielleclual  organs  will  be 


piised  to  have  been  1 


lohe  projects  so  much,  t „ ... 

pearauce    of  narrowness  to   the  forehead 

why  Benevolence  appears  to  lie  fiirlher  back 
than  usual.    An  anterior  lobe  of  this  magoi- 

combination  of  large  Perceptive  and  Ba- 
Occting  organs  (Causality  predominant),  with 
la^e  Concentrativeness  and  hi^  o^ans  at 
the  feelings,  gives  that  aagadly  and  vigorous 


Animal  l^opensities,  with  large  Cautions- 
nesB,  and  only  full  Hope,  together  with  tho 

placed,  accounts  for  the  melancholy  and 
internal  unhappiness  mth  which  Burns  was 
so  frequently  alHicled.  This  melancholy  waa 
rendered  still  deeper  by  had  health. 

"ITiecumbination  of  Acquisitiveness,  Cau- 
tiousness, Love  of  Approbation,  and  Con- 


.    s  the  s 
feelings  in  r^ard  to  pecu 

would  ^ve  him  strong  temptations 


idependenee. 


from  debt,  notwithsti 
his  salary. 

*' No  phrttiologist  I 


at  an  economical  cha- 
irn  that  he  died  free 
jdii^  the  smolbess  of 

in  look  upon  this  head. 


IS  fatal  to  indulge.    If  he  had  been  placed 


Ho,t,db,  Google 


LIFE  OP  EUENS. 


from  in&ncf  in  the  higher  ranks  of  UTe, 
liberally  eiliireted,  ond  employed  in  pncsuits 
corteBponiliiig  to  his  powerB,  the  iufetior 
portion  of  bis  Dutitrfl  vouid  linve  lost  pEirt 
of  its  eiieijry,  while  hia  better  qualities 
would  have  assumed  a  decided  and  per- 

A  mors  dnbornle  paper  on  the  Elnill  of 
ns  Appeared  in  the  Fbrenolo^eal  JoumaJ, 


NO.SL     ,    . 

Iliia  {[laitlemaJi  eiideavoi 


;n  of  Mr.  1 


3  show  that  the 


cripcioii,"  says 
Mr.  Coi,  "•'  he  «as  a  man  who  '  had  little 
Bit  in  making  money,  and  still  less  in  iLeep- 
ing  it.'  That  liis  art  in  making  money  was 
aulBciently  modemte,  there  can  be  no  doubt, 
for  ha  Has  engaged  in  occupaCiDns  »hich  his 
sDal  loathed,  and  thonglit  it  beloiv  his 
dignity  to  accept  of  pecuninrj  remnnetaUon 
for  some  of  his  most  laborious  literary  per- 
tormonces.  lie  waa,  however,  by  no  means 
insensible  to  the  value  of  money,  and  never 


is  only  rather  large.  During  bis  residence 
at  Moasgid,  wliece  his  revenue  was  not 
mote  than  £7,  his  expenses,  as  OilberC  men- 
tions, '  never  in  sny  one  year  exceeded  his 
slender  income.'  It  is  also  well  known  that 
he  did  not  leavs  behind  him  a  shilling  of 
debt  1  and  I  hiwe  learned  from  good  autho. 
tity  that  Ilia  household  was  much  more 
frugally  managed  at  Dumfries  tlma  at  Ellis- 
land — as  in  the  fbrmer  place,  but  not  in  the 
latter,  he  bad  it  in  his  power  to  exercise  a 
personal  control  over  the  expenditure.  1 
have  been  told  alao,  tliat,  after  his  death,  the 
domestic  expenses  were  greater  than  when 
he  was  alive.  These  ftcta  are  all  coiiMstent 
with  a  con»derable  development  of  AcqiiisU 
that  organ  ia  amaU,  thers 


ual  ii 


h  Bnrns 


■with  r 
onalljr  if 


vouE  of  alTecta- 


sel^  appears  therefore  ti 
tion — a  fading  into  which  he  was  not 
unf  requently  led  by  Love  of  Approbation  and 
Secretivcness.  Indeed,  in  one  ot  his  letters 
to  Miaa  Chalmers,  be  expressly  inamates  a 
wisbto'be  rich."  The  whole  of  this  essay 
is  highly  worthy  of  peruaid  by  all  who  take  an 
interest  in  tbe  cbaracler  of  the  Ayrstuce  bsrd. 


4 


Ho,t,db,  Google 


^Bftiml  Wmks  nf  %nkti  Mm. 


Ho,t,db,  Google 


Ho,t,db,  Google 


Ho,t,db,  Google 


POOR   MAILIE 


lie  gaped  wide,  bol  -juiatiMii;;'  ci])ak-: 
M  leogtj  Jiodf 'MaiiiL'   s.ilciici'  "beak- 


Ho,t,db,  Google 


Itttra's  %mIM  Wnth. 


ffljlE  SErift  unit  Siiing  ISmh  ul 


As  Mailie,  end  her  Iambs  thegither. 


■Upou  her  cloo 
And  owre  slie  warekd  in  (lie  ditch ; 
There,  groaning,  dying,  she  did  lie. 
When  Hughoc  he  cam  dojtin  hy. 
Wi'  glowering  een  and  lifted  han's. 

He  saw  her  days  were  near-haud  ended 
But,  iraes  jny  heaW  I  he  could  na  loeni 
He  gaped  wide  but  naething  apaJE — > 
At  lei4:th  poor  MedUe  silence  brak, 
"  Oh  thou,  whose  lamentable  face 


Appeal 


"Tell  him,  if  e'er  again  he  keep 
As  mackle  gear  oa  bay  a  aheep. 
Oh  bid  him  neset  tie  them  mair 
Wi'  wicked  sti'iiigs  o'  hemp  or  hair  1 
But  ea'  them  OM  to  pork  or  hill. 
And  let  them  wander  at  tkeir  will ; 

To  scores  o'  lambs,  and  packs  o'  woo'  I 

"Tell  him  ha  was  a  master  km', 
And  aye  was  guid  to  me  and  mine ; 
And  now  my  dying  charge  I  gie  hmi — ■ 
M;  helplesa  houba  I  truat  th«n  wi'  him, 


■Oh  bid  him 
.,ae  dogs,  and 
But  gie  them  gi 


re  therr  harmless  livea 
la,  aud  butchers'  knlvesl 
.  cow-milk  their  till. 


.So  wives  will  gie  them  bits  o'  bread. 
And  baima  greet  for  them  when  Ihey'ra  dead. 
"  My  poor  toop-Tamb,  my  aon  and  heir. 

Oh,  bid  hirn  ImyH  him  im  wi'  i-RH.  ■ 

And  if  he 


To  slay  cc 


Oude  keep  t 
Oh,  n-v  thr 
Wi'o 


hia  bicast  1 


lUBcleas,  graceles} 

t  my  yowie,  aillj  thing. 


erforg, 


erup 


ijutaye  keep  mind  to  moop  andmell 
Wi'  sheep  o'  credit  hke  thysel. 

"And  now,  my  bmnB,  wi'  my  last  breatli, 
I  lea'e  my  bleseia'  wi'  you  baith : 
And  when  you  think  upo'  youc  mithe^ 


Ho,t,db,  Google 


EURMS'S  POETICAL  WORKS. 
e«ehM,  dlnna  fail 


And,  for  thy  p^na,  tl" 


I's  get  my  bietlier. 


Tmrli>ine,  lament  in  prose. 
it  tears  trirkluis  down  your  ni 

Post  a'  lemead ; 


He's  tost  a  filcitd  an 

In  Maili 
Thro'  a'  the  toun  sh 
A  lang  half-mUe  she 
W  fciadly  bleat,  wh 

She  r«ii  HI-  speeu : 
A  friend  mair  faitbifu'  ne'er  cam  nigli  him 

Than  Mailie  dead. 
I  out  ahe  wos  a  sheep  o'  sense. 
And  could  behave  hersel'  wi'  mensei 


^}nld  de»: 


1  spy  hi 


gill'  Mail 


Or,  if ,  he  m 


Comes  bleating  to  him,  owre  the  know^ 

For  bits  0'  bread ; 
And  dawn  the  briny  pearls  rom 

She  vas  use  get  o'  moarljuid  tips. 


For  her  forbr 


Tou^ht  in  ships 


For  Mailie  dead. 
Oh,  a'  ye  hards  on  honnie  Coon 

Come,ioia,  Iha  mclancholious  a 
O'  Robin's  reed  I 

His  heart  will  never  get  abooii— 
UiaMailie'sdeadI 


Cpisltt  h  Sanit. 


Jsmnn,,  178*. 
[LE  ninds  frae  alf  Ben  Lomoud  blav, 
bar  the  doors  with  driving  snan. 
Lid  bin;;  U9  owre  tbe  in^le, 

spin  a  verse  or  twa  o'  rhyme, 

hmnely  westlin  jingle, 
le  frosty  winds  blaw  in  the  drif^ 
31  to  tlie  chimlft  lug, 
idge  ff  n'ee  the  great  folk's  gi&f 


low  best 
¥hile  cool 
And  ken 


andstan^ 


5,  lad,  ne'er  fash 
luo"  we  hae  little  genr, 
We're  fit  to  win  our  daily  bread, 
Aa  lan's  we're  hale  and  Ber : 
"  Jlair  spier  na,  no  fear  na"  (3)^ 


To  be  in  kilns  and  barns  a(  e'en 


:iie  honest  heart  that's  free  frae  a' 

Intended  fraud  or  guile, 
{owever  foKune  kick  tbe  ha'. 


Andmhid  atili.  you'll  find  still, 
A  comfort  this  nae  sma' ; 

Na  mair  then,  we'll  care  then, 
Nae  ferclier  we  can  fa'. 

What  though,  like  commoners  of  air. 

But  either  house  or  ha]'? 
Yet  natncG-s  charms,  tiie  hills  and  vood:^ 
The  stveeping  vales.  Bud  foaming  floods. 

Are  free  abke  to  all 
In  days  when  daisies  deck  the  gronnd. 

And  blackbirds  whistle  clear. 
With  liouest  joy  our  hearts  will  bound 

Ta  see  the  coming  year : 


Ho,t,db,  Google 


ADDEESS  TO  THE  DEIL. 


On  braes  when  ne  plea; 
Sjne  r!i>me  till't,  we'll 


Il'e  no  in  wealth  like  Lon'im  bu] 

To  pnrciiase  peace  and  test ; 
It^s  no  Id  mokiu'  muckle  amx ; 


Could  make  i 
Theli. 


Uappy  la 


rtaye 


aliat  makes 
Think  ye,  that  sic  as  you  and  i, 
Wlia  druilge  and  drive  through  wet  and  dry, 

Wi'  never-ceaaing  toil ; 
Think  ye,  aie  we  leas  blest  thnn  tl 
Wha  scarcely  tent  ns  ia  their  iraj 

As  hardly  worth  their  while  P 
"     '  '         ~  In  haughty  mood. 


God's  [ 


es  they  i 


Or  elae  ne^ectiug  a'  that's  guid, 

Buth  careless  and  fearless 
_0f  either  heaven  or  heli  I 
ig  and  deeming 


By  piuhig  at  our 
And,  ereu  should  in 
I,  hare  wliasit,  hiic 
An's  thaukfu'  for 
They  gie  the  wit  of 
Tliey  let  as  lea  o 
They  make  us  see  the  naked  troth. 
The  real  giiid  and  ill 
Thoairh  losses  and  crosses 
Be  lessons  right  severe. 
There's  wit  tliere,  ve'll  get  there. 
Yell  Imd  nae  other  ivTicte. 
But  tent  me,  Uaiie,  tee  o'  hearts ! 
(To  say  aught  less  wail  utiuig  the  cartes, 

Aiidflatt'ryldetesll 
ITiia  life  has  joys  tor  you  »nd  I ; 
And  jojs  that  rieliea  ue'ec  could  huyi 


Tlie  lover  and  the  Itien' ; 

Ya  hae  yoni  Meg  (5),  j-our  de 

And  I  my  darling  Jean  I 


,   Jl  ye  pow^  who  rule  abote  I 
OtThou,  whose  very  self  art  love  I 

The  life-blood  atreaming  thro'  my  hearli 
ly  more  dear  immortal  part, 
not  more  fondly  dear  I 
n  heart-corroding  care  and  gtief 

dear  idea  brings  relief 
id  solace  to  my  hieast. 
Thou  Being,  all-aeeing. 

Oh  hear  loy  ferreut  pniy^I 
Still  take  hor,  and  make  her 
Thy  most  peculiar  care  I 
All  hail,  ye  tender  feelings  dear  I 
'ITie  smile  of  lov^  the  friendly  teaz. 

'fhe  siinpathetic  glow  I 
Loni;  sinci^  this  world's  thorny  •xiija 
Had  nuuiher'd  ont  my  weary  days, 

__  d  it  not  been  for  you  I 
Pate  still  has  blest  ms  with  a  friou^ 
every  care  and  ill ; 
ift  a,  moie  cndeaiing  band. 


To  meet  with,  and  greet  with 
Uy  Uavie  or  my  Jean  i 
Oh,  how  that  nameinspu^s  my  style  I 
The  words  come  akelpin',  rank  and  Oe, 

The  ready  measure  nns  as  line 
iiEhus  and  the  iunous  Nino 
:re  giowrin'  owra  my  pea. 
My  apariet  I'cgasua  will  limn, 

'nilance  he's  fnirly  bet; 

And  tlien  he'll  hilch,  and  atUt,  and  jimS, 

And  rin  an  mica  £t : 

But  lest  then,  the  beast  then 

Should  rue  this  hasty  lida, 

M  light  now,  and  diitht  now, 

Uis  sweaty,  wizeji'd  bide. 


2!iiirt55  in  lljt  Snl  (6) 

dncc !  Oh  chief  of  many  throned  powers. 


It  heats  me,  it  beets  me. 


To  aMp  and  scaud  poor  dogs  Uke  neh 


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IM 


Great  is  (by  povV,  and  great  th;  fame ; 
PatliBn'il  and  noted  is  thy  nsme ; 
Aod  tho'  yon  lon-in'  houtjh'a  thy  hame. 

Thou  Bnvels  fiir ; 
And,  Mth !  thou's  neither  lag  nor  tame. 


BURNS'S  POETICAL  WORKS. 
The  bleeain',  eurat. 


a  roaring  lion, 
mniera  tryia' ; 
-wing'd  tempest  flyin', 


Whyles,  ranging  ]ii 

Whyles  on  the  stro 
IWin'  1 

Whyks,  in  tlie  hiui 
Unaeen 

Pre  heard  my  re?er 


Te  IVigM  the  nightly  wand'rer'a  vay 

Wi'  eldritch  croon. 
When  twilight  did  my  granny  Eiimmnn, 
To  Bay  her  prayers,  doute  hone«  womo 
Aft  yont  the  dyke  she's  heard  you  bum. 


or  eat  yout  i 
Or,  strange 
Tlve  youngest  brother 


Wi'  heavy  groan. 

Aedcea 

ry,  wiody,  win 

et  night, 

niicsla 

s  shot  down  wi 

akientin'  ^h 

Wj'you 

mysel,  I  gat  a 
Ayonr  clie 

fright 

TB,like 

s  rasli-biish.  st 

od  in  sight 

Wi- waring 

aongh. 

Theentl"e!inmyiiieTe 

did  shake. 

Eachbr 

Ml'dh^t  stood  like  a  stake. 

Whcaw 

'ane]driu:h,sc 

Anuinf:  the 

apnnKS, 

Away« 

aqnatter'd,  like 

a  drake. 

On  whistling  ni 
Let  warlocks  grim,  and  wither'd  hags, 
Tell  how  wi'  you,  on  ragweed  nags. 
They  akim  the  muiis  and  diaey  crags, 
Wi  vicked  speed ; 
m  ^k-yards  miew  thdr  leagaea 


Afet 


ughttaheUI 


in  Eden 


.  the  soul  of  love  they  shar-il, 
The  raplur'd  hour, 

in  the  fra^ant  flow'ry  sward, 
Insliadybow'r(7)j 

Then  you,  ye  anld  anec-drawing  dogl 
Ye  came  to  Pataiiise  incog, 
A  nd  played  on  man  a  cursed  bri^nie^ 
(Blackbeyonrfal) 
■A  the  infant  "arid  a  ahog, 

Ind  that  day,  when  in  a  bit^ 


And  sklented  on  the  m 


r  spiiefn'  joke  ? 
le  gat  him  i'  yont  thrall. 


OwreUi: 


Wad  dit^  a  lallan  toi^iie 


Thencs  conntra  wives,  wi'  toil  and  pain. 
May  plunge  and  plnnge  the  kim  in  yain ; 
Pot,  oh  1  the  yellow  treasure's  taeo 

By  witching  skill ; 
And  dawCit,  twal-pint  hawkie's  gaen 

As  yell's  the  bilL 

When  thowea  dissolte  the  sniwy  hooonJ, 
And  float  the  jiiiglm'  icy  hoord, 
TWn  wBlet  kelpies  haunt  the  foord. 


old  Cloots,  I  ken  ye'ie  fliinkin' 
inlie'a  rantin',  driiikin', 
'ss  hour  will  eend  him  Linkin* 
To  your  black  pit ; 


Ho,t,db,  Google 


NEW-YEAE  JIOEKIXG  SALUTATION. 
it  brouaea  thon  hs 


€\\t  Snlii  ^Brtnrc's  3Ira-f  far  ffinrning 
lalntriiDU  to  jiis  Sullr  JHntE  Mu'^, 


A  ouiD  New.year  I  wiah  thee,  Maggie  1 
Hae,  tlieie's  a  ripp  to  thy  add  baggie ; 
Tho'  thou's  ho*e-backit,  now,  and  knag^, 

IVe  aeea  the  day 
Iboa  could  hae  gaen  like  ouie  ataggie 

Out-oiiTe  the  lay. 
Tho'  now  thou'a  dowie,  stilf,  and  fraiy. 
And  thy  aidd  hide's  as  white's  a  daiaj^, 
I've  seen  thee  dappl't,  alcek,  and  glaizie. 

He  iliDnld  heen  tight  that  daur't  to  raise  thet 

Ance  in  a  day. 
Thou  ance  was  i'  the  foremost  rani, 
A  filly,  buinlly,  steete,  and  swank. 
And  set  wed  down  a  shapely  shank 

As  e'et  ttead  yird ; 


a-and-tweiity  year, 
Eiiid-fiuher'a  mere ; 
o'  toeliet  dear 


And  fifty  nil 
Qa',  t»a 


Wlien  first  I  gaed  to  woo  my  Jennv, 
Ye  then  vaa  troltiu'  k  i'  j  out  loiniiiei 
Vba'  JB  was  tnckie,  slee,  and  fiuiiue, 

Bnt  hamely,  tawiE^  quiet,  and  caunii^ 

That  day  ye  pranc'd  wi'  muctle  pride, 
When  ye  hure  liame  my  bonny  bnd=! 
And  sweet  and  gracefu'  she  ilid  ride, 

Wi'  maiden  air  < 
Kyle  Stewart  I  could  bragged  wid^ 

For  sic  a  pair. 
Tho'  now  ye  dow  but  hoyte  and  hoble. 
And  wintle  Uke  a  saiununt-cuhle, 
'Ihst  day  ye  was  a  jij 

Po?  heels 
Audi 


d'  heels  and  nin' 


Far.tacb! 


Ifllieigh, 


fellow 
pay't  them  hollow, 


Tor  pith  and  speed ; 


he  BBia'  droop-mrapl't,  hunter,  cattle, 
light  aibhua  waur't  thee  for  a  brattle ; 
■ut  sm  Scotch  miles  thou  try't  their  mettle, 

fac  whip  noF  spur,  hut  just  a  wattle 


Aft  thee  ami  I, 
Hnetui 


lucht  hi 


m! 


lonrs  gamv 
guid  March  weather, 
sBi  rood  beside  our  baa' 
For  daya  thegither. 
braindg't,  and  feeh't,  andjiskit 


And  spread  abtccd  thy  well-WU'd  br 

Wi'  pith  andpow'r, 
Till  apritty  tnowea  wad  rair't  and  ri 

When  frosts  ky  lang.  and  snavs  n 
And  tli-"'ten'd  labour  back  to  keep 
1  gied  1  liy  c  ^  a  wee-bit  hCLi^ 

I  ken'd  my  Maggie  u-ad  na  sleep 


skit. 


Jncai 
'ilies 
Thou  never  lap,  ^ndeten'tjaud  breaad^ 

But  just  thy  step  a  wee  thing  Ijaatit, 

Thou  anoov't  awa. 
My  plengh  is  now  Ihy  hair 

PourgaV     -'     ■- 

Forbje  ( 


le  fac't  it 


I  e'er  did  drawj 


Thev 


L  we  tua  hae  Brought, 

ious  day  i  thought 

ig«  we're  brought, 

methiug  yet. 

auld  trusty  serran'. 


Idid  by  for  you. 
We've  worn  to  crazy  yeara  thither] 
We'll  toyle  about  wi'  ane  anither; 
Wi'  lentie  care  I'll  flit  thy  tether. 


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EUESS'S  POETICAL  'WOEKS. 


M&lUmm.  (8) 

Upon  that  night,  when  fairies  light. 

On  Cassihs  Downans  (»)  dance, 
Or  awie  the  laja,  in  splendid  blaze, 

On  (pr^Jill)'  couisiers  prance  j 
Or  foe  Coleon  the  route  is  ta'en, 

Beneath  the  moon's  pale  heams ; 
There,  up  the  cove  (10),  to  stray  and  m 

Aniang  the  rocks  and  streams 


Toap 

Amang  the  honny,  v 

Where  Doob  tins, 

Where  Bruce  (11) 

And  shook  his  Cai 


nding  banks, 
vimplin',  clear, 
ince  rul'd  the  martial 


Ti^etlier 


ra  folks, 
its,  aiid  pou  thsr  stocks. 


Tobi 
And  hand  their  i 

Fu'  blj-the  that  night. 
The  laseea  feat,  and  cleanly  neat, 
Mail  braw  than  nheu  they're  fine; 
beic  faces  biytbe,  fij'  3iveecly  kytbe. 
Hearts  leal,  aud  waon,  and  kin' : 
The  lads  sae  triz,  wi'  nuoer-babs, 
Weel  knotted  ou  their  gurlea, 
Some  Bnco  blale,  and  some  wi'  gab^ 
Gar  lasses'  iiearts  gang  slarliii' 
St  night, 
thro'  the  kail, 
ilieir  stocks  (i:!)mauna' besought  ano 
They  steek  tlieh'  een,  and  graip,  and  wal^ 

Pocmuekie  lines  and  attaughi  anea. 
Poor  hartel  Will  fell  alt  ih;  drift, 
Ajid  wandet'd  thro"  the  bow-tail, 

Sae  bow'C  that  night. 
Then,  straugbt  or  crooked,  yird  or  nane, 

Tiiey  roar  and  cry  a'  tbron'cheir; 
The  vera  icee-thuigs,  todhn',  rin 

Wi'  Mocks  out^owre  their  shoulher : 

Wi'  joctelegs  they  taals  theni ;  ' 
Syne  coilely,  aboou  the  door, 

W?  cauHie  cate,  they're  placed  them 
To  lie  tliat  night. 
The  lasses  straw  frae  'mang  them  a' 

To  pou  their  stalks  o'  com  (13) ; 
But  Hab  slips  ont,  and  jinks  about, 

Behint  the  mnckle  thorn ; 
He  giippet  Nelly  hard  and  ^t ; 

Loud  akirl'd  a'  the  lasses  i 
But  her  tap-pickle  maist  was  lost, 

WlieD  kuitthu'  in  the  fiiuB&honae  (H) 
Wi'  him  that  night. 


The  auld  guidtvife's  wcel-hoordet  nits 
Are  round  and  round  divided. 

And  many  lads'  and  lasses'  fates 
Are  there  that  night  dedded : 

Some  kindle,  conthie,  side  by  side. 
And  burn  Iheglilier  trimly ; 

Some  start  awa  wi'  saucy  pride, 


Wha  'twas,  slie  wadna  tc 
But  this  is  Jock,  and  tiih  h 

He  blees'd  owte  her,  and  sh 


And  llnry,  uae  doubt,  took  the  dmnt, 

To  be  compared  to  1^  illie. 
Mall's  nit  lap  out  wi'  prulefu'  fiing. 


To  be  that  night. 

She  pits  hcrsel  and  Kob  in ; 
n  loving  hieese  they  sweetly  join. 

Till  wliit«  in  ase  they're  sobbin'. 
Cell's  benrt  was  dancin'  at  the  viev. 

She  whisper'd  Kob  to  leuk  fbc't : 


Fu'cc 


a'dhi 


iifbr't. 


She  ka'es  them  gashin'  a 

And  shps  ouE  by  lierae 

She  through  the  yard  thi 


But  wliether  'twas  fa 


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HALLOWEEN. 


Bhe  tafCi  her  pipe  wi'  gi 


"Ye  iittle  skelpie-liramer'a  fkcs  I 

I  daur  you  try  sic  sportai'. 
As  seek  the  foul  thief  onie  place, 


a  ane  hns  gotten  a  fnght, 


Ttasagilp 

ey,  then  I'm  sure 

IwasV 

pa=t  tjftee 

taut  been 

a'uld  and  WD 

And  atuifwaa  unco' 

And  aye  ft 

i-egat. 

And  just 

on  Hdlowc 

It  tea  that 

night. 

OnrMibble 

rig^sRa 

I.  M'Graon, 

He  loafd  a  horrid  mntder-sbanl^ 
In  drea^*  desperation ! 
id  young  Bnd  Buld  cam  rinnin'  out, 
Andhcur  Che  sad  narratiuo  : 


teer  tJiat  night  i 
:o  tiie  ham  hae  gsen, 
:  wectits  o'  naething  (19)  [ 
But  tax  to  meet  the  deil  her  lan^ 
Lt  cut  little  &iib  in: 
tlie  herd  a  pickle  uit^ 
n-a  red-cheeliit  apples, 
I,  while  for  the  barn  she  sets, 
lea  to  see  Tam  Kippies 
That  vera  ii^ht. 
She  turns  tlie  key  wi'  cannie  Ihraw, 
And  owre  the  threshold  ventonj 

Syne  bauldly  ui  she  enters : 
A  ration  rattled  up  the  «u'. 


A  clever,  sturdy  fcllow 
lle^a  sin'  gat  Eppie  Sim  w*  weoi^ 

niat  lived  in  Achnincalla : 
He  gat  hemp-seed  (18).!  mind  it  ti 

Batm 


Andra; 


day  was  by  himsoF, 
-tairiyft 


That  very  night." 
Then  up  gat  fcchtin'  Jamie  Fleck, 

That  lie  could  sow  hemp-seed  a  peck ; 

for  it  was  a'  but  nonsense. 
The  auld  guidiiiau  riught  down  the  poi 

And  out  a  liaudfu'  gied  him ; 
Syne  bade  him  slip  trae  'mang  the  fo!l^ 


He  marches  through  amang  the  stads, 

Tho'liewassotuethingsCurtini 
TTie  graip  he  for  a  harrow  Inks, 


Come  after  me.  and  draw  thee 
As  Cast  tliis  night." 
He  whistl'd  up  Lord  Leonox'  march 

To  keep  his  courage  cheery  ; 
Altho*  his  hair  hegau  to  arch. 

Me  was  sae  Aey'd  and  eerie  : 
■Kll  preseiiUy  he  hem  a  squeak. 

He  by  his  siioutlier  gae  a  keek, 

Ont-owre  that  night. 


ay^d  with  zeal  ai 
Fu'  fast  that  n^ht. 
They  hoy-t  out  Will,  Tvi'  sair  adviee ; 

They  hechc  bun  some  flue  braw  ane  j 
Itchanc'd  the  stack  he  faddom't  thrice  (3( 

Was  tinimer-propt  foe  thrawin'; 
He  taks  a  surly  auld  moss  oak 

For  some  black,  grousoms  carlin ; 
And  loot  a  winse,  and  drew  it  stroke, 
Tillskm  in  hiypes  cam  haurlui' 
AfTs  nicves  that  night. 

But.ochI  that  ni;^hC,amBngtlieeha<rs, 

She  got  ■  fiiarin'  setllin' ! 
She  thro'  the  whins,  and  by  the  caim, 
id  owre  the  hill  gaed  scrieviii, 
re  three  lairds'  hinds  met  at  a  bum  (SI 
dip  her  left  satk-skeve  in. 
Was  bent  ihst  night. 
Whyles  owre  a  linn  the  bnmie  pl^fi, 
As  througli  the  glen  it  whimpl't; 
Whyles  rouud  a  rocky  scaur  it  strays  j 

Whyles  in  a  niel  it  dimpl't ; 
Whyles  glitler'd  lo  the  nightly  tajs, 

Wi'  bickering,  dancing  dassle ; 
Whyles  coojit  underneath  (he  braaa, 
^  '        '  s  spreading  lu 


Una 


angthel 


night 


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i  POETICAL  WOEKS. 


Poor  Leezy's  lieart  maist  Up  the  liool  i 

Whare  wdt  thou  cow'r  thy  chitteriug 

Near  toy-rock  height  she  jumpit. 

Butmi«.fit.»nflmtbepool 

And  close  thy  e'e? 

OatrOWK  Che  lu^a  slie  plumpit, 

Ei-'n  you  on  raurd'ring  errands  toiFd, 

\\T>  plunge  that  night 

hoae  from  your  savage  hoiuea  esil'd. 

The  biood-stain'd  rooat  and  sheej^ot 

The  luggies  three  (32)  are  ranged. 

«poil'd 

And  eveiT  time  great  care  is  ta'eB, 

Wy  heart  forgets. 

To  Bee  them  duiy  changed: 

While  pitiless  the  tempest  wild 

ADld  uncle  John,  wM  wedlock'i  joys 

Sore  on  you  beats. 

Sin-  Mara'  year  did  deaire. 

Now  Phcche,  in  her  midnight  reign. 

Beouse  he  i!at  the  toom-dish  thrie^ 

Dark  mumed,  vieir'd  the  dreary  ptoin ; 

Heheiv'dthenionthefire 

Still  crowdin":  thoughts,  a  penaive  train. 

Wi'  merry  lauffs,  aad  friendly  etacki. 

When  on  my  ear  thirpMrti™  alrmn 

And  unco  tales,  and  fnnny  jokes, 

"  Blow,  blow,  ye  wmds,  with  heavier  gust ! 

Tlieir  aporta  were  cheap  and  cheery ; 

And  treeae,  thou  bitter-biting  frost  > 

•m  bulter'd  so-ns  (23),  wi'  fragraut  lunt, 

Descend  ye  chilly,  smothering  snows ! 

Seta'theirgabaa-steetin'; 

Not  all  yo-jr  ra^,  as  now  united,  shows 

Sjne,  wi'  a  social  glass  o'  sirmi^ 

Theypariedaffcflteerin' 

Fu'  hlyllie  that  night.  (24) 

Than  heaven-illummed  mau  on  brotlier  man 

See  stem  oppression's  iron  grip. 

Or  mad  ambicion's  gory  hand. 

a  XVhht  Slight. 

Sending,  like  hlood-hounds  from  the  slip 
Woe,  want,  and  murder  o'er  a  land  1 

Poor  nalted  wretches,  whereaoc'er  ynn  are. 

E'en  ill  tlie  peaceful  rural  vale. 

aides,                                         [dQfena  you 
Your   looped    and    irindowed    ruRjieclness, 

Truth,  weeping,  teUs  the  mournful  tale. 

How  pamper'd  Luiiiry,  Flattery  by  her  aidt^ 

The  parasite  enipoisonmg  her  ear. 

With  all  the  servile  wtetthes  in  the  rear. 

When  biting  Boreas,  fell  wid  doute, 

Looks  o'er  proud  property,  estendcd  wida; 
And  eyes  the  simple  rustic  hind. 

WhS  Vhffibns  ^s  ashoft-uTed  gTow'-r 

Whose  Cod    upholds  the  glittering 

Far  south  U.e  lift. 

A  creaturJ  of  another  kind. 
Some  coarser  substance,  nnreHned, 

Dlm-dukeniiig  thra'  the  flaky  Bhow'r, 

Or  nliitling drift; 

Placed  for  lier    lordly  use  thus  far,  thus 

Ae  niiht  the  storm  the  steeples  rocked. 

vile  below. 

Poor  labour  si^c  m  sleep  ivss  locked. 

Where,  where  is  Love's  fond,  tender  throti 

■While  burns,  wi'  Bua»y  wreaths   up. 

With  lordly  Honour'a  lofty  brow. 

choked. 

The  powers  jou  proudly  mm  f 

WUd  eddying  swirl, 

Is  there  beneath  Ijjve's  noble  nam^ 

Ot  thro-  the  mining  outlet  hocked. 

Can  harbour  dark  the  sellish  aim. 

Do"o  headlong  burl 

To  bless  himself  alone! 

Ijalening,    the    doors    and    wmnocka 

rattle, 
I  thoiight  me  on  the  onrie  cattle. 
Or  uUy  sheep,  nba  bide  this  brattle 

O-  winter  »ar,       [sprattle, 
And    through  the  drift,   deep-liuring 

Beneath  a  scaur. 

Mark  nmden  innocence  a  prey 

To  love-pretenJing  snares, 
Tliis  hoasled  Honour  turns  away, 
Shnnnmg  soft  Pity's  rising  sway,      [erst 

Perhaps  this  hour  in  misery's  squalid  neat, 

She  strains  yoiu  infanc  to  her  joyless 

breast,                             [rocking  blast! 

Bk  happing  bird,  wee,  lielpless  thing. 

And  with  a  mother's  fears  shrinks  «  the 

Tliat  in  the  merry  months  o'  apring. 

Ohyei  who,  sunk  in  beds  of  do.vn. 

Dehghled  me  to  hear  thee  sins. 

Feel  not   n  want   but  what  yourselves 

Ho,t,db,  Google 


EPISTLE  TO  J. 

Think  lot  a  moment  on  hia  wretched  fate. 
Whom  frienda  and  forCuue  quite  disown ! 

m  BstiBfied  keen  nature's  clamoioui  call. 

Stretched  on  hia  >Iiav  he  lays  himself 

to  sleep,  [wsll, 

While  through  the  ra^^d  roof  and  cLinky 
Chill  o'er  hia  slumbers  pies  the  drift; 


dungeoi 


4infini 


Guilt,  erring  man,  relenting  view  1 
Bnt  ahall  thy  legal  rage  puraue 
The  Hretch,  alr^dy  crushed  loir 
By  cruel  fortune's  undeserved  bloB"? 
AMicCion'a  sous  are  brothera  in  distreas ; 
A  hrather  to  relieve,  how  eiqnisits  the 
bhssl" 
I  hear  nae  mair,  for  chanticleer 
Shook  off  the  poutlieray  snaw. 
And  hailed  the  moroingffiih  a  chee — 


But  deep    thia  tnuh    impre 
l^nongh  all  hia  varka  nhttK 


Cliistlj  in  I.  Tipraiit. 


April  1, 1785. 
While  briers  andvoodhines  hudding  green, 
And  paitricka  acraichin'  loud  at  e'en. 
And  momnig  poussie  whiddia  acen, 

Thia  fteedom  in  an  nuknown  trien' 

On  fasten-e'en  n'a  had  a  rockin'. 

To  ca'  the  crack  and  weave  our  stoctia'  j 

And  there  waa  muckle  fun  and  jokin'. 

Ye  need  na'  doubt ; 
At  length  we  had  a  hearty  yokhi' 

At  aaug  about. 
There  was  oe  san^,  amang  the  rest, 
Aboon  them  a'  it  pleas'd  me  best. 
That  same  kind  husband  had  sddreat 


Itth 


Tost 


to  the  lit 


;s  thro'  tlie  bteast. 


I've  scarce  heard  ought  described  sae  wee 
What  gen'rous  manly  bosoms  feel ; 
niought  I, "  Can  thia  be  Pope,  or  Steele, 

OrBeattie'awark?" 
They  lauld  me  'twas  an  odd  kind  chiel 

About  MuirkirL 
It  pat  me  fidgin.faui  to  hear't. 
And  ue  about  him  there  I  3piei% 


LAPRAIK. 

Then  a'  that  ken't  bim  round  decWd 
He  had  ioguie, 
Mcell'd  It,  tew  cam  neatMi 


I:  of  ale, 


Ilwi 
That,  set  him  to 
And  either  douce  or  merry  t^. 
Or  tbymea  and  sajigs  he'd  made  hiniseF, 

Tween  Inverneaa  and  Teviotdale, 
He  had  a  few  matches. 

Then  up  I  gat,  and  swoor  an  flith. 

The'  I  should  pawn  ray  pleugh  and  graitfa. 

Or  die  a  cadger  pownie's  death 
At  some  dyke  back 

A  pmt  and  Rill  I'd  gie  them  baith 


IW  rude  and  rough. 
Yet  crooning  to  a  body's  aell. 
Does  weel  eneugh. 

But  juata  rhyraer,  like  by  chsnee. 
And  iiae  to  learning  nae  pretence. 

Yet,  what  the  matter ! 
Whene'et  my  muse  doea  on  ms  gbncC^ 

I  jingle  at  her. 
Your  critic  folk  may  cock  their  nose. 

You,  wlu  ken  hardly  verse  frae  pros^ 
To  mak  a  sang?" 

Bn^  by  your  leaves,  my  learned  foeii 
Ye're  may  be  wrai^. 


■  dint  0'  Greek  1 
k  o'  nature's  fire  I 
■arnlngldeairej 


Oh  for  a  spunk  o"  Allan's  glee. 
Or  Fergasson'a  the  bauld  and  slee, 
Or  bright  Lapraik'a,  my  ftieud  to  bl^ 


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BURNS'S  POETICAL  'WOEKS. 


Now,  Ht,  if  ye  lue  friends  enow, 
Tho'  red  friends  I  believe  are  few 
Yet,  if  your  catalogue  be  foa, 


I  should  be  prmid  to  meet  y< 

We'se  gic  ae  night's  dischurg 

If  we  forgather, 


The  four-^U  cliap,  we'se  gar  him  datter. 
And  iiirsen  him  wi'  reekin'  water ; 
Sjne  we'll  sit  down  and  tak  our  whittcr. 

To  cheer  our  heart; 
And,  &ith,  we'se  be  aoquaioted  better 

Before  we  part, 
Awa  ye  selfish  war'ly  race, 
Whs.  tbinii  that  haiins,  sense,  and  gniee 
Si'n  loie  &ni  friendship,  should  give  pli 


■Who  bold  your  being  on  tire  terms, 
'■Each  aid  the  others." 

Come  to  my  bowl,  eome  to  my  arms. 
My  friends,  my  brothers ! 


ir  friend  and  aetvaul. 


ta  IJR  $mt. 

Aitril2 
While  oew-ca'd  Iq'e  rowte  at  the 
And  pownies  reek  in  pleiigh  or  hri 
Thia  hour  on  e'euiu'a  edge  I  take. 

To  own  I'm  debtor, 
TohancBt-hearted,autd  Idprail^ 

Fotjesket  sait,  wi'  weary  legs, 

Or  dealing  Ibro'  tunang  the  naigs 


Quo'  she. 

This  month  and  mair, 
That  trouth,  my  head  is  growti  rig 

And  something  siur," 
Her  dowff  excuses  pat  me  mad : 
I'll  write,  and  that  a  hearty  bl 


This' 


night; 


Ruosi 


la  ye  affront  your  traii^ 

But  rhyme  it  riglit. 

auld  Lflpraik,  the  king  o'  1 

you  sue  weel  for  y — 


Yet  ye'll  neglect  to  shaw  your  parts. 
And  thank  him  kindly?" 

And  down  gaed  stumpie  in  the  mk: 
Ouoth  I,  "  before  I  sleep  a  wink, 

I  vow  111  close  it ; 
And  if  ye  wiuua  mak  it  clink. 

By  Jove  ni  prose  it ! " 
Sae  I've  begun  to  serawl,  hut  whether 
In  rhyme,  or  prose,  or  baith  the»ither. 
Or  some  hotch-potch  that's  rightly  neither. 

Let  time  mak  proof; 
But  I  shall  BCiibble  down  aome  blethec 

Juat  clean  aS'loof 
My  worthy  friend,  ne'er  grudge  and  raift 


She's] 


idfle& 


Sin'  I  could  striddle  owr 

But,  by  the  L — d,  iho'I  should  beg 

Wi'  lyart  pow, 
111  laugh,  Bud  EiLg,  and  shake  my  leg, 

As  lang'a  I  dow ! 
Now  comea  tlie  saK  and  twentieth  simme 
I've  seen  the  biid  upo'  the  timmer. 
Still  persecuted  by  the  limmer 

Frae  year  to  year; 
But  yet,  despite  the  kittle  kimmer, 

I,  Rob,  am  here. 

Bchint  a  kist  to  lie  and  sklent. 

Or  purse-proud,  b^  wi'  cent,  per  cent. 


Ho,t,db,  Google 


TO  ■WILLIAM  SpMPSON], 

Ot  ist  the  paiighty,  feudal  Thane, 
Wi'  niffl'd  sark  and  gkncing  laiie. 
Vita,  thinks  hioisel  na«  sheep-shauk  bane, 


Wiule  caps  and  honueta  alf  are  taen, 

Aa  by  he  walks  ? 
Oh  Thou  nhs  gies  ua  each  guid  gift  I 
Gie  me  o'  wit  and  $en3e  a  hft, 
Then  turn  me,  if  Thou  please,  adrift. 

Thro'  Scotland  wide; 
VTi'  dta  nor  lairds  I  wadiia  shift, 

In  a'  (heir  pride ! 
Were  this  the  chiu-ter  of  onratatCi 

i'  o'  hell  be  rich  and  great," 


■     :o  Ilea- 


would  bf 


We  learn  our  creed. 
For  thns  the  roysl  mandate  ran. 
When  fint  the  human  race  began, 
"  The  tocial,  friendly,  honest  ma^, 

Whate'er  he  be, 
11b  he  fuMla  great  Nature's  plan. 

Oh  mandate  glorioua  and  divine  I 
The  followers  o"  the  taj:ged  Nine. 
Pom  thougluless  devils  yet  may  shine 


While  noidid  sons  o'  Mauimon'slii 
Are  darli  as  night. 

Tho'  here  they  scrape,  and  aqueeie, 
Thar  worthless  oievfu'  of  a  soul 
May  in  aome  future  carcase  ho.1. 

The  foresfi  fright; 
Orin>ameday.deteatingo»'l 

in  Die  light. 
Then  may  Lapraik  and  Bums  aris^ 
To  reach  their  natire  kindred  skies. 
And  sing  their  pleasures,  hopes,  and  Joys, 

In  some  nidd  sphere, 
sen  doaet  tuit  in  friendship's  ties 

Each  pasamg  year ! 


Ell  ffiillLira  ^[impsiin], 


M«y,  17S; 
I  OAT  ycnr  letter,  winsome  Wdlie ; 
Wi'  gratefu'  heart  I  thank  you  brawlie ; 
Tho'  I  mauD  aay't,  I  wad  he  aUly, 


But  Tie  believe  ye  kindly  meuit  il^ 
laud  be  lalth  to  think  ye  hinted 
Ironic  laiue.  sidelina  sklented 


On  my  poor  Musie; 
Tho"  in  aic  phraisin'  terms  ye've  penii 

I  scarcely  escuae  ye. 
My  senses  nad  be  in  a  creel, 
Should  1  but  dare  a  hope  4a  speel, 
"'-•  '" GdbertBeld, 


{Oh 


!s,rs. 


The  braes  o' feme; 
er  chiel, 


!  thy  gloriouB  parts 


le  hearta, 
_  .jrugh  gentry; 
The  tythe  o'  what  ye  waste  at  cartes 
iw'd  his  pantry  1) 
Yet  Bhen  a  tale  comes  i'  my  head, 
h  lassies  gie  my  heart  a  screed, 
"■       hey-re  like  to  ■  '     ' 


I  kittle  Uf 


(Obsa 


nha  their 
But 

■na  echoes  a'  res 
Her 
t  Iboiig) 


To'^Jt' 


sel) 


■d  style. 


ime  unlceu'd-of-iale 
eside  Kew  Holland, 
Ot  whaie  wUd-meetiag  oceans  bdl 
BesDuth  Magellan. 
/  and  famnua  Fergusson 
Gied  Forth  and  Tay  a  lift  aboon 
Yarrow  and  Tweed,  to  monie  a  tun^ 

Ou-re  Scothmd  riaga, 
Whila  Irwin,  Lugar.  Ayr,  and  ViKm, 

"aebody  sings. 
Th'  ItUssus.  Tiber,  Thames,  and  Sein^ 
Glide  sweet  in  monie  a  tuuefu'  line; 
1,  Willie,  set  your  fit  to  rnifl^ 
And  cock  yoatcrest, 
ell  gar  our  streams  and  burnies  shine 

Up  wi' thebestl 
?'tl  sing  anld  Coils's  plains  and  fells, 
r  moots  red-brown  wi'  heather  hells, 
T  banks  and  braes,  her  dens  and  delll. 
Where  glorious  Wallace 
Aft  bure  the  gree,  as  story  tell, 
■^  Be  southron  billies, 
me  what  Scottish  blood 
I  spring-tide  flood  I 
Oft  have  our  fearless  fathers  strode 

By  Wallace  side. 
Still  pressing  onward,  red.wat  shod. 
Or  gtorioua  diedl 


Ho,t,db,  Google 


Oh  nreet  »re  Coila'a  liaiiKha  and  -a'coda, 
When  hutwhil«achatit  amang  the  hods. 
And  jmluA'  harea,  in  amoroua  whid^ 

ITieJt  lovea  enjoy, 
Wbil«  tiai>'  the  braes  the  cruahat  croods 


When  winds  rave  thro'  the  naked  tri 
Are  hoary  gray : 


BUENS'S  POETICAL  TV'OEliS. 
Tn  thne  aiiM  times. 


Oi:  blinding  drifts  \ 


L'uiitg  the  day  ! 
Oh  nature !  a'  thy  shows  and  form 
To  feeUng,  pensive  hearts  hae  diari 
Whether  the  Eommer  kuidly  waim 

Wi'  life  and  lijht. 
Or  wiiitBt  howls,  ui  gusty  storms. 

The  laag,  dark  u^ht  I 
The  mnse,  nae  poet  ever  fend  her, 
mi  by  bimsel  he  learn'd  to  wandei 

And  no  think  lang ; 
Oh  eveet,  to  stray  and  pensive  poudi 


A  lieart-fell  son: 
ly  dmd^ 


Shall  let  the  busy  grumblijig  hivs 


oy  rhyme-composing  hrither !" 


Fareweel, " 
We've  been 
Ko«  let  us  lay  our  heads  thegitl 

In  love  fraternal ; 
Has  eni;  \rallop  in  a  tether. 

Black  liend,  infernal 


While  te 
Count  Di 


In  lUiDEitT  Burn 
POSISCBIPT. 


is  New  Ijgbt, 
like  to  fight. 


At  grammar,  logie,  j 
They  took  nae  pains 


by  degrees,  till  her  last  roon 
Gaed  post  their  viewing 

kortly  after  she  was  done. 
They  gat  a  new  one. 

last  for  eerlain— nndisputed ; 

■■T  cam  i'  their  heads  to  doubt  i^ 

jels  gat  up  and  wad  confute  it. 


iro'd  apo'  the  benk, 
Ik  the  think  misleuk; 
looH  turned  &  neuk. 


And  backlins-comi 


Thi 


bright. 


— it  was  oftirmed  i 
meneroa  aiiu  nirsels  were  aJarmcd: 
Tlie  rev'tciid  grey-bearda  rav'd  and  storm'd 

That  beardless  laddies 
Should  iluuk  they  better  nere  uiform'd 

Than  their  auld  duddies. 


it  gaed  to 


ords  and  aiths  to  clours  and  nick^ 
ooy  D  fullow  gat  his  licks, 

m^  to  leam  tliem  for  tiieu-  Iricts, 

Were  hajig'd  and  btnut. 
me  was  play'd  in  monie  lands, 


l>ae 


Bnt  New  Light  herds  gat 
Folk  thought  them  ruin'd 


icks; 


New-I.%hl  fair 
^  quite  bui-efac'd 
uld  light  flocks 


Are  laind't  : 
And  stay  af 


By  word  an 

ly  they  wiU  a 
Id  Light  herds 


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DEATH  AHD  DR.  HORSEOOK: 

willgie  them;  And  t' 

oouji's  gaun  to  lat'e    Thej  were  as 


.  sliair'itlieyll  fetch  it  wi' them, 

just  i'  theit  pouch, 
Aud  when  the  New  Light  hillies  see  them, 

I  think  they'll  crouch  1 
Sue,  ye  obaervB  tlist  a'  this  clatter 

Sat  Iho"  dull  prose-folk  Latin  splatter 

lu  logic  tukie, 
I  hope  ae  bardies  ken  some  better 

atiBQ  iDUtd  sie  btulzlB. 


©catji  onll  If.  SSnmlmill. 

Some  hooka  ax 


And  so 


_   .  ra  they  hae  been  keiin'd, 

A  rousmg  nhid  at  thues  to  vend. 

Aud  nall't  wi'  Scriptulft 
But  this  that  I  am  gann  to  tell, 
Whieh  lately  on  a  night  hefi^il, 
I>  juat  19  truG's  the  ded's  iu  hell 

Or  Dublin  eity: 
Hial  e'er  be  nc  nearer  comes  oursel 

'a  a  niQclfle  pity. 
1^  i^achan  ydl  had  made  me  canty^- 
I  was  HB  fou,  but  just  had  plenty; 
I  etaelier'd  whylea,  but  yet  took  tent  aye 

To  Iree  the  ditches; 
And  hillocks,  etancs.  and  bushes  kenned  aye 

Frae  ghmz^ts  and  witclies. 
Hie  rismg  moon  bestin  to  glow'r 
To  count  her  boms,  wi'  a'  my  pow'r. 

But  whether  sha  had  three  at  four, 

I  could  na  telL 
I  was  come  round  about  the  hill. 
And  todliu'  down  on  WiUie's  miU  (29), 
Betttng  my  staff  wi'  all  my  skill. 

To  keep  me  sicker ; 
Tbo'  leewflid  whylea,  agninsl  my  will, 


I  to 


I  there  wi 
That  pi 


nethuig  did  further. 


An  awfu'  acythe,  out-owre  ae  ahouther, 
Clear-daiigiing,  hong; 

A  tbiee-taed  leiater  on  the  ithec 
Lay,  large  and  lang. 

Its  stature  seem'd  lang  Scotch  ells  twa. 

The  queetcii  shipe  that  e'er  1  saw, 

For  Sent  a  wame  it  had  avaj 


"  Guid  e'en,"  quo'  I ;  "  Friend,  hae  ye  been 

It  seem'd  to  mak  a  kind  o'  stan'. 

But  noething  spak; 
At  length  aava  I.'yrieud,  wbareye  gaun. 

Will  y«  go  back?" 
It  spake  right  hoive— "  My  name  is  Death, 
But  be  na  fleyd."    Quoth  I,  "  Quid  &itU 
Ye're  maybe  come  to  atap  my  hreathl 


a  gully  I" 

"Guidman,"<iuo'he,  "put  up  your  whiitle, 
I'm  no  desigiieil  to  try  its  mettlBj 
But  if  I  did.  I  wad  be  kittle 
To  he  misleat'd; 
I  wad  na  miiid  it,  no,  that  spittle 

"Weel,  weel  I"  saj-s  I,  "a  ha^iun  bet; 
Come,  giea  your  bund,  and  sae  we're  gree't  j 

This  while  ye  hae  bean  muuy  a  gate, 

"Ay,  ay!"  quo' he,  and  shook hia  head, 
"  It's  e  en  a  Jang  time  indeed 
Sui'  I  began  to  nick  the  lliread, 

An'\  clioke  the  breath  r 
Folk  mauu  do  something  for  their  btmS, 

And  aae  miuu  Death. 

Sin"  w™to"th^JtchhiE  l^a,"' 
And  many  a  scheme  in  vain's  been  IbH, 

TH  ane  Horiibook'a  laen  up  the  trade, 

And  t^th  he'U  waur  me. 
"  Ye  ken  Jock  Hornbook  i'  the  clachan, 
Dell  mak  his  king's-hood  in  a  aplenchani 

And  ither  chaps. 
The  weana  baud  out  their  Sngera  langhia'. 

And  pouk  my  hipa. 
"  See,  here's  a  acythe,  and  there's  a  dart. 
They  hae  pierc'd  mony  a  gaJlaut  heart ; 
But  Doclut  Hornbook  wi'  his  art 

And  cursed  skill, 
Has  made  ttieni  both  no  worth  a  f— tj,- 

Pamn'd  haet  they'll  kJlL 
"  'Two3  but  yestreen,  nae  farther  gien,., 
I'm  sure,  I've  hundreds  slain;  , 


It  deil-m 


in  the  t 


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EUEKS'S  POETICAL  irOEKS. 


"  Hornbroolt  waa  by  wi"  ready  art. 
And  iad  &bs  fortilied  the  part. 
That  whea  I  looked  to  my  dart^ 

It  was  sae  hlunt. 
Keut  haet  o't  wad  liae  pierc'd  the  lunrt 


"And  then  a'  doctor's  a 

A'  kinds  o'  boxes,  lougs. 
He-s  sure  to 
Theic  Latin 


fast  lie  tattlea 


"Cakes  o' fossils, earths,  and  trees; 
Tnie  sal-matiiium  o'  the  stns ; 
The  larma  of  beans  and  peas, 

Hehas't  in  plenty; 
Aqus-fontia,  what  you  please. 


Or  mile-hom  shavings,  tilings,  scrapings 
Sal-ilkoli  o*  midge-tail  clippings, 

"Waes  me  for  Johnny  Ged's  Hole  (31)  ra 
Qna'I;  "if  that  thse  nen-3  heirue, 
Hia  braw  calf-ward  nliare  gowans  grew, 

Bae  nhite  and  bonny, 
Nae  doubt  they'll  rive  it  wi'  the  plew ; 


llieyllruiiiJohnnj!" 


The  creature  grain'd  ai 
And  says,  "  Ye  need  ni 
Kirkyaida  wdl  soon  bf 
Tak  ye  nai 
Hieylla'hetiencli'dii 

"Whare  IkiU'd  ane  a 
By  loss  o'  blood  or  vs 
Tina  night  I'm  free  to 

Tlial  Hom 
Haa  dad  a  score  i'  th( 

By  drap  n 
"An  honest  ivabster  t( 
Whasewifii'stHa  nicves 
Gat  Oppence  worth  to 


*  4  countta  kird  had  taen  tlie  hatts, 
Or  rome  curmarring  in  bis  guts ; 
His  only  son  for  Honibool;  sets. 


"Butharlc!  Ill  tell  you  of  a  pic 
Though  dinna  ye  be  speaking  o' 
I'il  nail  the  selt-eonceiied  sot 


Eire  BeIii  /air. 

Arobeo 
And'sw 

ffeeminglruttmodtta 
;tfliinT.'wLtL|>t>ison'd 

tost, 

AmSik 
Ang^ 

hat  like  the  Korget  ahow'd, 

iTlnEonthepiirtDn; 
a  mantle  li.rj.'o  and  broaii, 
apt  him  (n  Relision. 

llvPoeaisv  a.i.*.hode.  (11.) 

Upon  a  eimmer  Siuiday  mom, 

Whtro  Nature's  face  is  fen-, 

I  walked  forth  to  view  tbe  com. 

Wi' glorious  light  was  glintin'; 
Tlie  liares-were  hirpUn'  down  the  fura 
The  lavVocks  they  were  chantin* 
Fu'  sweet  tint  day. 

As  liglitaomely  I  glowr'd  abroad. 

To  see  a  scene  sae  gay. 
Three  hiasies,  early  at  the  road, 

Twa  had  mantceles  o'  dolefu'  black. 

The  third,  that  gaed  a-»ee  a-bacl^ 
Was  in  the  fashion  shidne, 
tV  gay  that  da.;. 


Ho,t,db,  Google 


HALLOWEEN" 


ToorLBeKie's  "iiEai't  mHiilt   jiqi  l1i? 
Uear  lOTToct-iei^kt    she   juiiipit^ 


I,  Google 


Ho,t,db,  Google 


THE  HOLT   FAIE. 

There,  racer,  Jess 


And  sour  as  oay  slaes : 
Die  third  cam  up,  lisp-slep-gn'-lowp, 
Ab  light  IS  ony  kiubie, 


Fu'  kjtid  that  day, 
aff.qiiothl,  "Sweet 


Quo'  she,  and  kughin'  i 

And  tiLka  me  by  Ihe  1 

"YB,forniy5Bke.haeKi 


■My  nnme  is  Fiin — your  cnrnie  dear. 

The  ueareat  friend  ye  liae; 
And  thiA  Is  Supersdtion  here. 

And  that's  Hypocrisy. 
I'm  gum  to  Maachline  holy  fair. 

To  speod  ail  hour  in  dafHn' : 
Gin  yell  Ko  ihere,  yon  runkl'il  pair, 

WawUlgetfemonskuKliin' 
At  them  this  day," 

Qnrlh  1 "  Wth  a'  my  heart,  I'll  do't j 

I '11  get  my  Sunday's  Mtk  on, 
And  meet  you  on  the  holy  Sliot — 

Faith,  we'se  hae  fine  reniarkin  '  [  ■* 
Then  1  gaed  hame  at  erovdie-tim^ 

Aud  aoon  I  made  me  ready ; 
For  roods  were  clad,  from  side  to  side, 

Wi'  mooie  a  wearie  hody. 


Here  farmers  gtttb,  in  ridin'  gruth 

Gaud  hoddiu  hy  their  cottars ; 
Here,  BivBBkiea  young,  in  braiv  brad-claith. 

Are  Bpriiigin'  o'er  the  gutters. 
The  tasaea,  skelpin'  bareliC,  chraDg, 

In  sUks  and  scarlets  glitter ; 
Wi' sweet-mUk  oil —  '" ^ -.■.-.... 


la  hak-d  wi 


Fu'  crump 

mien  hy  the  plate  ne  set 

Weel  heaped  up  «i'  ha' 
A  greedy  glow'r  black  hoi 

And  we  maun  draw  om 
Then  in  we  go  to  see  the  sh 

On  ev'ry  side  they're  gatt 
Some  carrying  dails,  some  el 

And  some  are  busy  bletht 

Right  loud  th 

Here  standi  a  shed  to  fend  t 

And  screen  our  country  gi 


tippence, 

ind  stools, 


Aue  curse; 

feetth 

atfvi'dhisshhl 

AnithH 

sigliB  and  liravs : 

On  this  hand  sils 

cliosenswateh 

Wi'aet 
On  that  a 

TV'd-Up 

eto'cE 

ps  at  watch. 

Thrang 

ttinkii.' 

on  the  lasses 

To 

(liita  thit  day. 

Oh  happy 

IS  (hatn 

lan  and  blest! 

(U.L'ic 

nder  that  it  pride  him 

Wha's  ain 

dear  las 

tbathelibesb 

Comffi  diukiii' 

own  beside  bin 

Wi'armr 

pos'do 

1  tlie  chair  bac 

He  swee 

ilydoe 

compose  him; 

Wi  fright  that  day. 
Hear  how  lie  clears  the  point?  o'  fiiitli 
Wirattliii'aiidin'thiiiniilii'! 

He's  atampiii'snd  lie'sjiunpin'! 
Ills  lengthened  ebin,  his  turu'd-up  anr 

His  ddritch  squeal  nod  gestures. 
Oh,  how  they  Gre  Che  heart  deiou^ 

like  cuitharidian  planters, 


Smith  opens  out  hi 

On  practice  and 

And  ^  the  godly  I 


cauTi  barBtiguea  (35)i 
jur  in  thnmgs. 


What  sonifies  his  barren  i 
Of  moral  pDWt'a  and  tea 

His  English  style  and  gesl 
Are  a'  clean  out  o'  seasi: 


Hoifdb,  Google 


BCENS'S  POETICAL  WO] 


In  guid  tiiae  comei  an  antidote 
Against  sic  poison'd  UDSttum ; 

Foe  Peebles,  fne  the  water-fit  (36), 
Aaceiids  the  holj'  rostram  : 

See,  QD  lie's  got  the  word  o'  God, 
Aiid  nwek  and  mim  has  view'd  it. 

Willie  Common  Seuse  (371  haa  la' 

And  ajj,  and  up  the  Cow^te  (38), 


Now  butt  and  hen  the  change-house  fills, 
Wi'  yill-caup  commeuUtord  ; 

Here's  cr;'ing  out  for  bakes  and  ^Ih, 
And  there  the  pint-aionp  claiiera  ; 

'While   thick   and   thiai^  and    loud  a 


alk  o'  hell,  nhare  deiila  dwell, 
Wi'  fright  that  day. 
it,  nnbottom'd,  boundless  pit, 
I'd  f>u  o'  lowin'  branaiane, 
i  ra jin'  flama,  and  loordiin'  heat, 
id  melt  tbe  liardeat  whun-stwel 
lalE  asleep  stlirt  up  wi'  fear, 

1  preseiitljf  it  does  apjiear 
Asleep  that  day. 
'T>™d  be  owre  long  a  tale,  to  tell 

And  how  they  ctuwdixl  to  the  yill 

When  lliey  were  a'  dismist : 
How  dtiiik  gaed  round,  in  cogs  and  caup^ 

Amang  the  furms  and  beiichea : 

nit  cheese  and  bread,  frae  women's  laps. 

Was  dealt  about  in  lunches. 


Tl-i' logic  and  w 

'Scripture, 

They  raise  a  din,  t 

lat,  in  the 'end. 

Isliketobrfed 

0' wrath  tiac  day. 

Leeze  me  on  drjn 

!  it  gies  us  mail 

Thau  either  school  or'colfege: 

It  kindles  wit,  ilB 

aul<en<  lair. 

!t  pangs  as  fou 

o-  knowledge. 

Be't»hitkygil!,o 

penny  whiep. 

Or  ony  stranger 

potiou, 

It  never  fails,  on  d 

inking  deep, 

To  pillle  up  our 

notion 

By  Bight  or  day. 

TheladsandhBsc! 

,  blythely  bent 

To  mind  bailh  s 

mlaadbody. 

Sit  round  the  table 

weel  content. 

And  steer  about 

the  toddy. 

On  this  ane's  dress 

and  that  ane'a  lenk. 

They're  making 

observations; 

■While  some  are  COS 

ie  i'  the  neuk. 

And  rormbi'  assignations 

Ton 

iieet  some  day. 

But  now  the  L-d 

s  ain  tranipet  toat% 

Tdia' tbehiHs 

ijid  echoea  back  r 

Black  Bnssell  (40)  is  na  sparin' : 

His  piercing  words 

like  Highlan'  aword. 

Diiide  the  joint 

and  marrow; 

cie,  gash  gnidnife, 
kebbnck  and  her  knife ; 


iV  laiig  that  day. 
nr  him  that  gets  nac  la: 
that  line  nathing  I 
las  he  to  say  a  grace, 


iuises  he  affronted 
Now  ClinkumheU,  wi'  raltli 


re  and  drinl^ 


Ho,t,db,  Google 


THE   ORDINATION. 


they  little  owe  a>  frnial  HesiVi 


And  ye  Ofha  tenthei  lax  snd  draw, 

Of  a'  denominations,  |43) 
Snith  to  the  Isigb  Kirk,  sue  and  a*, 

Aiid  there  tak  up  ;aiii  slatiooa; 
Thm  aff  to  Beghie'a  (44)  in  a  raw. 

For  joy  tbiB  day. 
Curst  Common  Sense,  that  imp  o'  hell 

Cam  ia  wi'  Maggie  Lauder  (45) ; 
But  OliphBDt  aft  made  her  yell, 

Atid  Russell  sail  misca'd  her ; 
•Pat  day  M taks  the  flail. 

And  he's  the  boy  will  hlaud  her  I 
He'll  clap  a  ahangon  oi  ' 


Wi'i 


Hak  baste  and  tiun  king  David  owre, 

And  lilt  wi'  holy  clangor  j 
O'  double  verse  come  gia  ua  four, 

And  skirl  up  the  Bangor : 
Jiia  day  the  Kirk  kicks  up  a  stoure, 

Nae  mait  the  knavea  ahail  wrang  her. 
For  Heteay  is  in  her  pow'r. 

And  gloriously  ehe^l  nhang  lier 
Wi'  pith  this  day. 

And  Couch  it  aS  wi'  vigour. 
How  graceless  Ham  (46)  leugh  at  his  dad, 

Which  made  Canaan  anigger; 
Or  Thiueas  (47)  drove  the  murdering  blade, 

Wi'  wh-re-abhorring  rigour ; 
Or  Zipporali  (48],  the  scauldiu'  jad. 

Was  like  a  bluidy  tiger 

I'  th-  inn  that  day. 
There,  try  his  mettle  on  the  creed. 

That  stipend  is  a  carnal  weed 

He  taks  but  for  the  fashion ; 
And  gie  bim  o'er  the  flock,  to  feed. 

And  pnidah  each  transgression ; 


IiCng  Patronage,  wi'  rod  o'  airn. 

Has  shor'd  the  Kirlt's  undoin', 
Aa  lately  Fenwick.  aa«  forfairu. 


Now,  Robertson  (49),  harangue  nae  mix 
But  ateek  your  gab  for  ever : 

Or  try  the  wicked  town  of  Ayr, 
For  there  they'll  think  you  clever) 


Or,ni 


myoui 


Or  to  the  Nelberton  |50)  repair, 
And  turn  a  carpet-weaver 

Aff-haiid  this  day. 

Muttre  {51)aJidyonwereiutt  a' 
We  never  had  aic  twa  drones  ^ 

Anid  Homie  did 


To  frv  til 


nkin'  baudrona; 

ithec  wretch. 


inhisca 


Wi'. 


Fast,  fast  this  day. 
See,  aee  auld  Ortbodosy's  fees 

She's  swingcin  through  the  city; 
Hark,  how  the  uine-tail'd  cat  she  plays  1 

There,  Learning,  with  his  Greekisii  (ace. 
Grunts  out  some  I^tin  ditty. 

And  Common  Senae  is  gann,  she  says. 
To  mak  to  Jamie  Beattie  (52) 
Her  plant  this  day. 

But  there'i  Morality  himsel', 
Rmbradng  all  opinions ; 

Hear,  how  be  gies  the  tuher  yell. 

See,  how  she  peels  the  shiu  and  fdl, 

Now  there— tliey 're  packed  aff  to  hell. 
And  banish'd  our  dominions, 

Hencefuttb  this  day. 
Oh,  happy  day  I  rejoice,  rejoice  I 


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BUENS'S  POETICAL  ■WOHKS. 


ThatHM 

They'll  gie 

peahoj-i 

Audcowe 

hermeBS 
Byth' 

ra  shortc 
head  30ID 

Come,  bring 

tlietitliermmehki 

Toeveiy  N«wL^!it  (53)mother'ason 
From  this  time  forth.  Confusion  : 

If  mur  tliey  deave  U9  wi'  their  din. 
Or  Patronage  intrusion, 

V/e'U  light  a  spunk,  aid  evsry  skin 
We'U  rin  them  alf  in  fusion, 
Liko  oil  some  day. 

afD  %tmts  giiiitji.  (54) 


lonetbeemncli!' 

Dear  Smith,  the ) 
Thate'erattemptei 


se^est,  paukie  thief, 
warlock-hreef' 


iy  Site  in  guid  black  pi«nt ; 
the  mait  I'm  thit  -way  bont, 
Something  cries  "Hooliel 


Now  motlia  delu 


Then  farei 


A'  future  ages ; 


To  garland  mv 
Henceforth  I'll 

>    And  teach  the 

I'll  wander  on,  irilh  tentles! 


whistling  Ihrang, 
:ly  heighia  and  howe* 


How  I 
TiUfai 


111  ley  m 


cr-haltin^ 


I  anap  the  brittle  thread; 
Then,  all  unknowa, 
;h  th"  ingiorions  dead. 


rs'" 


ery  feature 
)te,  the  Man, 
fit  o'  rylime, 


To  hear  what' a  i 


ts  like  minutea,  hi 

Dance  by  fu' 

!  wand  then  let  U! 


I    ance  life's   day   draws    near  the 
^    amin'. 

Then  fareweel  Tacant  careless  roamin' ; 
And  tarewcel  chccrfu'  tankards  foainia'. 

And  social  noise ; 
And  fiireweel  dear,  deluding  woman  I 

Thejoyofjoya! 
Oh  life !  how  pleasant  in  thy  momias. 
Young  Fancy's  riiya  thehiUs  adorning  I 
Cold-pausing  caution's  lesson  scorning, 

We  friak  away, 
like  school-boya,  at,  th'  enpected  wamiua 

To  joy  and  play. 


Ho,t,db,  Google 


We  wonder  tliere,  we  wander  here. 
We  eye  llie  rose  upon  the  brier, 
UuDJndful  that  the  thorn  is  near, 

Among  the  leaver  I 
And  tho'  the  puiiy  wound  Bppar, 

Short  while  it  grieves. 
Smne,  luclfy.  fiiid  a  flow'ry  spot. 
For  which  they  never  toii'd  or  swat ; 
Tta«y  drink  the  aneet  and  eat  the  liit 

But  care  or  pain  ; 


With  steady  aim  some  Fortune  chsM; 
Keen  hope  does  ev'ty  sinew  brace ; 
Thto'  tar,  thro'  foul,  thej  urge  the  m». 

And  seiae  the  prey ; 
Tbsa  eannie,  in  some  cosie  plaee. 

The;  close  the  day. 
And  others',  like  your  humble  setvan', 
Poor  wights !  nae  rules  nor  roads  observin' 
To  right  or  left,  eternal  swervin', 

They  !i?-i*s  on ; 
mi  carat  with  ai^,  obscure  and  ataivin,' 

They  otten  groan. 


la  fortune's  fickle  Luna  w 

E'en  let  he 

Beueatb  what  Ii9;ht  she  ht 


img  our  s 


nnulR 


M;  pen  I  here  fling  to  the  door. 

And  kneel,  "Ye  PQw'ra,"  and  warm  impk 

"Tho'  I  should  wander  terra  o'er. 

In  all  her  elimea, 
Grant  me  but  this,  I  ask  no  more, 

Aye  rowlh  o'  rhymes. 
(Se  dreeping  roasts  to  ouuntra  lairds. 
Til!  idcSes  tnng  frae  their  beards ; 
Gie'  fine  braw  claea  to  line  fife  guards. 

And  maids  of  honour  1 
AnS  yill  and  whisky  gie  to  eairds. 

Until  they  scouuer, 
A  title,  Dempster  merits  it ; 
A  garter  gie  to  Willie  Rii ; 
CHe  wealth  to  some  be-ledger'd  dt. 


Butpve 

me  real,  sterling  wit. 

And  I'm  content. 

While  ye 

rr:,'.t£'."i- 

I'll  sit  do 

Be'twale 

-hroee,  or  muslin-kail. 

Wi'  eheerfu'  face. 

Asiang's 

the  muses  diuna  fail 

To  say  the  grace." 

Ananiioi 

Behinlm 

y  lug  or  by  my  nose; 

[  jouk  beneath  misfortiin 


Oh  je  douce  fullt,  that  Uve  by  i 
Grave,  tidelesa-blooded,  caln\  an 
Compar'd  wi'  you — oh  fool !  fc 


Nae  hair-hr^'d,  sentimental  trace% 
In  your  unletter'd  nameless  faces  I 
In  tirioso  trills  and  graces 

Te  never  stray. 
But  graviasimo,  solemn  basses 

Ye  hum  away. 
Ye  are  sae  grave,  nae  doubt  ye're  wisO! 
Nae  ferly  tho'  ye  do  despise 
The  hairum^scairum,  ram-stam  boy% 

The  rattling  squad ; 


— Yeke 


Whilst  I— but  I  shall  hand  me  there— 
Wi'  you  I'll  scarce  gang  ony  where — 
Then,  Jamie,  I  shall  say  nae  man'. 
But  quat  my  san?. 
Content  wi'  you  to  mak  a 


Whare'er 


[gang. 


^t  Mk  Scggara.-a  Cmkk.  (55) 


WiiBM  lyart  leaves  bestrew  the  yinJ, 
Or  wavering  like  the  bauekie-blrd. 

Bedim  iwdd  Boreas'  blast ; 
When  hMlilones  drive  wi'  bitter  ifcyts 
And  in&nt  ti-usts  begin  to  bite. 

In  hoary  cranreudi  drest ; 
Ae  night  at  e'en  a  merry  eore 

O'  randie,  gangrel  bodies, 
In  Foosie  Nancy's  held  the  splorSi 

To  drink  their  orra  duddies : 
Wi'  qnaftiug  and  laughing. 

They  ranted  and  they  sanj; 

Wi' jumping  and  Elmmping, 

The  vera  girdle  rang. 

First,  neist  the  fire,  in  auld  red  ragf^ 

Ane  sait  weel  brac'd  wi'  meily  ba^ 

And  knapsack  a'  in  order ; 
His  doxy  lay  within  his  arm, 
Wi'  iisqaebae  and  blankets'wano— 

She  blinket  on  her  sodger : 


The  tlther 


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Ukaimidi  stilt,  did  craci 
Just  like  a  career's  > 

Theiiatai^eriiigaudsT 
Heioaiedthiaditt; 


RNS'S  POETICAL  ■WORKS. 

'  one  of  a  troop  of  dra^oona  was  iD 
Uie, 
No  woniler  Tm  fond  of  a  aoawt  lafldie. 


a  ttench,  [the  dnim. 

When  welcomingthe  French  at  the  sound  of 

lal  de  daudle,  &c. 
My  'prenticesliip  I  past  where  my  leader 

hteath'd  his  last,  [of  Abram  (57); 

Wlen  the  bloody  die  was  east  oa  the  heights 
I  serred  out  ray  trade  when  the  gallant  game 

was  play'd.  [sound  of  the  drum. 

And  the  Uorro  '""  '"  —  '"'^    '  "'"" 


I  la 


audle,  &c 
with  Curtis,  aiDOug  the  flotttjng 


And  now  tho'  I  must  beg  with  a  wooden  arm 

and  lejf.  [bum. 

And  ma^y  a  tatter  d  ras  hanging  over  my 

I'm  as  hafjtiy  with  my  wullet,  my  liDttle  and 


Beneath  the  woods  aiid  rocica  oRenliraes  for 

When  the  totlier  hag  I  sell,  and  tlie  tother 

bottle  tell,  [a  drum. 

I  could  meet  a  tconp  of  hell  at  the  sonod  of 


Tdnb — Sdtdl^  Laddie, 


rudSy. 


Transported  I  was  with  ray  soijger  laddie. 
Sing,  Ul  5e  tal.  &e. 
But  the  godly  old  chaphiin  left  him  ui  the 

The  si^rd  I  forsook  for  the  soke  of  the 
, anJIrisk'd  the  body— 
ul^eto  my  Bodger  laddie. 
Sing,  LdI,  de1al,&c 


ur'dthesoi 


Ftdl  St 


The  regiment  at 

From  the  gilded  sponloou 


ctiliedso. 


rebntasodgerladdlB 


ing,  Lai,  de  lal,  £c 
But  Ihepeaceitrednc'draetobegin  despair, 
Till  I  met  my  old  hoy  at  Cunnmgham  tairi 
His  rags  regimental  they  llutter'd  bo  gaudy. 
My  heart  it  rejoic'd  tx  a  sodf^er  inddie. 

8ing,  Lal  de  ltd,  jte. 
HVd — I  know  not  how  long 


illica 


But  whilsl 


Poor  Merry  Andrew 
They  niind't  na  wtia  i 


.Biids    1  CI 


I  tear  I  my  talent  misteut. 

But  what  will  ye  hae  of  a  fool  ? 
For  drink  I  would  venture  my  necfc, 


Ho,t,db,  Google 


THE  JOLLY  BEGGIKS. 


06aerv'd  ye,  yon  reverend  lad 

Maks  facea  to  tickle  the  mob ; 
He  tails  at  our  tnnuntebanli  squad — 


GiLdeL— d!  he's  &r  daOertlian  t 


Then  ndst  ontapak  a  raucle  earlin. 


TuKE — O  an  ye  mere  dead  Guidmsn^ 
A  Hfehland  lad  my  love  wBS  bom. 
The  Xkwland  kng  he  held  in  scorn 
But  he  still  VHS  feithfu'  to  Iii9  clan. 
My  gBllmt  braw  John  Higlilandnmn. 

Smg,  hey  my  btaw  John  Highlanilman ! 

S'liig,  ho,  my  hmw  John  Highlandman ! 

There's  not  a  lad  in  a'  the  Ian' 

Was  match  foi  my  John  Hi^litandDiau. 
With  hia  philabeg  and  tartan  plaid. 
And  giiid  claymore  down  by  his  aide, 
The  ladies'  hearts  he  did  trepan. 
My  gallant  braw  John  Hlghlandnuoi. 

Sing,  hey,  &e. 
We  ranged  a'  from  Tweed  to  Spey, 
And  liv'd  like  lords  and  ladies  gay ; 
For  a  Lawtand  foce  he  feared  none. 
My  gallant  braw  John  Hijfhlandniaa. 

Sing,  hey,  &c 
They  banish'd  him  beyond  the  eel. 


>n  the  1 


Adown  my  cheeks  t' 
Embracii^  my  John  Highlandmi 
Sing,  hey,  &c. 
But,  oh  I  they  citch'd  him  at  tlie 
And  bound  him  in  a  dungeon  faa 


And  now  a  widow,  I  muet  mcur 
TKe  pleasure'a  that  will  ne'er  rel 
No  romfort  but  a  hearty  can, 
When  I  think  on  John  Highlam 


A  pigmy  sernper,  wi'  his  fiddle, 
Wha  ut'd  at  trysls  and  faira  to  driddl^ 
Her  slrappin'  limb,  end  gsacy  middle 
(He  reuch'd  na  higher) 


Wi'  hand  on  haunch,  and  upwud  e's 
He  etooii'd  his  gamut,  onc^  two,  thtcf^ 
Then  in  an  arioso  key. 


Tvsa—WMatle  oe'r  tie  lane  Vt 
l£t  me  ryke  up  to  di^ht  that  tear. 


At  kirna  and  weddings  we'ae  be  the 
And  oh  1  sae  lueely's  we  will  (are ; 
Weni  bouse  about  till  Daddie  Care 

Sae  merrily  (he  banes  well  pyke, 

And  sun  ouraelia  about  the  dyke, 

And  at  our  leisure,  when  ye  like. 

Well  wliistJe  ow're  the  lase  o't. 


Her  charms  had  strucli  a  sturdy  caii'd. 

As  wepi  OS  pnot  gut-sersper ; 
Ee  taks  tlie  fiddler  by  the  beard. 

And  draws  a  coostj  rapier — 


Ho,t,db,  Google 


BUKNS'S  POETICAL  WOEKS. 


Hem 


:ing  «Drtli, 
time  forth 


UukBB  he  wad  fr 

Kelisqiush  hec  foi'  ever, 
Wi'  ghastlj  e'e,  poor  tweedle-dea 

UliDn.  bis  hunkers  bended. 
And  praj'd  for  grace  wi'  ruefa'  dee. 

And  see  the  qiurrel  ended. 
But  tho' 


When 


mnd  th 


Bnlrile  ir 


prest 


mrd  addressU  her  j 


TlTKE- 


-Clout  the  Oaidran. 
I,  I  work  in  brass, 


My  bonny] 

rve  trsiell'd  round  E 

Fve  ta'en  the  gold,  I've  been  enrott'd 
_  In  many  s.  noble  squadron : 

ch'd,  when  off  I  match'd 


l11  Chnstian  grouud 


Togt 


id  cbut  the  en 


re  tae'u  ehe  gold,  &c. 
Despise  that  ehcimp.  that  wither'd  iin 
Wi'  a'  hia  noise  and  caprin,' 

The  budget  and  the  apron. 
And  by  that  stoup,  my  faith  and  hon 
And  by  that  dear  Kilbagie  (61), 


In  his  embraces  sunk. 
Partly  wi'  love  o'ercome  gae  b^, 

And  partly  she  waa  drunk. 
BffViolmo,withanair 

That  Bbow'd  a  man  of  apunk. 
Wieli'd  unison  between  the  pair, 

And  made  the  bottle  clunk 

To  theh  health  that  nighL 
But  hnrchin  Cupid  shot  a  shaft. 

That  play'd  a  dame  a  shavie, 
The  fiddler  raked  her  fote  aud  aft, 

Ahint  the  chicken  cavie. 
Her  lord,  a  "ight  o'  Homer's  craft, 

Tho'  hmpui[r  wi'  the  spavie. 
He  hirpl'd  up,  and  lap  like  daft. 

And  shor'd  them  Damty  Davie 

O'  boot  that  night 
He  was  a  care-delying  blade 

■      -arBacchoi  ■■  '  ■ 


Tlio'  Fori 

Hia  heart  she  ev 


a  laid. 


He  had  nae  wish  hnt^-to  he  gM, 
Nor  want  but— when  he  thirsted 

He  had  nought  but— to  be  sad. 
And  thus  the  Muse  suggested 


Tone— For  a'  (Sb(,  md  a'  that. 


list; 

richly  leam^ 


I've  wife  enengh  fo 

iHcver  drank  the  Muaes'j 

Caslalia's  burn  and  a'  tl 

But  there  it  streams,  and  i 

My  Hehcon  I  ca'  that, 

For  a'  that,  &c. 
Great  love  I  bear  to  a'  the  fEui 
iii  humble  slave,  and  a*  t 
But  lordly  mil,  I  hold  it  still 
'  uortal  sui  lo  thraw  that. 
Tor  a-  that,  &e. 
In  raptures  sweet,  this  hour  w 


w  lai^  the  Slee  may  stang, 
nation  law  that. 
For  a'  that,  &c. 


For  a'  that.  Bud  a"  that. 


IS  muckle'aa'that; 


They're 
ng  the  bar 


Be-ec 


with 


]  from  each  mouth  : 
'd  th^  pocks,  aud  paw 


fudB. 


They 

They  scarcely  left 

J  ne  poei  uia  request, 
loose  his  pack  and  wale  a  aan^ 
A  ballad  o'  the  best ; 
He  rising,  rejoicing. 

Between  bis  twa  Deborahs, 

LooVs  round  hira,  and  found  th 

Impatient  for  the  chorua. 


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TuHE-Jb»!/  MoTialSifiU  your  Gi 
Sue  I  tlie  smoking  bowl  before  U9, 

Mark  our  jovial  ragged  ringi 
Boimd  and  round  take  U|]  the  chorus 


A  fig  for  those  bj  bw  proteotedl 

Liberty's  a  glorious  feast! 
Courts  foe  cowards  were  erected, 
Churchea  built  to  pleaae  tlie  prieat 
VThtA  is  title  ?  vhat  ia  treasure  1 
What  ia  reputation's  care? 


MAN  WAS  MADE  TO  MOURN. 
Or  haply,  prest  with 


re! 


Itw, 

Afig,&c 
"With  the  ready  trick  and  fiible, 

Boimd  we  waudur  all  the  day  j 
And  at  night  in  bam  or  stable. 


The  sun  that  overliangs  yon  luoorBf 

Out-spreading  far  and  wide. 

Where  hundreib  labour  to  support 

luughty  lotdling*!  pride : 


Misspendiug  all  tliy  precious  houi^ 

Tliy  glorious  youths  prime  1 
kJlernate  fdliea  take  the  away; 


Does  Che  sober  bed  of  marriage 
Witueaa  brighter  sceuea  of  love  1 
JLig,&B. 


I  budgets,  bags,  and  wallets  I 


A  fisw  seem  favouritea  of  fate. 

In  pleaaure's  lap  carest ; 
Tet,  think  not  nil  the  rich  and  great 


One  asd  all  cry  out — Ameu ! 
A  fig  for  those  by  law  protected! 
liberty's  a  Elirions  feast ! 


™ted. 


Many  and  sharp  the  in 


Mhb  mas  ^atiB  in  atHnrii.  (62) 

When  chill  November's  surly  blast 

Made  fields  and  torer    ' 
One  ev'n^ng,  as  I  wandi 

Along  the  bf 
I  spied  a  man '( 

Seem'd  weari , 

aa  futrow'd  o'er  with  years, 


wandered  forth 
ose  aged  step 


And  hoary  wi 
"Young  stranger,  whither  wanii're 

B^an  the  rev'rend  sage : 
'Does  thirst  of 'irealth  thy  atep  cc 

Or  youthful  pleaaure's  cage  ? 


See  yonder  poor,  o'e-  labour'd  wight 
So  ahjeot,  mean,  and  vile, 

Who  begs  a  brother  of  the  eutb 
To  give  him  leave  to  toil ; 


Thept 


thouP' 


ul,  though  a  weeping  wife 
And  helpless  offspring  mounL 
F  I'm  deaign'd  yon  lordlmg's  slave— 
By  Nature's  law  design^ — 
Why  was  an  independent  wish 
r  planted  in  my  mind? 


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Disturb  Ihy  youthful  breaat ; 
'Hua  partial  view  of  bumau-ldud 


To  camfoit  those  tb&C  tuonrn ! 
OhDeath?  the  poorman's  dearest  frit 

The  kindest  and  the  beat ! 
Wekome  the  hour,  mj  aged  limba 

Are  lud  with  thee  at  rest ! 
The  great,  the  wealthy,  fear  thy  blow. 

From  pomp  and  pleasure  toru  I 
But,  oh!  a  blest  rrliff  to  those 

l^t  B-eary-lideu  moum ', " 


wember  1785.  (63.) 


I'm  tndy  sorrow  man's  dominion 

Has  broke 

n  nature's  social  uiiiou. 

And  juatifiea  that  ill  opinion, 

WhiiA  makes  thee  Bli 

At  me,  thy  poor  earth-born  compau 

And  feliow-niortal! 

I  doubt n 

,  whyles,  but  thou  may  t 

What  the 

?  poor  bedstie,  tbou  ma 

Adaimeu 

ckerinathrave 

's  a  sma'  request: 

III  get. h 

Aud  never  miai't! 

■nu^eeh 

t  housie,  too,  in  ruin  1 

Its  silly  w 

ADdnaelhios,aow,tobiganewan 

U'  logsage  &™n 

And  bleak 

December's  winds  ensm 

Baithsndl  and  keen 

Thou  saw 

the  fields  laid  liare  and  n 

And  wear 

Andcosie 

here,  beneath  Uiebiist, 

■ITrou  thought  to  dwc 

Nowtho 

u's  tum'd  out  for  a'  thy  trouble 

But  house  oc  hold. 

To  tliolo  the  winter's  sleety  dribble. 

Audcrai,reucbcauldl 

But,  Mo 

usie,  tbon  art  no  thy  lane. 

S  foresight  may  be  vain; 

lliebes 

kid  schemes  o'  mice  and  men. 

Gang  aft  a-gley. 

And  lea 

us  nought  but  grief  and  pain. 

Torprorais'djoy. 

Slill  tlio 

art  blest,  eompar'dni'mel 

Theprei. 

nt  only  loucheth  thee ; 

But,  och 

I  b«ckwM>l  cost  my  e'a. 
On  prospects  drcarl 

And  fori 

rard,tho'Icannasee, 

I  guess  and  fear. 

^^Iiile  fotthless  sna>i 
The  thresher's  wear; 


■oaring  play  (83), 

ai-ds  green, 
Ik  step  betray 


Fai-i' the  west, 
a  apeuce  (68),  rii;lit  peusivelie, 
Igaedtorest. 


Tiie  auld  clay  biggin'; 
And  heard  therestlessrattuns  squei^ 
About  the  riggin'. 

All  in  this  mottle,  misty  dime, 
I  backward  mns'd  on  wasted  time, 
How  I  had  spent  my  youthfu'  ptinn 
And  done  liae  thm^ 


For  fools  t 


While  here,  half-raad,  I 


It  harkit, 
lamsrket, 
and  clatkit 

lalf-fed.  half-sarUt 


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THE  m 

SIOS.                                                  X25 

IgtsHed.mntt'ring,blackhe>dI  coatl 

Still,  as  in  Scottish  story  read. 

And  benv'd  on  liigh  my  waukit  loof. 

To  swear  by  a'  yon  starry  roof. 

To  ev'iy  nobler  virtue  bred. 

Or  some  mh  ailh, 

And  poLsh'd  grace. 

Till  my  last  breath— 

By  stately  tow'r  or  palace  fair. 

-Wbeii,  dick !  the  strin^r  the  snick  HA  drnv; 

BoUnCTW™  f^herres.  he%''and  there. 

And,  jee  1  the  door  gaed  to  the  wa'; 

I  could  discern ; 

And  by  my  ingle-lowe  I  aaw, 

NowWeerin'brighli 

Some  seem'd  to  unise.  some  seem'd  to  darf^ 

Come  full  in  sighe. 

My  heart  did  slowini  transport  feel, 

Ye  needom  doubt,  I  lidd  my  vbisht ; 
mie  in&ut  aich,  half-fonn'd,  wai  otusht ; 

To  see  a  race  (ti8)  iieroic  uheel. 

(„  sturdy  hloas; 
While  back-reeoibug  seem'd  to  reel 

1  ^ar'd  03  eerie'a  I'd  been  duaht 
InsomerfdKlen, 

TOien  sweet,  like  modest  worth,  she  blnsbt. 

And  stepped  hen. 

His  Country's  Savionr  (C9),  mark  Mm  wdll 

Green,  slender,  leaf-clad  holly-bou-hs 
Were  twisted  !»racefu' roimd  her  broifsj 

The  cliief  on  Sark  (7i  |  who  glorious  fell 
In  hi^b  command; 

And  he  whom  ruthless  fates  eipel 
ll,s.uiiivelai,d. 

I  took  her  for  iome  Scottish  Muse, 
By  that  same  token, 
And  come  to  atop  those  reckless  vows, 

Wou'd  soon  been  broken. 

There,  where  a  sceptr-d  Rctish  shade  (72) 

A  "hidr-brain'd.  sentimental  trace" 

Swlk'd  round  liis  asl>es  lowly  kid. 

Was  strongly  marked  in  her  face  j 

I  nmtk'd  a  mixrtifll  race,  portray'd 

A  wildiy-witty,  rustic  Rrace 

In  mlours  strong; 

Shone  full  upon  her ; 

Bold,  soldier.featur'd,  undismayed 

Her  eye,  ev'n  mm'd  on  empty  space. 

llity  strode  along. 

Be«n'd  teen  with  honour. 

Tliro"  many  a  "ild  romantic  grote  ff3). 

Down  flow'd  her  rote  a  tartan  sheen. 

Near  many  a  licnnit-fancy'd  cove 

mil  halt  a  leg  was  serimply  aeeu  ; 
Aodsnchaleg!  my  bonnie  Jean 

{Yil  haunts  for  friendship  or  for  love). 

Could  only  peer  it; 
Bae  thought^  aae  taper,  light  and  clean. 

None  dae  came  near  it. 
Her  mantle  lar^,  of  greenish  huc^ 

An^ediuJge.IsFiwhimrove, 

Dispell  sibg  good. 

With  deep^trnck  rei'erentia!  awe  (74), 
The  leariicil  sire  and  son  I  saw  (7a), 

My  gosing  wonder  duefly  drew ; 

To  Nature's  God  mid  Nature's  law 

They  gace  their  loi«, 

A  lustre  grand  ;^ 

'This,  an  its  source  and  end  to  draw  i 

And  aeem'd,  to  my  astonisU'd  ™w. 

■ll«t.  to  adore. 

Awdl-knownland. 

Here,  livers  in  the  sea  were  lost , 

Brydone'a  brave  ward  (78)  I  well  could  spy 

There,  mountains  to  the  shies  n-ere  tost : 

Beuealh  old  Scolia's  smiling  eye; 

Here.  tnmbUiig  billows  mark'd  the  coast 

Who  call'd  on  Fame,  low  standing  by. 

With  surging  foam 

■1 0  hand  bim  on, 

miere,  chatant  shone  Art's  lofty  hoaat. 

Where  many  a  patriot-name  on  high 

The  hitdlj  dome. 

And  hero  shone. 

Here,  Doon  pmir'd  down  his  far-fetch'd  floods; 

aiiere,  well-fed  Irwine  ttarelv  thuds : 

Auld  henuit  Avr  staw  thro'  liis  woods. 

With  mnsinjr-deep,  astonish'd  slire. 

On  to  the  shore, 

I  view'd  the  heav'nly-seeming  Exir ; 

And  many  ■  lesser  torrent  scuds. 

A  whisp'ring  throb  did  witness  bear 

Of  kindred  sweet. 

Jyiw  in  a  sandy  >  ulley  spread. 

When  wkh  an  elrler  sistets's  air 

An  ancient  borough  rear'd  her  head  (6?) ; 

She  did  me  great 

Ho,t,db,  Google 


126  BUKSS 

"  All  hail  I  my  own  inspired  batd ! 
In  me  thy  uotive  Miibp  re|^i^ ! 
Nor  longer  moiira  tiiy  ^te  ia  imn], 

'flins  poorlj  loiv '. 
I  come  to  ^ve  (lice  sucJi  regard 

Know,  tlie  great  genius  of  this  land 
Hsa  many  a  li^lil,  aiiriitl  banil. 
Who,  all  benearli  his  hij-h  commiud. 


j  POETICAL  woaKa. 


careful  til 


Of  n 


hard; 


A  guide  and  guard. 
Of  these  am  I— Coila  tny  name  (77) ; 

id  this  district  aa  miae  I  chiim,        [feme. 
Iiere  ouce  the  Campbells  <7S),  <Adeb  of 
Held  ruling  poVr : 
I  raaik'd  thy  embryo  timeful  flam^ 


Some  teaeh  ll 


a  darliti^core. 


•Mong  aweUbig  flwids  of  reeking  gor^ 
They,  ardcut,  kinrllin^  spirits,  pout ; 
Or,  "mid  the  raiial  senate's  roar. 

They,  sisrhtless,  stand. 
To  mend  the  hone»t  puEriot-lore, 

Aud  grace  the  iiand. 
And  wlien  the  bard,  or  hoary  sage. 

The;  bind  the  wild,  iiuetic  rage 

In  e..u^y. 
Or  point  theinf      '  -  - 


Ihill  oi 


Hen< 


[  saw  thee  seek  the  ioimding  shore, 
IJelighled  with  the  dAshiug  roar ; 
Or  n-heu  the  north  liis  lleei-y  store 

Drofe  throufih  tlio  sky, 
[  saw  grim  natnte's  visage  lioac 

Sliuck  thy  young  eye. 
Or  when  tlie  deep  green-mantled  earth 


d  joy  ail 


Inev 


WitiTbouudl 
When  ripenM  fields,  and  as 
Called  forth  the  reaper's  tu 
'     w  ihee  leave  their  eieni 


Tiie  sceptic's  bays. 
To  lower  orders  are  aasiim'd 
The  humbler  rnuks  of  human-kind. 


«n  yellow  waves  the  heavy  grain, 

le  teach  to  meiiomte  the  plain. 
With  titlajni-akifl ; 

1  some  instmet  the  shepbcrd-tnuD, 
Blythe  o'er  tlio  hill. 


When ) 


uthftil  lo 


Keen-sliivermg  shot  thy  neriea  along. 
Those  accents,  grateful  to  thy  tongue, 

Th'  adored  Kama, 
I  taught  tliee  how  to  pour  in  song. 

To  sootiie  thy  dame. 
I  saw  thy  pulse's  madileniiig-  play. 
Wild  eeiid  tliee  pleasure's  de;"i 


:d  by  Full 


,Uy 


Jr-ray, 


paasmn  drive 
ight  tliut  led  astray 
Was  light  from  Heaven. 


TiUni 


■allm 


Thy  fame  estends ; 
And  some,  the  pride  of  Coila'a  plains 
"— ome  thy  friends. 

To  paiiit  with  Thomson's  landscape  ^ow; 
Or  nuke  the  bosom-jnelting  throe. 

With  Sheiiatowe'sart; 
)UI,  with  Gray,  the  moiing  flow 


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THE  AUTHOB'S  EARNEST  CET. 


Tet,  all  beneath  the  unrivaD'd  rois, 

The  lowly  itoiay  aweptly  blows; 

TTu/  large  the  forest's  monarch  throwi 


Then  never  miuranr  nor  repine ; 
Strii-B  in  thy  liumhle  sphere  to  shine ; 
And,  tniBt  me,  not  Potosi's  mine. 

Not  king's  regard, 
Cac  ffive  A  hhsa  overmatching  thine, 

A  rustic  bJrd. 
To  gite  my  connsels  all  in  one — 
Thy  tuneful  llnme  still  enreful  Ian; 
Preserve  the  d^iity  of  man, 

^'ith  Boul  erect; 
And  trurt,  the  nnicerset  plan 

Wilt  all  protect 
And  wear  thou  this  " — she  solemn  said 
And  bound  the  hoHy  round  myhe^: 
The  poUah'd  leaves,  and  berries  red. 

Did  rustling  play ; 
And,  like  s  passing  thought,  (lie  fled 

lu  light  may. 


^t  Snlijnr's  fiirncst  Cri)  anil  |5raiitc 


And  duucely  manage  our  affun 

To  you  a  nmple  Bordie^s  prayers 
Are  humbly  sent. 
Al»a !  my  mopit  Muse  is  henrse  < 
Your  honour's  Iieart  iri'  grief  'twad  pierce 
To  see  her  aiitiii'  on  lier  a— 

And  Kriecliin'  out  prosaic  verse. 
And  lite  to  bnut  I 
Tell  them  wha  hae  the  chief  direction, 
Scotland  and  me's  in  greet  affliction, 


And  rouse  them  up  to  stroi 
And  move  th 


in  Fiemiei  youth  (8( 
■d  truth, 
cotland'?  drouth. 


Now  stand  as  lightly  by  yonr  tack  / 
Ne'er  claw  your  lug,  and  fidge  yonr  bed^ 

And  bum  and  haw; 
But  raise  your  arm,  and  tell  your  crack 


Paint  Scotland  greetuig  ower  her  thrissla. 
Her  mutchkin  stoup  as  tooni's  a  whiSBle; 
And  d-mn'd  excisemen  in  a  bussle, 


Then  on  the  titber  hand  present  her, 
A  blackguard  smuggler,  i^lit  bebint  her. 
And  clieck-for-chow,  a  diurlte  viutuer, 
Colleagumg  join. 


And  plundered  o'  her  hindmost  great 
By  gallotvs  knaves? 


ie  Slootgumcries  fight  ISl), 
Or  gall  like  Bosuell  (8^), 
w  tigh^ 


And  tie  some 
God  bless  your  honours,  can 
"  iud,  Buld,  cantie  cjrliil 
lOget  warmly  to  your 

And  ten  tbem,  with  a  patrio 


Dempster  (83),  a  true  bhie  Sci 
Ihee,  aith-delesting,  chaste  I 
hat  glib-gabbet  lliglila' 


feace't. 


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138 


BURNS'S  POETICAL  WORKa. 


ErakiDe  (87),  a  (prnikle  Noriand  billie; 
True  Cttinpbella,  I-tederick  (B81  Hid  ll»y  (8! 
Aud  livingatoiie,  the  btudd  Sir  Willie ; 

And  iBonie  ilhera, 
Whcm  BuM  J>S!OOBilienea  or  I'ully 

May'u  oun  for  briijien. 
See'  aodger  Hng;h,  my  natclimeii  sleated. 
If  bardies  e'ec  sre  rejireaented ; 
I  kpn  if  Ibat  yout  sword  were  wented, 

Ye'dleDdahand, 
But  aben  tlieie's  oiigbt  to  aa;  snenC  it. 


Aiid  if  she  promise  euld  or  jonag 

To  tak  ilicir  pan, 
Tbo'  b;  the  neck  sbe  sbould  be  Btrung; 

now,  ye  chosen  Kve-and-Forty, 
alilL  your  mither'a  heart  aupport  ye; 
,  though  a  minislcf  grovr  dorty, 
Aiid  kick  your  place, 
siiap  your  fingers  poor  aud  hrarty, 

God  blesa  your  honour!  n'  yont  days, 
Wi'  50UTS  0'  kail  and  btais  o'  claiae, 
111  spite  o'  a'  Uie  thievish  kaea. 


This  whije  she's  been  in  cninkiis  mood. 
Her  lost  militia  fit'd  het  bluid ; 
{DhI  iia  tliey  never  mair  do  guid, 

llay'dherthat  iihikie!) 
And  uoT  she's  like  to  run  reil-u  ud 

And  L— d  I  if  auce  they  pit  her  till'^ 


Por  G-d  sake,  sits  I  tl 
And  atraik  her  cannic 
Ajid  to  the  mueklc  hi 


To  get  renieai 
Xon  iU-tongu'd  tinkler,  Chnr 
May  taunt  you  wi'  his  jeera  i 
But  gie  himt  bet,  my  heartj 

An   send  him  to  his  dicing  1 

And  sportid'  I 

Tell  yon  guid  bluid  o'  anid  G 


[Boconnock's(91), 
auld  Nause  Tin- 


Wad  kindly  seek. 


inodts(94). 


Not  eruditii 

taastie  queer  h 

The  Coahtio 


tdi-potch, 
onguej 


POSTCRIPT. 
I«t  half-starv'd  akves  in  warmer  aMei 

uid  Scotland  ne'er  euVws, ' 

But  blytliB  and  frisky. 
See  eyes  her  freebom.  mutial  l»yt 

Tak  all  their  vhisky. 
tVhat  tho'  their  Fbmbns  kinder  wanna, 

le  ftagtancB  blooms  Bud  beauty  charms! 
tVheu  wretches  range,  in  famish'd  saarms, 

The  scented  groves. 
Or  hounded  forth,  dishonour  arms 

Id  hungry  drores. 
Tlieir  sini'a  a  burlliea  on  their  shoulther  j 
Tliey  doiTTin  bide  the  siiuk  o'  powther ; 
Their  baiddtst  thought's  a  hauk'ring  awitber 

Tu  Blan'  or  riii. 
Till  skclp — a  shot— they're  ofF.  a'throwther, 

Tu  save  tlieir  skin. 
But  bring  a  Scotsman  frae  his  hill. 
Clap  in  his  check  a  Highland  gill. 
Say  auch  ia  royal  George's  nilL 

And  there's  tlie  foe, 
tie  has  nae  thought  but  bow  to  kill 

Naecanhl,  faint-hearted  doubtingateaao  him; 
Dealli  coiuea — vi'  fearless  eye  ha  aeeahimi 
Wi'  bluidy  h™'  a  Bchsime  giea  him ; 

And  when  he  fa's. 
His  latest  draught  o'  brcatliiu'  lea's  him 

Sagea  their  solemn  een  may  sieek. 

And  phyaicaily  causes  seek. 


I'li 


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THE     JOLLY    BEGGARS. 


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Ho,t,db,  Google 


SCOTCH  DHIi-K. 


^tiirli  llrinlt. 

"  Gie  him  strong  ilrink.  until  he  iriBk, 
And  nouoF  RUM  to  Sre^H  tlnld. 
There  let  h^m  IniisQ,  tmd  Acep  carouse, 
Till  he  forgets  liis  Iocfe  or  debts. 

SOWMrOK'fl  PliOVKllB,  xisi,  B,  J, 
I;bt  otber  poets  raise  a  fcaras. 

And  oribbit  naniea  and  stories  vtnek  u^ 
And  gmte  our  log, 

lah^the  juice  Scotch lieec can  msk  as, 
Ingliisof  juK. 

Oh  tlou,  my  Mtiae  I  euidauld  Scotch  drink; 

"Whether  thro'  wimjihn'  woraia  thmi  jink, 

Or,  lichlj  bronn,  ream  o'er  the  btinl^ 

jbispiro  lae,  tiil  I  hsp  nnd  nink. 

To  wng  thy  name  t 
Let  hi^ky  wheat  the  han^hs  adom^ 
Ar.d  lull  set  up  their  awnic  horn. 
And  peas  aud  beans,  at  e'en  or  mora, 

PerfuniB  the  plain, 
Leeie  n»  on  thee,  John  Bsrlejcom, 
Thou  king  o'  grain  I 
On  thee  aft  Scotland  chows  her  cood, 
bi  touple  scones,  the  oale  o'  food  I 

Wi'  kail  and  beef; 
But  when  thonpouta  thy  strong  heart's  blood, 

There  thon  shines  chief. 
Food  fills  the  wanie,  and  keeps  iis  hvin' ; 
ISio'  life's  a  gift  no  worth  receivin'. 
When  heavy  dragg*!!  wi'  pine  and  grievin* ; 

Bnt,  od'd  by  thee. 
Hie  wheels  o'  life  gae  down-hill  icrievin', 

Wr  ratiliu'  glee, 
ThoH  clears  the  head  o'  doited  T^ar ; 
Thou  cheers  the  heart  o'  drooping  Care ; 

Thou  eren  brightens  dark  Despair 
Wi'  gloomy  aniile. 

Wi'  gentles  thou  erects  thy  head  (B6) ; 
Yet  humbly  kind  in  time  o'  need. 


Thou  art  the  life  o'  public  haunts ; 

But  thee,  what  were  our  fiuis  and  lantaf 

Ev'n  godly  meetings  o'  the  aaunts. 

By  thee  iuspir'd, 
^Vhen  gaping  they  besiege  the  trats  (98), 

Ate  doubly  fii'd. 
That  merry  nifrht  we  get  the  com  in. 
Oh  sweetly  then  thou  reams  the  horn  inl 
Or  reekln'  on  n  new-year  morning 


When  Volcon  gies  his  tellows  breath, 
And  ploughmen  gather  wi'  their  graith. 
Oh  rare!  to  see  Ihee  lizs  and  freaih 

I'  th'  lugget  cnup ! 
Then  Sumewin  csimea  on  hke  death 

Nae  mercy,  then,  for  air  or  steel ; 
The  brawi'iie,  bainie,  ploughman  chial. 
Brings  hard  owrehip,  wi'  sturdy  wheel. 

The  strong  forehan 
Tilt  block  and  studdie  ring  imd  re 


How  fumblin'  cuifs  their  dearies  slight  3 
Wae  worth  the  name  [ 

Nae  howdie  gets  a  social  night, 

Or  plack  ftae  them. 

■When  neehora  anger  at  a  plea. 

And  juat  aa  wud  as  wod  can  bo,. 

How  easy  can  the  batley-laee 

Cement  the  quandV 

Its  aye  the  eheapesi  lairyer's  fee. 


E'er  spiet  her  price. 
iVae  worth  that  hiandy,  burning  trash  I 
?e\l  aourceo'  moniea  pain  and  brash  ! 
Cwina  luonie  a  poor,  doylt.  drucken  hash, 

0'  half  his  days  ; 
Ind  sends,  beside,  auld  Scotland's  lash 

To  her  warat  faes. 
Ye  Scot!,  wha  wish  auld  Scotland  wej. 
Ye  chief,  to  you  my  tale  I  tell. 
Poor  placklesa  deiSs  like  mysd. 

It  sets  you  id, 
Wi'  hitter,  dearthfn'  nines  to  mell. 


Hisw. 


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BUENS'S  POETICiL  WORKS. 


Wliatwialahissmntle^ 


Ohwhiebyl  : 
Accept  a  Bari 
When  wsntii] 


Tbee,Ferintflslil  oli  sadly  lost  [  (09) 
Scotland  lanieat  frae  coast  to  coast  I 
Now  colic  grips,  fliiil  liBrkiii'  hoaat, 

ilay  km  ua  a' ; 
For  loyal  Forbes'  charler'd  boast, 

"nae  curst  horae-leechea  o'  th'  Eicise 


And  lump  Uiem  aye  Iheiritlier ; 
The  E«id  Klchtcaua  is  a  lool, 

The  &i-Aa  Wise  aoither ; 
The  cleanest  eoro  ihnt  cjf  r  waa  dl 

Bo  neW  a  tellowrfieatiire  slight' 
For  tanfloni  flla  o'  dufiin." 

Oh  ye  wha  are  sae  g»id  yonrael. 

Sac  pioiis  and  sae  holy, 
Te've  Douj-ht  to  do  but  mark  and 


miehe 


I  hpp-nr's 


ring  still. 


And  still  the  dap  pLays  dati 
Hesc  me,  ye  venerable  core, 

Tli»t  treiioent  pass  dunce  Wiadom's  dooi 

For  glaiket  Folly's  portals ; 
I,  for  their  thoughtfess,  c-Lteless  sskes. 

Would  here  propoi^e  d.feiicea, 
Th«r  donsie  tricka,  their  black  mialakes, 

Tbeii;  foilinga  and  m 


!  shudder  at  the  iiifler. 


Tliiii 


igated  pnlae 


What  raging 

That  still  eternal  u-— , - 
Wl'  ^lind  luid  tide  lair  i'  your  tail, 

Eislit  on  je  scud  your  sea-way  j 
But  in  the  teetb  o'  baltb  to  aad. 

It  niaka  an  unco  lee-u^. 
Bee  social  life  and  glee  sit  down. 

All  joyous  and  UN  1  bin  king, 
Till,  quite  transmugrified,  they're  ( 

Debauchery  and  drinking: 
Oh  would  they  stay  to  calculate 

Or  your  more  dreaded  hell  to  atati 

Ye  high,  exalted,  virtuous  d^mea, 
-Red  ui  ■       


or  frailty  names, 


A  dour  lor'd  lad,  canvenie*nce  anug 

A  treacherous  inclination — 
But,  let  me  whisper  i'  your  lug. 


Though  they  may  gang  a  kciinln'  wranj 

To  step  iiside  is  hu^nan : 
One  pouit  must  siill  be  greatly  dai^ 

The  moving  why  (hey  do  it ; 
And  just  as  lamely  can  ye  mark. 

How  far  perhaps  they  rue  it. 
Who  ntade  the  heart,  'tis  He  alona 

Decidedly  can  try  us, 
He  knows  each  churd— its  various  tonti 


it  the  bdance  let's 


1  ^anrstiTi's  flcgt]. 


Has  anld  Kibnami 


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DESPONDENCY. 


KJlDiarnock  long  may  gmnt  anrl  grane. 
And  sifrh,  and  sob,  Biid  greet  her  lane. 
And  deed  her  hums,  man,  wife,  aud  we 

In  mouming  weed ; 
To  desth,  she's  dearly  paid  the  kmie — 

Turn  SBiueon's  dead ! 
The  brethren  o'  the  mystic  level 
May  bing  their  head  m  woefu'  bevel, 
THiile  bf  their  nose  the  tean  vill  revel. 

Like  ony  had ; 
Death's  gi'ra  the  lodge  an  anco  devel — 

When  (rinter  miifliea  up  his  cloak. 
And  binds  the  mire  bke  a  rock ; 
When  to  the  1och9  the  cnrhxs  flock 


Now  safe  the  st 


Te  cootie  rooorcocks,  icousely  cr 
Ye  maukina,  cock  your  fml  fu'  bi 

Wthouten  dread; 
Your  mortal  fae  is  now  avia' — 

'i^am  Srunsou's  def 
That  woefit  moura  be  ever  monr 


While  poiuters  roi 

Fra. 

But,  och !  he  gna 


Now  eVry  auld  wife,  greelin',  rfattei 

Taia  Siuoaon's  dead ! 
Owre  msiiy  a  weaty  bag  he  liiupit. 


Till  couard  dealh  bi 


fltew  the  mortal  trigger 
Wi'wMl-alm'dbeed; 
el"    he    cried,    sud    owre    did 

Tam  Samson's  dead! 
mlermoum'dabrither; 
in  youth  bera<>an'd  a  father ; 
ey  atane,  fimang  the  heather, 

Marks  out  his  head, 
13  has  wrote,  in  rhyming  bletlie^ 

le  lies,  in  lasting  rest ; 

in  his  mould'ring  breasC 

i'  muirfowl  bigi  her  nest 

To  hatch  and  breed; 

TaiD  Samson's  dead  I 


lad  twa  fiiiits,  or  inaube  three. 
Yet  what  remead? 

Tam  Sanisoii's  deadl 

™  Samson's  «cet  worn  clay  here 
TecaBtnijc  zealots  snore  him  1 

Ye'U  mend  or  ye  win  near  liim. 

FEB  CONTKA. 

Go,  Fame,  and  canter  like  a  filly 
llito'  e  [he  sweets  audneuks  o'  Killie 
Tell  et'ry  social,  honest  billj- 

To  cease  his  grie™-. 
For  yet,  nnskaitli'd  by  death's  gleg  go 


den  more  than  1  can  bear, 
I  me  down  and  sigh ; 
s !  thou  art  a  gallmg  load, 
a  rough,  a  weary  roa.i, 
wretthes  such  as  I L 

What  sick'nii^  scenes  appear  I 
^at  sorrows  yet  may  pierce  me  thn^. 
Too  justly  I  may  l^  I 


Hoaoin,  Google 


BCRSS'S  POEnCAL  WORKS. 


Stin  oriRK,  desp>IHn|^ 


Mjw. 


1  close  u> 


But  with  the  dosing  tomb  I 
Hsppy,  ye  sona  of  busy  life. 
Who,  equal  to  tbe  buaUiiig  (ttifc, 

No  other  view  regard  ! 
Ev'n  when  the  wisl^  end's  denied. 
Yet  whBe  the  hngy  means  ate  xAieA, 

They  bring  their  own  tewam ! 
Whilst  I,  ft  bope-abandon'd  wight^ 

Unfitted  with  an  aim. 
Meet  ei''ty  9»d  returning  night 
And  joyless  mom  the  saniej 
You,  busthng,  aaJ  joatling^ 

Forget  Biah  grief  and  paiai 
Iliaclesi,  yetrejilesa. 
Find  every  prospect  rain. 
Hov  bleat  the  Bolilary's  lot 
Who,  all-ibrgettiiig,  all-ibtgirt. 

Within  hix  hiuuble  cell. 
The  cavern  wild  with  tfliigling  roots, 
Kts  o'er  his  iien'lf-!;;ather'd  fruits. 

Beside  his  crystal  Wbll  I 
Or  hsply  to  his  ev'iiiug  thought. 

By  unfre(]ueii  ted  stream, 
Tbe  vays  of  lueii  ae  distant  bronght, 
A  faiiit  coUecied  dreain ; 
IVhile  praising'  and  ndiins 

His  thoughts  to  heav'n  on  high 
As  wand'ring,  nieaiid'rins, 
He  liewa  the  Bolernu  sty. 
Than  I,  no  lonely  hermit  pWd 
"Where  never  human  fnotitep  tcao'd. 


Lets  at 


0  pUy  the  pait ; 


The  lucky  moment  to 
And  just  to  stop,  and  juai 

With  selt-respecting  ar 
But,  ah!  those  (ileasutes, 

Which  I  too  teeiily  las 
Eie  aolirary  can  deapise. 

Can  want,  aiid  yet  l)e  b 
He  needs  not,'--  ■ 


Or  hi 


e  heetls  iiot^ 
ir  hate. 


Whilst  I  here,  mu 
At  perfidy  ingr 
Ohl  entiablB,  early  days. 
When  donciog  thoughtless  pleasure's  maie. 

To  aire,  to  guilt  unknown  I 
How  ill  ejchang'd  for  riper  times. 
To  ftel  the  follies,  or  the  crimes. 

Of  others  or  my  own! 
Te  tiny  elves  that  guiltless  sport 

Like  hnnets  in  the  bush. 


OBEKT  AIKIN,  E9Q.  (100 

inie  Abort  uud  simi^  amjala  of  t^  poocv^ 

(105)-GiiAr, 
My  loved,  my  honout'd,  nrach  respected 


Nom 
With  hi 


at  pride  I  si 


h  selfish 


My  dearest  meed,  a  friend's  esteem  mid 

To  yon  1  sing,  ui  sim()le  Scottish  lays. 

The  lowly  iiain  in  life's  seqneiter'd 

scene;  [ways; 

The  native  feehngs  strong,  the  guileless 

^Vhat  Aitken  in  a  cottage  would  have 

been ;  [there,  I  ween. 

1 1  tlio'  his  worth  nnknowu,  far  happier 

November  chill    blows    loud  wi'  anjry 


plcu^h; 

repose; 

Tlie  black'ning  trains  <f  craws 

to  their 

The  toil-worn  Cutter  frae  his  labo 

or  goes. 

Tliis  n^lii  hii  weeMy  moil  is  at 

an  end, 

CoLecta  his  spades,  hia  mallocka. 

and  his 

hoes. 

[spend. 

Hoping  the  mom  in  ease  and 

nd  weary,  o'er  the  moor,  his  coui 

sedocs 

hameward  bend. 

At  length  his  lonely  cot  appears 

mview. 

Beneath  the  shelter  of  au  aged 

Th'  expectaut  wee  things  toddliu 

stacher 

thro'                                    [a 

ndglee. 

To  meet  their  dad,  wi'flichteri 

Bis  wee  bit  ingle,  bliuhiu'  bounily, 

His    cleon    heai^Hi-staiie,    hia 

Ihriftie 

Tbe  lisping  infant  prattling  on  his  knee, 

Doea    a'  his  weary  kSuigh  and  care 

beguile,  [his  toil. 

And  malies  him  quite  forget  his  labour  and 

Belyve,  theelder  biumscome  drapping  in. 

At  sefiiceoiit  amang  the  farmera  roun'. 

Some  ea,'  the  pleugh,  some  herd,  some 


Hoifdb,  Google 


THE  COTTER'S  SATURDAY  NIGHT, 
d  brothers  luid  ^i 


Tbe  social  hours,  Bwift-wing'il,  u 

Each  tells  tiie  niicos  that  he 
The  parents,  partiol,  eye  their 

Anticipation  forward  pohitE  thi 

Tlie  taother,  wl'  her  oeedle  and  he 

Gars  auld  elaes  look  amaiat  e 

the  new; 

The  &ther  miles 

ThNT  master's  and  their 

The  younkers  a'  are  wai 

And  n  ■       ■   ■ 


wi'  adojauition  due. 


[play; 


"And  oh !  be  sure  to  feat  the  Lord  alwaj ! 
And  niind  your  dut;,  duly,  morn  aud 

Xeat  in  temptation's  path  ye  gang  astray, 

Implore   His    counsel    sjid    assisting 

nii^ht :  Lord  aright ! " 

They  never  sought  in  viun  that  sought  tlia 


But,  hatkl 


s  gently  to  the 


Wi'  heart-struck  ansious  eare,  inquires  liis 
While  Jenny  halDins  is  afraid  to  speak ; 
eel  pleas'd  the  mother  hears  it's  uae  wild 

Wi'  kindly  welcome,  Jenny  brings  him 

A  etrappin  vonth ;  he  taka  the  melhet's 

Blithe  Jenny  sees  the  visit's  no  ill  ta'cn ; 

The  lailier  cracks  of  horses,  pleugha, 

[joy. 


Oh  happy  love !— where  love  like  thia  is 

foimd !  [compare  I 

Oh  heart-felt  raptures  1    bUss  beyond 


ve  paced  much  this  neary,  mortal  round. 
And  sage  eipecience  bids  me  this  de- 
clare— ■  [apare, 
[f  Heaven  a  drai^ht  of  heavenly  Fleosiua 
rdial  in  tliis  melancholy  vale. 


TTa  when  a  youthful. 


eathe  oi 


ender 


teneat^  the 


[the  ev'ning  gale." 
-  -'■-im  that  scent* 
at  hears  a  heart, 


[smooth! 


[food; 
,  chief  of  Scotla'a 
vkie  does  afford, 


And  flfi  he's  prest,  and  aft  he  ea's  it  guid 
'Hie  frugal  wifie,  garrulous,  will  tell. 


The  cheerfn'  supper  done. 

wi'serioi 

IS  face. 

lliey,  round  the  ingle,  for 

macirch 

,idn 

grace, 

Thebigha'-biblcBuce  his  father's 

pride; 

His  bonuet  reVrently  is  la 

ilcside. 

His  Ivart  haffets  wearm 

thill  and  bare; 

Those  strains  that  once  di 
He  wales  a  portion  with 

nZioQ 

judidou 

cere; 

jid  "Let  us  worship  GoDl 

,  with 

solemn  air. 

niey  chsnt  their  artless  notes  in 

simple 

guise; 

raim; 

They  tune  their  hearts,!) 

fMthenaieat 

>a  Buiidue'a  ui 

J  Martyrs,  worthy  of  the 


Or  noble  Elgin  h 
The  s«eetest 


1  these,  Italian  trills    i 


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131  EUENS'S  POETICAL  WOKES. 

The  priest-like  tathsr  reads  tlie  aacr 
page—  [higl 

How  Abrem  was  the  friend  ot  God  i 
Or,  Moaea  bade  etcrnfll  warfare  wage 

With  Aiaalek'a  ungradoiis  progeny  j 
Ot  how  the  tojal  baw  did  groaning  lie 

Beneath  the  stroke  ot  Heaven's  avenging 


pathetic  plaint,  and  wailing  cry ; 


Perhaps    the    Christian    yolume   ia  thi 

How  guiltless  blood  for  giiilty  man  wai 
Hovr  He,  who  bote  In  Heaven  ibe  aecont 

Had  not  on  earth  vhereon  to  lay 
Ho»  his  Urst  followers  and  sei 
The  precepts  sage  tlieyurotc  tomauy 


land: 
How  he,  who  lone  ii 


That  make 


[abroad ! 

lat  home.rever'd 

lut  the  breath  ot 

[God" 

le  nobleat  work  of 

i,  in  fair  vircue'a  heavenly  road, 

age  leiives  the  palace  Ssi  behind ; 

lordbng's  pomp  ? — a  cnnibroua 

[kind 

ts  of  hell,  in  wickedness  tefin'd! 


iped, 


FaCmos  baniahed, 
nighty  augel  standi 
in's  dnom  pronounced 


riumphaot 
_    [days: 


There  ever  bask  in  ut 

Ho  more  to  sigh,  or  shed  tlie  bitter  ten 
Ti^her  hymning  thar  Creator's  praia^ 

In  such  society,  yet  still  more  dear ; 
While  circling  time  moves  round  in  an  etei 

Corapar'd  with  thiSi  how  poor  Religion' 

Jrrde, 
In  all  the  pomp  of  method,  and  of  art. 


In  all  the  pom|i  of  methoi 
When  men  msplay  to  congr 


roain'd  through  Wallace's    ua- 

■Who  dsr'd  to  nobly  stem  tyrannic  pride. 
Or  nobly  die  the  second  glorious  par^ 

(The  patriot's  God,  peculiarly  thou  art. 
His  friend,  uia^u-er,  guardian,  and  re- 


Oh  never, 

£ut  St 

hard 

In  bright  Eu 


realm  deaert ; 
and  the  patriot 
[guard! 


npona  strain,  the  aacerdotal  stolej 
V,  in  some  collage  fat  apart, 
!ar,  well  pleas'd,  the  language  of 


And  in  his  book  of  life  the  in 
Then  homeward  all  take  off 
way; 
The  youngling  cottagers  ret 


That  He,  who  stilla  the  riven's  clam' 

And  decks  the  lily  feir  in  flow'ry  pr 

\t'ould,  in  the  way  hia  wisdom  sees 


In  B  3Bnniitiiiii  fflaisii. 


Wes,  modest,  etimson-tipped  flow'r, 
'iTuiu's  met  me  in  an  evil  hour ; 

araang  the  alouro 
/  slender  atom : 
To  spare  thee  now  is  past  my  pow'i. 
Thou  bouuie  gem. 
10  thy  neibor  >i 


.    Theboi 


ie  lark,  o 


i's'peckl'd  breast, 
When  up-ward-springing,  blythe,  1 
Tie  purj^g  east. 


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EPISTLE  TO  A  YOUNG  FRIEND. 


Cinld  bl*w  t'^ebilier-biting  north 
Upon  thy  f'rly,  humble  birth ; 
Y«t  cheeif  jUy  thou  glinted  forth 

Amid  the  stoim, 
Scaite  reat'd  above  the  parent  earth 

Thy  tender  fonn. 
The  flanntinp;  flowera  onr  erardeoa  yield. 
High  fhelt'ring  noods  and  via's  maun  shkl 
But  thou,  beneath  the  random  bield 


Adtffn  the  hietie 


^ibblp-field. 


Here,  in  thy  ataoty  mantle  clad. 
Thy  Bnawie  bosom  sun-ward  spread. 
Thou  lifts  thy  unnEsuming  head. 


Sweet  Aow'ret  of  the  mnd  shade! 
By  love's  simphcity  bctrfly'd. 

And  guileless  trust, 


Tilli 


e,hke  I 


Low  i'  the  di 


is  lud 


Such  ia  the  fnte  of  simple  bsrd. 

On  tiie'B  rougii  ocean  luokless  starr'd  I 

Unslilfnl  he  to  note  the  card 

Of  prudent  lore. 
Till  billows  rage,  and  gnles  btov  bard, 

And  whelm  Mm  o'er! 
Such  fete  to  anffeiing  worth  ia  giv'n, 
Who  long  with  wnnts  and  woes  baa  strirti. 
By  human  pride  or  cunning  driv'n 

To  misery's  brink, 
Tili  «rench'd  of  erty  stay  but  Hcav'n, 

He,  min'd,  sinii  1 
Ev'n  tiion  who  mourn'st  the  Daisy's  fete. 
That  fate  ia  thine— no  distant  date; 
Stem  Rain's  ploughshare  drires,  elate, 

Pull  on  thy  bloom. 
Till  CTUsh'd  beneath  the  furrow's  weight, 


ffisth  is  II  f  rnirij  ^n'pnil. 

MAY,  1738.  (108) 
I  LANS  hae  thought,  my  youthfu'  friend. 

Though  it  should  serve  nae  other  end 

Thau  just  a  kmd  memento ; 
But  how  the  subject-theme  may  gang. 

Let  time  and  chance  determine ; 
Petlians  it  may  turn  out  a  sang, 

f  erSiaia  turn  out  a  setmon. 


Te'll  try  the  world  fu'  soon,  my  lad, 

And.  Andre*  dear,  believe  me, 
Ye'll  tind  mankind  an  unco  squad. 

And  muckle  they  may  grieve  ye : 
Tor  care  and  trouMe  set  your  tliongM, 

Ev'n  when  your  end's  attained ; 
And  a'  your  views  may  come  to  noi^ht. 

Where  ev'ry  nerve  is  strained. 

The  real,  harden'd  wicked, 
Wha  hae  nae  check  but  iiuman  law. 

Ate  to  a  few  restocked  - 
But,  och !  mankind  are  unco  went. 

And  little  to  be  trusted; 
If  self  the  wavering  balance  ahak^ 

It's  rarely  right  adjusted ! 
Yet  they  wlia  fa'  ui  fortune's  strife. 

Their  Me  we  should  na  censure, 

or  still  til'  important  end  of  hfe. 

They  equally  may  answer ; 


Tho'i 


hourly  St 


*,  aft  ban,  your  story  teB, 


Aye  I     . 

When  v^-i  a  oosom  crony ; 
Bnt  stiQ  keep  something  to  jonrsd 

Ye  scarcely  leU  to  ony. 

onceal  yontsel  as  weel's  ye  can 

Frae  critical  dissection ; 

ut  keek  through  ev'ry  other  mati, 

Wi'  shaqien'd,  sly  inspection. 
The  sacred  lowe  o'  weel-plao'd  Ioto, 

Luiutiantly  indulge  it; 

ut  never  tempt  th'  illicit  rove, 

Lg  should  divulge  iti 


o'thesii 


The  haiard  of  concealini, . 
But,  odi  I   it  hardens  a'  within, 

Aud  petrifies  the  feelii^  1 
To  catch  dame  Fortiuie's  goldea  onilai 

Assiduous  wait  upon  her ; 
And  gather  geic  by  ev'ry  wile 

That's  justified  by  hononii 
Not  for  to  hide  it  in  a  liedg^ 

Nor  for  » trflin-atlendant, 
Bnt  for  the  glorious  privilege 

Of  being  independent 

The  feat  o'  bell's  a  hangman's  wUp 

To  hand  the  wretch  in  order; 
But  where  ye  feel  your  honour  erin. 

Let  that! 

Its  slightest 

Debar  a'  side  pretences; 
And  rCBOlutely  keeps  its  law 

Uncaring  couaeqnsiEes. 


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13S 

The  great  Creator  to  revere 

Must  sure  becooie  the  creeture. 
But  BtiU  the  pxeachiii^  can  forbeaTj 

And  e'en  the  ti^d  feature : 
Tet  ne'er  with  wils  profane  to  renge. 

Be  complaisance  extended ; 
Aji  Athrast  laugh's  a  poor  eschaa^ 

Fot  Deity  offended ! 
When  ranting  round  in  pleasure's  ring, 

Beligion  ma;  be  blinded ; 
Or  it  ^  gie  B  random  sting. 

It  maybe  little  minded ; 
Bnt  when  on  life  we're  tempest  dtiv"!!, 

A  correspondence  tii'd  ni'  Heav'n 

is  sore  n  noble  anchor ! 
Adieu !  dear,  amiable  youth 

Your  heart  can  ne'er  be  wanting! 
May  prudence,  fortitude,  and  truth 

Erect  your  brow  undauuting  1 
In    ploughman    phrase,    "  Ood   send   ] 

8tilS  daily  to  gro^  wiser : 
And  may  you  better  reck  the  rede 
Than  ever  did  th' adviser  I 


2  leiiirfltinE  in  ffianin  ajainillnn,  igsq. 

{lOB) 
Expect  ua,  bu-,  in  this  narration, 
A  fleeeliing,  £eth'rin  dedication. 
To  rooaa  you  up,  and  ca'  you  guid, 

Because  ye're  sumani'd  like  his  grace ; 
Perhapa  related  to  the  race ; 
Then  when  I'm  tir'd,  and  aae  are  ye, 
Wi'  mony  a  fulsome,  siufu'  lie, 


i  POETICAL  ■WORKS. 

1 1  readily  and  freely  grant, 

Oi^bt  he  can  lend  he'll  no  tefus't 
1111  aft  his  goodness  isabns'd; 
"  rascals  whyhia  that  do  hun  vm 

\i  master,  landlord,  husband,  fathe 
le  does  ua  fail  his  part  in  either. 


hen,  nae  thanki  to  him  for  a'  that  j 
Nae  godly  symptom  ye  can  ca'  that ; 

Yell  get  the  best  a'  moral  works, ' 
'Mang  black  Gentoos  and  pagan  Turks, 

Wha  never  heard  of  orlhodoKy. 

That  he'a  the  poor  man's  friend  in  nee^, 

llie  gentleman  in  word  and  deed,  t 


For  feat 

DUi  modesty 

This  may 
MauDpl 
For  mel- 
low, lord 

do-maun  do 
ase  the  great 

al  thro' 


it  to  catdi  a  plack ; 

5fc  frae  a  wh-re, 
tbattaka  the  door; 


And  haud  th»c  ii 


Then,  Lord  be  thankiC,  I  can  beg ; 
Soe  I  shall  say,  and  chat's  nae  flatf  rin*. 
It's  just  sic  poet,  and  »c  patron. 
The  Poet,  some  guid  angel  help  him. 

He  may  do  weel  for  a'  he's  done  yet. 
But  only  he's  no  just  begun  yet. 
The  Patron  (sir,  ye 


the  poor  hi 
._..!  .1., ^.  ^.. .  ~t,mstjn^ 

No  matier— stick  to  sound  believing ! 
Learn    three-mila    ptay'ra,    and    half-mi 

Wi'  weel-spreEul  looi-es,  and  laiig  wry  facei 
lirunt  up  a  solemn,  lengtheu'd  groui, 

I'll  warrant  then,  ye're  nae  deceiver, 
A  steady,  sturdy,  staunch  hehever. 
Oh  ye  wha  leaves  tlie  springs  o'  Calvin, 
For  gumlie  duba  of  your  ain  delvin'  I 
Ye  sons  of  heresy  and  error, 
Ye'U  some  day  squeel  in  quaking  terror 
When  Vengeance  draws  the  sword  in  wiat 
Andin  thefire  throws  the  alieath; 
When  Ruin,  with  his  sweeping  besom. 
Just    frets,   till    heav'n  commission    ^i 

harp  pale  Mis'ry  moans. 


iatie.eo 


ne). 


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So,  Sr,  ye  see  "tiraa  mte  daft  va 


36  (je  Dee 


,Wyou 
la  tak  it  ill) 


I  ttwughc  them  EomethiDg  lik  joucsel. 
Tiiea  patronise  them  wi'  jour  faiour, 

1  had  amaidt  said,  ever  ^ray. 
But  that's  B  u'ord  I  need  nn  say: 
For  prEiyin'  I  hae  little  Ekill  o'C ; 
I'm  baitb  dead  sweer.  and  vretched  ill  o't 
But  I'se  repeat  each  poor  man's  pray>. 
That  kens  or  hears  about  jou,  Sir — 
"  May  ne'er  misfortune's  growlbig  bark, 
Honl  thro'  the  dwelling  o'  the  clerk  I 
May  ne'er  hia  gen'roiis,  honest  hearty 
For  that  same  gen'tous  spirit  smart  1 
May  Keunedj's  tat-hoitoot'd  name 
Ibiis  beet  his  hymeneal  flame, 
mil  Huunious,  at  least  a  dizen. 
Are  by  theii  canty  fireside  risen : 
Kve  honnie  losses  round  their  table. 

To  serve  their  kin;  and  country  weel. 


But  n*hilsc  your  Irishes  and  endeavours 
Are  blest  with  fortune's  smiles  and  fivoun, 
I  am,  dear  Sir,  with  seal  most  ferveut, 
Youi  mocb  mdebled,  humble  servant 

That  uxiB-Uearled  carl.  Want, 

Attended  in  his  grim  advances. 

By  sad  inistnkes  and  black  miaohaneea. 

While  hopes,  and  joys,  and  pleasures  fly 

Moke  you  as  poor  a  dog  as  I  am. 
Your  bumble  servEuit  ilien  no  more ; 
For  who  would  humbly  serve  the  poor! 

While  recoUeetioii's  power  is  giv'n. 
If,  in  the  vale  of  humble  life, 

'a  strife. 


1,  thro'  the  te 
Should  recogn^ 


[trea» 


But    Eui'ely 
Outd-uosnih'  to  your  Majesty  ! 

ilay  Heaven  augment  your  blisses 
Ou  flv'ry  new  birth-day  ye  ae^ 
A  humble  poet  wishes  t 
My  hardship  here,  at  your  leie^ 

Is  sure  en  uncouth  sight  to  see, 

Amai^  time  birth-day  dresses 

Sae  hue  tbia  day. 


The  pneis,  too,  a  venal  gangi 

'.Vi'  rhymes  weel-tura'd  and  ready, 
id  gar  you  trow  ye  ne'er  do  nraugi 


iia 


ing  steady, 

1  before  a  monarch's  1 

For  neither  i;enaion,  post,  nor 
Am  I  your  bumble  debtor ; 
0,  lute  refiectioB  on  your  gtac 
Your  kingship  to  bespatier 


I'haa  you  this  day. 
ue,  my  aov'reign  king; 
may  weel  be  doubted; 


And  less,  w 

•nwx  did  ae  day. 
^  be't  ftae  me  that  I  aspire 
To  blame  your  legislation, 
I  say,  ye  wisdom  want,  or  trt. 
To  rule  this  mighty  notion  I 
-•-'■'         ■ '     ■  nbt,  my  siie^ 


Ye've 


ustedtn 


or  byre, 

m  courts  yon  day. 

ien  auld  Britain  peace; 


Nae  bargain  wearing  faster. 
Or,  faith  !  I  fear,  tliat,  wi'  llie  geae, 
I  shortly  boost  to  posture 

I'  the  craft  aome  day. 


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When  taies  he  enbiges, 
{And  Win'a  a  tme  gnid  fallcra'a  get  (1") 

A  name  not  envy  apsii^cs], 
Iliat  he  intends  to  pay  jnur  iet>t. 

And  lessen  a"  jour  cliarges; 
But,  G-d-askel  let  nae  aaAing-lit 

Ai>iidge  yourbonnie  barge:  (113) 

And  boats  tbia  day^ 

Adien,  my  lie^  (  may  freedom  geek 

And  may  ye  rax  eomiption'a  neck, 

And  g^e  het  for  disaeetion  I 
Bnt  «nce  I'm  here,  I'll  no  neglect, 

lu  loyal,  true  affection. 
To  pay  youc  Uneen,  with  due  respect, 

My  ibilty  and  anbjection 

This  great  biith'day. 
HkI,  Majesty  Most  Bscellentl 

While  nobles  strive  to  phase  ye, 
WiU  ye  accept  a  compliment 

A  aimple  poet  gies  you  ! 
'Hiae  bonnie  baiiutime,  Heav*!!  has  lent. 

Still  hyjhei  '      ' 


BURSS'S  POETICAL  "WOHIS. 

It  lirat  hang  OHt,  that  sbe'H  discern 


For  eve 

Fiae  care  that  day. 
Pot  you,  yoniig  potentate  o'  Wales, 

1  tell  your  Highness  faicJy, 
Down  pleasure's  stream,  wi'  swelling  sail: 

Tm  tanld  ye're  driving  rarely ; 
But  some  day  ye  may  gnaw  your  nails, 

And  curse  your  folly  sairlj. 
That  e'er  ye  brak  Dia    ■ 

Or  rattl'd  di 


i"  Charbe  (113), 


Tet  aft 
Tom 
So,  ye  may  d< 


By  nigbt  or 
igj:eil  cowte's 


le  keys  of  Peter, 


«h"& 


Or,  troutb  <    ye'll  iUia  the  mitr- . 
Some  luckless  day. 
Young,  royal  Tatry  Erects  (US),  I  leam, 

Ye've  lately  come  athiawt  her;  ■ 
A  glorious  galley  (117),  stem  and  atran, 

Weel  rigg'd  for  Venua'  barter; 


Tc,  lastly,  bom 

Ye  royal  lass 

HeaVn  mak  ye 

Aud  gie  you 


guid  as  veil  as  braw. 


Ktler  just  than  »■. 
On  ouie  day. 


Durae  o'  Ufe  be  thro', 
;n  their  wi^ie  fou. 


I  ffisrti's  fipiiapli. 

tpireil  fool, 


31  for 


.ought,  onre  hot  for  rnle. 


Let!" 


m  draw  ni 


wre  this  grassy  heap  sing  dool, 

e  a  bard  of  ruali 
UDteleaa,  ati 
weekly  this 


Oh,l 


s  the  crowds  ai 
lot&Vl 


Bnt  thoughtless  follies  laid  him  low. 

Reader,  attend— whether  thy  soiil 
Soar's  fancy's  flights  beyond  the  pije, 
Or  darkling  grubs  this  earthly  hol^ 


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THE  TWA  DOGS. 


ATALB.  (118) 

TVas  in  th»t  place  o'  Scolknd's  isle 

■Hut  bears  the  nameo'Auld  Kiiig, Coil  (IW), 

Dpoo  a  bounie  day  ia  June, 

Wlien  wearing  through  the  afternoon, 

Twa  dogs  that  were  na  thraiig  at  hame, 

rorgathcr'fl  ance  upon  a  time. 

The  first  111  name,  they  ca'd  him  Ciesat, 

Was  keepit  for  his  honour's  pleasure ; 

His  hair,  liis  size,  his  mouth,  his  lues. 

But  whalpit  some  place  fiir  abroad, 
Whate  sailor's  gai^  to  £ab  foe  cod. 
His  Incited,  letter'd,  braw  brass  collar 
Show'd  him  the  gentleman  and  scliolar; 
But  though  he  nas  o'  high  degree. 
The  Kent  a  pride— nae  pride  had  he ; 
But  wail  has  spent  an  hour  caressin'. 

At  kirit  or  market,  mill  or  smiddie, 
Kae  Cawted  tyke,  tliough  ere  sae  dnddie. 
But  he  wad  scan't,  as  glad  to  see  him. 

The  tilher  nas  a  plaughman's  collie, 

A  rhjmii^,  ranting,  raiing  hillie, 

Wha  for  his  friend  and  comrade  had  him. 

And  in  his  &eaks  iiad  Ijuath  ca'd  him. 

After  some  dog  in  Il^hlaod  sang  <120), 

Was  made  lang  syne— Lord  knows  liow  lang. 

He  iras  a  gash  and  faithful  tjke. 

As  eyer  kp  or  sheugh  or  dyke. 

His  honest,  sonsie,  haws'nt  fiice. 

Aye  gat  him  friends  in  ilka  place, 

Uis  breast  'ras  irhil£,  his  touiie  bock 

Wed  clad  wi'  coat  o'  gloss;  black ; 

His  ganae  tale,  wi'  upward  curl. 

Hung  o'er  his  hucdies  wi'  a  swirL 

Nae  doubt  but  they  were  fain  o'  ither. 
And  unco  pact  and  thick  Ihegither : 
Wi'  soda]  nose  whyles  anuft'd  and  snowkit. 
Wliyles  mice  and  moudieworls  they  howtit ; 
Whyles  aconr'd  awa  in  lang  eicuriioo. 

Until  wi'  daHtn'  weary  grown, 
Upon  a  knowe  they  sat  them  dom^ 
And  there  beg«n  a  lang  digiessiou 
About  the  lords  o'  the  creation. 


rt  o'  lite  poor  dc^s  like  you 

__ aithe  genii's  life  I  saw. 

What  wa;  poor  bodies  liv'dava. 


He  draws  a  bonnie  silken  purae 

As  lane's  my  tail,  whare,  through  the  steeka. 

The  yeUow  ktter'd  Oeordie  keeks. 

Frae  mom  to  e'en  its  noi^hC  hat  toiling, 

At  baking,  toasting,  frying,  boiling  i 

And  though  the  gentry  first  ate  stecliin, 

Wi'  sauce,  ragouts,  and  sic  Uke  trashtiiei 
iW's  little  short  o'  downright  wasttie. 
Our  whipper-in,  wee  blastit  wonner. 
Poor  worthless  elf,  it  eats  a  dinner. 
Better  than  ony  tenant  ni^i 


And  when  they  meet  wi'  aair  diaaaters, 
like  loss  o'  hKilth,  or  waiic  o'  maateR, 
Ye  must  \?ad  think,  a  irce  touch  langer. 


But  then  to  see  how  ye're  ne^rlecit, 
Hoif  iiuffd,  end  oufTd,  and  disreapeekiti 
L-d,  man,  our  gentry  e^  as  iiKle 
For  divers,  ditchers,  and  sic  cattle; 
They  gang  as  saucy  by  poor  folk, 
As  I  wad  by  a  sCinkin' broek. 
I've  notio'd,  on  our  Laird's  court-day. 
And  mony  a  time  ray  heart's  beai  wa^ 


How  they  maun 
He'll  stamp  and 
He'll  apprehend 


thole  a 


m'  aspect  humbly 
and  tremble! 

m  be  wretches  I 


They're  no  sac  wretcbed's  ane  wad  thiukj 
Tno'  constantly  on  poortitli's  brink; 
They're  sic  accustom'd  wi'  the  sight. 
The  view  o't  gies  them  httle  ftight. 


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140 


BURNS'S  POETICAL  TOEKS. 


'uided. 


tlien  (hnnce  snd  fortune  ore  sae  guide 
Tbey'te  oje  in  less  or  mair  provided ; 
Andtho*  fiitisn'd  vi'  close  employment, 
A  blink  o'  resfs  sweet  enjoyment. 
The  deerest  comfort  o'  theit  lives, 


re  just  their  pride. 


That  sweetens  a'  their  flre-aide; 
And  whylea  twaJpeuuie  worth  o"  nappy 
Can  make  the  bodies  unco  happy ; 
They  lay  aside  their  private  cares. 
To  mind  the  Kirk  and  State  affiiirs : 
They'll  talk  o'  potronnge  and  priests, 
Wi'  kindling  tOty  in  their  breasts. 
Or  tell  what  new  taxation's  comiu'. 
And  ferlie  at  the  folk  in  Lon'on. 
As  bleak-f^'d  Hallowmas  returns, 
Tliey  get  the  jovial,  ranting  kirna, 
When  rural  life,  o'  ev'ry  station, 
Unite  in  couinum  recreation ; 
Love  blinks.  Wit  slaps,  and  aodal  Mirth 
Forgets  there's  Care  upo'  the  earth. 
That  merry  day  the  year  begins. 
They  bor  the  door  on  frosty  wiii'a ; 
The  nappy  reeks  wi'  mantling  reamj 


The  cantie  auld  folks  c 
The  young  anes  rantin 
My  be^rt  has  been  sae 
Iliat  I  for  joy  hae  ba 


Are  riven  out  baith  root  and  branch, 
Some  rascal's  pridelu'  greed  t«  quenol 
Wha  thinks  to  knit  himscl  the  fester 
In  favour  ni'  some  gentle  master, 
Wha'  BJblius  thrang  a  parliiimentin'. 
For  Britain's  guid  Ida  saul  indeutiu' — 

Hmth,  tad,  ye  1 


!  guid  faith,  1  doubt  it. 


ToHagi 
To  learn  ion 


Calais 


ion,  and  see  the  wort". 
There'  at  Vienna  or  Vers^les, 
He  rives  his  father's  auld  entails ; 
Or  by  Madriil  he  takes  the  ronte, 
1o  tluum  guitats,  aud  fecht  wi'  now 


Ordow 


ItaUan  ri 


myrtles; 
men  oousea  arumiy  uerman  water. 
To  toak  binisel'  look  feir  and  fetter, 
Aud  clear  tlie  consequential  sorrows, 
Love^fts  of  Carnival  si^oras. 

Wi'  dissipation,  feud,  and  faction. 


For  gear  to  gai 
Oh  would  they 


res  wi'countra  sports, 

le  be  better, 

ant,  and  the  Colter  I 


apeokin"  lightly  o'  their  limmer, 
shooiin'  0'  a  hare  or  moor.corfc, 
e  ne'er  a  bit  they're  ill  to  poor  folk. 
t  will  ye  tell  me,  Master  Csaar, 


Thro'  winter's  eauld,  or  simmer's  heat ; 
They've  nae  sair  nsrk  to  craae  their  bam 
And  fill  auldi^e  wi'  grips  and  granes; 
But  human  bodies  ore  sic  fools. 
For  a'  their  colleges  and  schools. 
That  when  noe  real  ills  perplei  them. 
They  niak  enow  themseliea  to  vei  them 
And  aye  the  less  they  hae  to  sturt  them, 
In  like  proportion  less  will  hurt  them. 
A  country  fellow  at  the  plough. 
His  acre's  till'd,  he's  right  eneugh; 
A  country  girl  at  her  wheel. 
Herdi      '    ' 


mtlemen,  and  ladies 
Wi'  ev'n  down  want  o'  wark  are  eurs^ 
They  loiter,  lonngiiig,  lank,  and  laiy; 
Tho'  deil  haet  ails  iliem,  yet  uneasy  ; 
Their  days  insipid,  dull,  and  tasteless ; 
Their  nights  unijuict,  lang,  and  restless; 
And  e'en  their  sports,  then  balls  and  race 
Their  gallopping  thro'  public  places. 


■cely  re 


The  jo- 

The  m  ,     ,  , 

Then  sawthet  a'  in  deep  debauches; 


.m-ty  m 


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THE   nTTEK'S    SATUHDAY   MIUHT. 


TJiL^-flii-e  tarns    o'et'.m.' pain-mr':kil  ^-a: 
TV  Tag  H-  iiibk.  sure  Ka  fefWa  jiiTid,- 


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Ho,t,db,  Google 


Ilie  ladies 
As  gnat  and  gracians  a'  as  sisters ; 
But  hear  tbeir  absent  thoughts  o*  ither. 
They're  a'  nm  deils  aod  jads  tliegither. 
"Whyles,  o'er  the  nee  bit  eup  and  plaU^ 
They  sip  the  scandai  potion  pteity ; 
Or  ke-lang  uights,  wi'  crabbit  leuks, 
Toteowre  the  devil's  picmr'd  beiiks ; 
Slake  on  a  chance  a  ftinnet's  staikyord. 
And  cheat  like  onie  uuhaug^d  blael^vuard. 
There's  aome  exception,  man  and  noman ; 
But  this  it  Gentry's  life  in  common. 


lis,  the  av 


as  out  o'  »g1it 


And  darker  gloaming  broiight  the  night : 
The  bum-clock  huniui'd  ni'  laiy  droiie ; 
The  kje  stood  rowtbi'  i'  the  loan ; 
When  up  they  gat,  and  shook  their  higs, 
Rejoic'd  they  were  na  men,  but  dogs ; 
And  eacli  tuofc  off  his  several  way, 
Easoly'd  to  meet  some  ilher  day. 


My  secret  heart's  exulting  boast  ? 
I  Aii3  does  she  heedless  licar  my  gtoanP 

'  Ohi  can  she  bear  so  base  a  heart. 

So  lost  to  honour,  lost  to  truth, 
As  from  the  fondest  lover  part. 

The  pJighled  husband  of  her  youth! 
Alas  E  life's  path  may  be  unsmooth ! 

Her  iiaj  may  lie  thro'  rough  distress! 
Then,  who  her  pangs  and  pauia  will  soothe 

Her  aorroica  share,  and  make  them  leaa  ? 
Ye  wingeil  hours  (hat  o'er  us  past, 

EoTBptiir'd  more,  the  more  enjoy'd. 
Your  dear  remembrance  in  my  breast, 

My  fondly  treasur'd  thoughts  employ'd. 
That  breast,  how  dreary  now,  and  void. 

For  her  too  scanty  once  of  romn ! 
Ev'n  ev'ry  ray  of  hope  desttoy'd. 

And  not  a  wish  to  guild  the  gloom! 


And  wanders  here  to  wail  and  weepl 
With  woe  I  nightly  iT^ls  teqi, 

Seneath  thy  wnn,unvamung  beam; 
'    '" ■   ' "atiou  deep. 


Ho* 


and  love 


ealla 


1  jojleBS  siew  tl^  rays  adon! 

The  &intly  marked  distan 
I  JDjleas  \iew  thy  trembling 

Befleeted  in  the  gurgling  rill :' 
My  fondly-fluttering  heart,  he  i  " 

Thou  busy  pow'r,  remeinbrai 
'  '■ '  -  "It  the  agonizing  ihrill 


hni: 


mill 


Forev 


No  shepherd's 

No  fcbled  ti 

The  pUghted  £ 


ipe — Arcadian  strains  j 
mutual  Same; 


The  oft-attested  Fun 

d  father's  Tender  name; 
re  the  pledges  of  my  love  I 

•e  the  TBptui'd  moments  flown 


Incircled  ir 


le  up  to 


long  ai 


,  slow. 


And  when  my  nightly  couch  I  try. 


nightly  thSef  1 


My  toil-heat  nerres,  and  ti 

Keep  wotchuigs  with  th 
Or  if  1  alumbcr,  fency,  chief, 

Reigas  haggard-wild,  in  sore  affright : 
Ev'n  day,  a)l-bitter,  brings  relief 

From  auch  a  hotror-breathing  night. 
Obi  (hou  blight  queen,  who,  o'er  th'  ei- 
pause,  [awayl 

Now    highest    reign'st,   with    boundless 
Oft  has  thy  Bilent-marking  glance 

Obaery'd  fts,  fondly-waiui'ting,  strav ! 
The  time,  unheeded,  sped  away. 

While  love's  luxurious  pube  beat  hi^ 
Beneath  thy  silver-gleaming  ray, 

To  mark  the  mutual  kindling  eye. 


Oh!  I 


aetl 


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EUESS'S  POEnCAL  TTOliKS. 


All  ha 


airtess  In  eirinliiirglr. 

-  iitia'8  dMling  seat ! 
IV  palaces  and  towr^. 


ible  prid 


Where  on. . 

Sat  Lppislation'a  sov'relxn  •aavr'n  l 
rrom  marldiig  arildly-ieatlet'd  flow'rs, 

As  on  tha  hauta  of  Ajr  I  atray'd. 
And  iinging,  lone,  the  UogVing  lioura, 

I  >he1ter  m  thy  honour'd  aliade. 
Here  wealth  (till  anlla  the  golden  tidS; 

As  hnsy  1>ade  hia  laboiic  plies  i 
There  Archilecture'i 

Bids  degBuce  and 
Here  Justice,  from  her  nanve  sties, 

Hi^  n-ieldi  her  balance  and  bet  rod; 
There  leaming,  with  his  eagle  ej-e^ 

Tby  sons,  Edina !  social,  kind, 
^Fith  open  arms  the  straiicer  hail ; 

Th«r  yiena  euhirg'd,  tlieic  liii'ial  taiad. 
Above  the  narrow,  nind  vale  ; 

Attentive  aiai  to  sorrow's  wail, 
'  's  silent  claim ; 


y  blot  til 


esfoilt 


uel 


Thy  daughters  bright  thj  walks  adorn. 

Gay  as  the  gilded  nuiumer  skj. 
Sweet  as  the  dewy  milk-Bhite  thorn. 

Dear  as  the  raptut'd  thrill  oCjoyl 
Fair  Burnet  strikes  th"  adoring  eye, 

Heav'n's  iwauiics  on  my  ikucy  shine; 
I  see  the  Sire  of  Lnve  on  high, 

And  own  his  work  mdeed  divim  (122) 
Tliere,  watdiing  high  the  least  alarms. 

lliy  rough,  rude  fortress  gleams  aihr: 
Ij]ce  some  bold  vet'ran,  grey  in  arms, 

And  mark'd  with  many  a  seaming  scai 
Hie  pond'rons  nsll  and  massy  bar, 

Grim-tisiog  o'er  the  rugged  rock ; 
Have  aft  withstood  assailing  war. 

And  oft  repell'd  th'  invader's  shocX 
With  awe-atruck  thought,  and  pif^g  teats, 

I  view  that  noble,  ilatdy  dome. 
Where  Scotia's  kings  of  other  veara, 

r  royal  home  i 


A!B8,h 


ang-dth 


lyal  HB 


Tho'  r^^  law  cries  out,  'twas^juat ! 
Wild  beats  my  heart  to  trace  your  steps. 

Whose  ancestors,  in  days  of  yore, 
T%ro'  hostile  ranks  and  rum'd  gaps 

Old  Scotia's  bloody  lion  bore : 
Ev-n  I  who  sing  in  rustic  lore, 

Haply,  my  sires  have  left  th«r  shed, 
And  fac'd  grim  danger's  loudest  roar. 

Bold-following  where  yaut  Others  led ! 


feet 


Scottia's  darting  seat  t 
Lil  thy  palaces  and  tow^?9. 
Where  once  beneath 

Illation's  sov'rcign  pow'rs  I 

marking  wildly-scatler'd  flow'n 

on  the  banks  of  Ayr  I  stmy'd. 

And  siniri       


iple  Bard,  miigh  at  the  rustic  plough, 
Ifariung  his  tuneful  trade  from  ev'ry  bough; 
The  chauting  hnnet,  or  the  mellow  thrush, 
Hailiiig  !i\e  setting  suii,  sweet,  in  the  green 
thorn  buih ;  [ahrill. 

The   soariug   lark,  tha  perching  rcd-breaat 
Or  deeji-tou'd  plovers,  grey,  wild-whisllmg 


lehill; 


Bye. 


Shall  he  be  gnilty  of  tliKrhweling  crimes. 
The  senile,  niMcenary  Swiss  of  rhymes ? 
Or  labour  bard  tha  panegyric  close, 
With  all  the  venal  sool  of  dedicating  prose? 
Ho  I    though  his  artless  atrmns  he  rudely 
amgs,  [strings. 

And   throits  his  hand  nncontlily  o'er  tho 
He  glon-s  with  all  the  spirit  of  the  Bard, 
Fame,  honest  Ciuue,  his  great,  his  dear  to. 

■  ill,  if  some 
Jll'd  in  l\u 
When   Ballaulyue    befriends    I 

And  hands  the  rnstic  stranger  op  to  fame. 
With   heartfelt  throes  his  grateful  boai 

swells. 
The  god-like  bliss,  to  give,  alone  eicfis. 


Of  coming  Winter's  £ 

The  bees,  rejoicing  o'er  tut..  »«j 

Unmimber'd    hnds    and   flow'rs' 


I  Tbe  death  o'  devils  smoor'd  w 


[ftap; 
^he  toii-woa 
s  skaith 


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THE  BRIGS  OP  ATB.                                           1*8 

The  Uiniidering    gun*   are  heard  on  ev'ry 

He  leeni'd  as  he  wi'  Time  hid  warstl'd  laag^ 

Bide, 

Yel,  teughly  doure.  he  b»1e  an  unco  bang. 

The  wounded  rorveys,  tiling,  scatter  wide ; 

Ne*'  Brig  wssbuakit  in  a  btuw  new  coa^ 

The  feather'd  field-m&tes,  boiuid  by  Nature's 

That  he  at  London,  tcae  sne  Adams,  got ; 

tie. 

In's  hand  five  taper  staves  as  smooth's  a 

8irtj,  molhers,  children,  in  one  carnage  lie : 

hi«d. 

(Wist  Bano,  poetic  heart, bnt  iidy  bleeds. 

WT  Yirla  and  whirlysrigums  at  the  head. 

And  eiecraKs  man's  sovsge.  ruthless  deerts !) 

The  Goth  was  stalking  round  witli  sniiOBl 

Nae  mnir  the  flow'r   in   field  oc  meadow 

search, 

jptings; 

Spying  tlie  time-worn  flaws  in  ev'ry  arch ;— 

height  o 


C  half-tai 


Tlie  hoary  moms  precede  the  eonny  days, 

tide  bisas,  [the  rays, 

Whae  thick  the  goseotnour  onves  wanton  in 
'Tts9  m  that  season,  when  a  simple  bard, 
TJnknowa  and  poor,  simphcity's  ren'ard, 
Ae  n^t,  sithin  the  aucient  brugh  of  Ayr, 
^  whim  inspired,  or  haply  |«e!t  wi'  care, 
He  left  his  bed,  and  Cook  his  ivayward  route, 
And  down  by  Simpson's  (l^J  wlieel'd  the 

left  about ; 
(Whether  irapeil'd  by  all-directii^t  Fate 
To  wiCnees  what  I  after  eliall  narrate ; 
Or  whether,  rapt  in  meditation  high. 
He  wander'd  out  he  knew  not  where  or  whr) 
The  drowsy  Di 


;con-cloc&  (124)  had  nun 


Throu);])  the  still  night  dash'd  hoarse  along 
Alt  else  was  hush'd  as  Nature's  dosed  e'e : 
The  silent  moon  shone  high  o'er  tow'r  and 


It  ch^c'd  his  new-come  neebor  took  his  ^^ 
And  e'«i  a  vei'd  and  angry  heart  had  lie ! 

He,   down  the  water,  gies  him  this  guid- 


heepsh, 


i-e'll  think  ye're  n»o 
sr  fr[ic  bank  to  book  t 


Bnt  gin  ye  he  a      , 
ITio',  feilh,  tint  day  I  douli 
ITiere'll  he,  if  that  diie  • 

hoddle. 
Some  fewer  whigmaleeries  m  your  noddies 


i  Vandal,  ye 


r  litdo 


Just  much  about  it  wi'  your  scanty  sense; 
Will  your  poor,  narrow  fout-paih  of  a  street, 
Whare  twa  wheel-barrowa  tremble  when  they 

meet—  pime, 

Your  rnin'd,  formless  hulk  o'  staue  and 
Compare  wi'  bonnie  Bv^s  o'  modem  time? 
There's  men  o'  taste  wou'd  tak  the  Ducat- 

stream  (127),  [Bwim, 

Tho'  they  should  cesC  the  vera  sark  and 
Ere  they  would  grite  their  feelings  wi'  tiie 


Ofiii 


n  ugly,  Ootluc 


(That  Bards  are  second-sighted  is  nae  jl 
And  ken  Che  lingo  of  the  sp'ritnnl  folk; 
Faya,  Spimkies,  Kelpies,  a',  they  can  e:t 
them,  ftl 

And  ev'n  the  vera  deils  they  brawly 
Anld  Brig  a[ipeiir'd  of  ancient  Pictish  ri 
The  veij  wrinkles  Gothic  m  his  face; 


ited  gowk!    purd  up  wi'   windy 
"  I  pride—  [tide ; 

,j,  JThisinony  a  year  I'™  stood  the  flood  and 

'  I  I'll  he  a  Brig,  when  je'sea  shapeless  cauTiI 

!  As  yet  ye  little  ken  about  the  matter, 
.  :  But  twa-three  whiters  will  inform  ye  hetCeiv 
j  When  heavy,  dark,  contuiued  a'-day  raina, 
_  enu^  deluges  o'erflow  the  plains ; 
' '  When  ftom  Che  hilts  where   sprbgs   tba 
j  brawhng  Coil. 

Or  stately  Lugai's  mossy  fountains  binl. 
Or  where  riie  Greenocli  winds  his  moorland 
course,  [source, 

I    Or  haunted  Carpal  (12B)  draws  Sis  feeble 
L    Arous'd  by  blust'riiig  winds  and  spotting 

In  mony  a  torrent  down   his    snaw-broo 


Ho,t,db,  Google 


While  crasbing  ice,  borne  on  the 


Sweejis  dgm^  and  mills,  and  biiga, 
And  from  Gleiibuck  (129),  down  to  the  Rat 
ton-key  (130),  [a™- 

Auld  Ajr  ia  jusC  one  lengtben'd  tnmblin^ 
Then  down  ye'll  hntl,  deil  nor  ye  never  rise ' 
And  daah  the  gnmlie  jaupa  up  to  tbe  pouC' 


Kne  Arcliiteetate,  trowth,  I  needs  mu 
sny't  o'l  I  [gate  o'l 

ThB  Ir-d  be  thaniit  that  weVe  tint  tl 
Gaunt,  ghastly,  gitaiat-alluring  ediCces, 
Hanging  i*ith  tlireafnuisjnt  like  precipice! 
O'er-srchlng,  mouWy,  gloom-inspiring  cove 
Supporting  roofs  fantastic,  atony  groves : 

-- ' —  -  '  ■■ —  in  nameless  sculptui 


POEnCAL  W0KE3. 

roaring 
feate; 


■Window. 

drcst. 
With  order,  symmetry. 


ta  nnbleat ; 
ded  wbim ;  ' 


The  craa'd  creatioEis  of  misgu 
Forms  might  be  worshipp'd 

And  still  the  second  dread  command  be  free, 
Their  likeness  is  not  found  on  earth,  * 


Mansi 


IS  that  vould  disgrace  the  bnjlding 
in  reptile,  bird  or  beast ; 


nt  only  fta  a  doited 
Or  frosty  maids  forsvom  tlie  d 
Or  cuife  of  kttet  tunes  wim  he 
That  sullen  gloom  waasterlingl 
Tanciea  that  our  good  Brugll 

And  soon  may  they  eipire, 


Oh  J. 


nnher'daii 


Were  ye  but  here  to  share  my  wounded  feel- 
Ye  Borthy  Proveaes,  and  mony  B  Bailie, 
■Wha  in  the  paths  o'righteousiies$  did  toil 


To    V 


suaey. 


Ye  godly  Counrils  wha  hoe  blest  this  town ; 
Ye  godly  brethren  o'  the  sacred  gown, 
Wha  meekly  ga'e  your  hurdies  to  the  smi- 

Irange)  ye  go^ 


And  (ffha 


e  folk 


would  youi  spirits  groan  in  deep  veia- 
ee  each  melancholy  alteration  j 


.nd  agonising,  cnrse  the  tii 
V'hen  ye  begat  the  base,  de 
iae  langer  lev'tend  men. 


In  plaii 
Nae  loni 
Heeto" 


[braid  story  I 
hold  forth  a  plun 
Ds  and  douce. 

-aumrel,  corky-beaded,  graceless  geo 


le  herrjment  and  rain  of  the  country ; 
en,  three  parts  made  by  tailors  and  by 
barbers,         [new  Brigs  and  Harhonrs ! 
ha  waste  your  wcel-liuUi'd  gear  on  i — d 


As  for  your  Friestliood,  I  shall  say  but  little. 
Corbies  and  Clergy  are  a  shot  ii;;ht  kitda : 
But,  under  favoar  o'  your  langer  beard. 
Abuse  o'  MagistrWes  might  weel  be  spar's  i 
To  liken  them  to  your  auld-warld  scjuad, 
1  needs  must  say,  comparisons  are  odd. 
In  Ayr,  wag-wits  nae  mair  can  hate  a  handle 
To  raoulh  "  a  af  izeu,"  a  term  o'  scnndal ; 
Nae  mair  the  Council  waddles  down  the 

street. 
In  all  the  pomp  of  ignorant  conceit ; 
"-  wha  grew  wise  priggiu'  owre  hops  and 

Or  gather'd  lib'tnl  views  in  bonds  and  seising 
If  haply  Kiuiwledge,  on  a  random  tramp, 
Had  shor'd  them  with  a  glimmer  of  his  lamp, 


th-ma-clarer  might  been 


What  finther 


What  liloody  wars,  if  Spiritea  had  blood  to 
an  can  tell ;  but  ail  before  their  sight, 
y  train  appear'd  in  order  bright ; 
Adown  the  glilt'tiug    stream    they  featly 
danc'd :  felanc'd : 

Br^ht  to  the  moon  their  various  dresses 
They  footed  o'er  the  wat'ry  glass  ao  neat, 
Theinfant  ice  scarce  bent  beneath  their  fceti 
arts  of  minstrelsy  among  them  rung, 

Oh,  had  M'lauchlan  (131),  thairoi-inspiring 


The  lover's  raptur'd  jof ;  ot  bleeding  ca 


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ON  CAPT^lIN  MATTHEW  HENDERSOJT. 


No  guess  couia  tell  what  inatniinnitBppear'd, 
But  all  the  soul  of  Music's  self  was  heard ; 
Harmonioua  oonMlt  ru!^  in  every  part. 
While  simple  melody  pout'd  moviug  on  tlie 

The  Genius  of  the  Btream  in  front  appears, 
A  i-enerabls  Chief  advanc'd  in  years ; 
His  hoary  head  with  water-lilies  crovm'd. 
His  maiily  lej  with  garter  tiu^le  bound : 
Next  came  the  loveliest  pair  in  all  the  ring. 
Sweet  Female  Beauty  hand  in  hand  with 
Spring ;  [Joy, 

Then,  crown'd  with  flow'rj'  hny,  came  Bural 
And  Summer,  with  his  fervid-bfaraiug  eye : 
All-cheerii^  Plenty,  with  her  flowing  horn, 
Jfid  yellow  Autumn,  wrealh'd  with  nodding 


Where, 


Th      Wm    r"  time-hleoch'ia 


Te  hills !  near  neighhonra  o'  the  stBra^ 
That  proudly  cock  your  cresting  cairns  1 
Ye  cliSs,  the  hannti  of  Bailing  yearns  (18Q 

Where  echo  alombers '. 
Come  join,  ye  Nature's  sturdiest  baims 

My  wailing  numhers ! 
Mourn,  ilka  grove  the  cushat  kens ! 
Te  haa'ly  shaws  andbriary  dens! 
Ye  humies,  wimiilin'  down  your  glen% 

Wi'  toddlin'  din. 
Or  foaming  Strang,  wi'  hasty  st 


Fraehi 


oeks  did  hoary 

martial 
le(132); 


Is  o'er  the  lea; 
ng  honuilie. 


■e  the  Feal  wild  woody  a 


Learn    g  ai  d  Worth  in  equal  meaanres  I 
From  simple  Catrine,  their  !ong-lov'd  abode 
(134);  ^   [wt--"- 


a'lie  tirsl  a'  llow^ 

lawn,  when  ev'ry  graasy  blade 
jps  with  a  dian  -    '    '  '   "-' 

r  th 
nankins  whiddi 


songa 


'ruathn^^e, 
I  Ihro'  the  glad^ 
join  my  wail. 

Iters  o' the  wood; 


(fill  Cs;itHiii  ^Httjuin  SniicMnn, 


Ye  duck  and  drake,  ■ 


Ob  Deal 
Themcil 
Hautl  til 


Matthew'a  course  was  brlRht; 

jlchleaa  heavenly  linlil  I 

1  thou  tyrant  fell  anil  bloody  1 

f  hame  to  hia  black  smiidie, 
O'er  hurcheon  hides, 

tock-Bsh  conie  o'er  his  Jtuddie 
Wi'  thy  auld  sides ! 


He's  gane !  he'a  game  I  he's  frae 
The  ae  beat  fellow  e'er  was  bora 


Frae  out  cauld  >hor% 


Tell  the  fer  irarlds,  wha  hi 


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ECRNS'S  POETICAL  VOEKS. 


Bnt,  now,  wliat  else  for  me  remains 
But  tales  of  noe  f 

And  fnie  my  ecu  the  dmpping  niiu 
Muun  ever  Bow. 

Moiim,  Eprinf;,  thou  darling  of  the  year  I 


In  gcief  thy  gg 
Hiou,  winter. 


Moum  him,  thon  sun,  p^at  « 
Moum,  empress  of  the  silent  i 
And  yau,  ye  twinkling  starriei 
My  Mitlliew  ni 
For  thrau^h  your  orbs  he's  t 

Oh,  Henderson !  the  m»n— tli 
And  srt  thon  gune,  and  gone 
And  ImC  thou  Ftuss'd  that  nii 


'en  tiia  flight, 
brother! 


The  world  around? 
culptur'd  tombs,  ye  great 


But  by  tiff  h( 
And  ffeep  the 


If  thon  uncommon  merit  host, 

Yet  spun.'d  at  fortune'i  door,  viuta, 
Alook  of  pity  hithercest — 

For  MtutliDw  was  a  poor  man. 
If  thon  a  notle  sodger  ert. 

That  passeat  by  this  grave,  man, 
Iliero  mouldera  here  »  gallant  heart— 

For  Matthew  \cas  a  brave  man. 
If  thou  00  men,  their  B-ot*B  aod  ways. 

Cunt  thtuif  uncommon  L^t,  man, 
Bere  lies  .wha  weai  had  won  thy  prus^-^ 

For  Matthev  'lvbs  a  bright  taan. 
U  thon  at  friendship's  sacred  ca! 

.Wad  life  itself  resign,  man, 
Ihy  gynipalhelie  tear  maun  fa' — 

fVr  Itbtthew  vat  a  kind  man  I 


I  staunch  nithout  o  stain. 


And  ne'er  guid  v 
Hiiswas  thy  hillie. 

For  Maltheiv  wa; 
f  ony  whiggish  nh 

To  blame  poor  M 
Jaydoolaiidsoiro 

For  Matthew  wai 


A   TALE.  (137) 

"Otbrownyasiinaofljogilis  full  is  this  trake." 
Gawih  Dououa 
Whbk  chapman  billies  leafe  the  street, 
And  drouthy  neighbours,  ne^hbours  meet 
As  markei-iiays  are  wearing  lat^ 
And  folk  begin  to  lak  the  gate ; 
IVhile  we  sit  bousing  at  the  nappy, 
jirl  unco  happy, 


Ss,  and  atiles, 
our  heme, 

I  like  gMhering  stOI 


We  thii 

The  nioi 

That  lie 

Where  E 

Gatherii  ^ 

Nursing  her  a  rath  to 

This  trntli  find  honest  Tain  o'  Shanfer, 

(Auld  Ayr,  wham  ne'er  n  town  surpasses, 
"    '  men  and  bonnie  lasses). 

Oh  Tam !  liad'sc  thou  but  been  aae  wiB% 
n  thy  ain  wife  Kate's  adeicel 

A  blethering,  blustering,  dmidien  blenom; 
Tlist  frae  November  till  October: 

-ket-day  thou  iras  nac  sober} 
That  ilka  melder,  wi'  tbs  miller, 
Tbon  sac  as  Inng  as  thou  liad  siller; 


igfonor 


That 
The  SI 

.  ..  the  Lord's  house,  ei'n  on  Sondsy, 
Thon    drank    wi'  Sirton  Jean   till    Mou- 

day.  (138) 
She  prophesied,  that,  late  or  soon, 
Thon  would  he  fouiul  deep  dronu'd  ui  Doon, 
Or  catch'd  wi"  warlocks  in  the  mirt 
By  Alloway'i  auld  haunted  kirk. 
Ah,  gentle  dames  I  it  gars  ine  greet. 
To  think  how  mony  counsels  sweet. 
How  mony  lengthcn'd  sage  adiices. 
The  husband  frae  the  wife  despises; 
But  to  our  tale :— Ae  market  night, 
Tam  had  got  planted  unco  r%ht. 


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TAM  0'   SnANTEB. 


Fjst  by  an  ingle,  bteeaing  finely, 

Wi'  leaning  swato,  that  drmik  divioel;  ; 

And  at  his  elbait.  Saucer  JaUnny, 


Tlie  Sonter 

The  landlord's  laugh  was  ready  chorus : 

The  storm  without  might  tair  ani  rustle — 


Care,  mad  to  i 
E'en  drown'd ' 
Aa  bees  fiee  hi 


But  pleasures 


A  niomwit  while— then  mella  for  ever  j 
Or  like  the  boiealis  race. 
That  flit  ere  you  can  point  their  place; 
Or  like  the  rambow'a  lovely  form 
Evauiahing  amid  tlie  scoriu. 
Nae  man  can  tether  time  or  Hie, 
The  houc  apptouciioa  Tain  niauii  ride  j 
That  hour,  o'  uij;ht'a  bUck  arch  the  key- 
Thai  dreary  hour  he  mounts  his  beast  on ; 
And  aic  a  night  he  Uks  the  rood  iu 
A»  ne'er  poor  siimer  wa*  abroad  in. 
The  iriod  hlen-  aa  "tnad  bhtwa  its  last ; 
liie  rattling  shoiv'ra  ruie  on  Che  blaat ; 
The  speedy  gleauia  the  darknoas  swallow'd, 
Loud,  deep,  and  lang  tlie  thunder  heUun'd : 
That  niphc,  a  ciiUd  roiglit  uudewiand. 


Thedc 


luited  oi 


is  grey  mari^  M^, 


Whiles  glov'ring  round  wi  prudent  cuei 
Ifist  bnglea  catch  him  iinnwnres. 
Kirk-Alloway  was  drawing  i^igh  (139), 
Where  ghtuata  and  owleta  nightly  cry. 


VVhere  in  tbi 


Aud  past  the  blriis  and  meikle  staiie, 
Where  drunken  Charlie  brak'a  neck  bana ; 
And  thro'  Ihe  whins,  and  by  the  cairn, 
Where  huuMn  Ciuid  the  mutder'd  baira  ; 


IT  the  tti 


oon  the  well, 


Where  Mungo's  n 

Before  him  Doon 

The  doublmg  ator 

The  ligSitninga  flash  froi 

Kear  and  more  near  the  thunders  roll; 

When  Klimmering-  thro'  the  groaning  trees, 

Thro'ilka  bore  the  bi 
And  loud  resounded  i 
Inspiring  bold  John  1 
What  dangers  thou  c 
Wi'  lippenny,  n 


ang-d  herseL 
II  his  floods ; 
fs  thro'  Ilie  woods  J 


re  glaiicii^ 


ill  fece  the  devil  I— 
The  swats  sae  reani'd  in  Tamoiie's  noddle, 
Fsir  play,  he  car-d  nae  AtSla  a  boddle. 
But  Magftie  stood  right  sa 


Warlocks  and  w 
Nae  cotillon  brent  ueir  frae  Fpai 
But  hornpipes,  jigs,  itiathsiaya. 
Put  life  and  iqetlie  in  their  heeli 

Inhere  sat  auld  Nick,  ui  ahane  o' 
A  towue  tyke,  black,  g 
To  gie  them  music  was 


ight; 
la^jhtl 


end  Urge, 
arb  thei'n  skii^ 


That  shaw'd  the  de 
Audbysomedcvili 
Each  in  its  cauld  b 
By  which  he 


I  baud  lield  a  liglit— 
'i^n  »-»$  able 
e  haly  tabla, 
A  murderer's  banes  in  gibbet  urns ; 

wee  unohriaten'd  bairns ; 
A  thief,  new-cutled  &ae  a  rape, 
his  lasl  gasp  bis  gab  dvi  gape  i 
tonuihawka,  wi'  bluid  red- rusted; 

A  garter,  which  a  babe  had  strangled, 
A  kuife,  a  father's  throat  had  maugled, 

son  o' hfe  bereft, 

yet  slack  to  the  heft : 
Wi'  niaic  o'  horrible  and  awfu'. 
Which  ev'n  to  name  wad  be  nidawfn'. 

irth  and  fun  grew  bst  and  furious : 
id  louder  blew ; 


Thedi 


t,  they   set,  they    c 


And  Knket  at  it  in  her  sark  ; 

Now  Tarn,  oh  Tarn !  had  tliae  been  qi 

A'  ^lump  lud  strapping,  in  theii  teem 


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us 


BUESS'S  POETICAL  170EKS. 


Their  suks,  inslead  d'  crcesbie  flauiien. 
Been  aniwl'nliLM  seventeeii-huiiikr  Jinen 

Tbg[  encE  neie  plueh  o'  gaid  blue  bair, 
1  itad  bae  gi'en  tbeoi  off  my  hutdies, 
For  a«  hla.Dk  o'  Voa  boQuie  butdiea  E 

But  itithec'd  belduiis,  mild  and  droll, 
Rigwoodie  bag$,  wed  ai>cui  a  foal, 

id  flmging  on  a  cnniraock. 


ahere  * 

Thn  night  enbsted  iu  tbe  co», 

S.ang  atter  kenn'd  on  Carrick  shore ; 
or  moiiy  a  beast  to  flead  she  shot, 
Ajid  perish'd  mony  a  boniiie  boJJt, 
And  shook  baith  uielkle  com  aiid  beei 
And  kept  the  coiuiiry-side  in  feu.) 
Her  cutty  Bark,  o'  Poieley  ham, 
That  nhile  a  lasaie  she  bad  won>^ 
In  longilflde  tho'  aoieW  Eunty, 


Ah !  little  kejiii'd  tby  reveti 
That  sark  she  coft  for  her  » 
■\Tl'twapundScots('[na3a 
■Wad  ever  grac'd  a  daiite  o' 
But  here  my  muse  liei-  Biuj; 
Sic  flights  are  &r  beyond  he 
To  sing  how  ^^lUlnie  lap  nu< 


Aud  thought  hi 
Even  Satan  glo 
And  holch'd  an 
Till  first  ae  capi 
Tarn  tint  his  te: 


angry  fyke. 


re  their  noae ; 

owd. 

rounds  alondj 


As  bees  hiaz  out 

"Wlien  pluaderiu; 

Ab  open  pusaie'a  luoriui 

■When,  pop  I  ahe  starts  1 

As  eager  runs  the  marki 

■HTieifCalcli  the  thief 

80  Maggie  niiia,  tlie  witches  follow, 

•Wi'  mouy  an  eldritch  screech  and  hollow. 

Ah,  Tarn  1  ah.  Tarn !  thou'll  gel  thy  lairin"  1 

In  bell  theyll  roast  thee  like  a  hetrm'  1 

In  vain  thy  Kate  awaits  thy  comm'  1 

liate  so 


A  running  stream  they  daieoa  era 
Bui  ere  the  key-stane  ahe  could  rn 
Ihe  Cent  a  tail  she  had  to  shake  1 


Afl  spring  brought  olf  her  master  hal^ 
But  left  behind  her  Bin  grey  tail ; 
The  earline  caught  her  by  the  rump, 
Aud  left  poor  iiaggie  scarce  a  stump. 

Nan.  wha  this  tale  0'  truth  shall  read. 
Ilk  man  and  mother's  son  lake  heed  1 
Whene'er  to  driuk  you  ate  iiidin'd. 
Or  cutty-sarks  run  in  your  mind. 
Think  I  je  may  buy  the  joya  over  dear- 


■Jrsjir  ^lupitiif.  (HI) 

All  devii  as  I  am,  a  damned  metch, 

A  barden'd,  stubborn,  unrepeutiog  nTlaln, 


And  with  sincere  tb 


Whose  unanbrnittin;  heart  was  all  his  crime, 
liven  you,  ye  helpless  crew,  1  pity  you ; 
Ye  vlioni  the  seeming  good  thmk  sin  to  pity  { 
Ye  poor,  despia'd,  abaurlou'd  vagabunus. 
Whom  vice,  as  uanal.  has  timi'd  o'er  to  ruhi. 
—Oh,  but  for  kind,  tho'  ill-requited  friends, 
I  bad  been  driveu  fcrth  like  you  forli.rn. 
The  most  detested,  vorihless  wietch  among 


Or  the  stormy  north  sends  driving  firlb 

While  tumbling  brown,  the  bum  comes  down, 

Aud  roars  frae  bank  to  biae ; 
And  bird  rn.d  beast  iu  covert  rest 

Aud  pass  Ihe  heartless  day. 
'  Tlie  sweeping  blast,  tbe  sky  o'ercaaf  (143), 

TLejoyless  winter  day 

Bt  others  feat,  to  me  more  dear 

Thau  all  the  pride  of  May: 
The  tempest's  howl,  it  soothes  my  souJ, 

My  grieft  it  seems  to  join; 
The  leafless  trees  my  fancy  please, 

Theit  fate  resembles  muiel 
Thou  Power  Supreme,  whose  mighty  scheme 

These  woes  of  mme  fulfil, 

.ete,  Arm,  I  rest,  they  must  he  best. 

Because  they  are  tby  willl 


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ELEGT  ON 
Theii  nil  I  wont  (oh,  do  thou  grant 
Since  to  enjoy  thou  dost  denj'. 


Oh  thou  ^ent  Being!  wlmtthouAit 

Yet  sure  I  am,  tliat  known  to  Tliee 

Are  all  thy  works  Mow. 
Thy  ireature  here  before  Tliee  stsnda. 

All  wretched  and  diiCrest; 
Yet  sute  those  tils  that  nring  my  soul 

Obey  T^y  higli  beheat. 
Sure  Tliou,  Alniij:hty,  canst  not  not 

From  cruelty  ot  wrath ! 

Or  eluse  them  fast  in  death  1 
ButiflmusCiLaiktedH 


To  at 


with  fir 


resohei 


Oh  thou  nnknown,  Almighty  Cause 

Of  all  my  hope  and  fear ! 
tn  whose  dread  picseuce,  ere  an  hour, 

Perliapa  I  must  l^iiwar ! 
If  I  have  wander'd  in  those  paths 

Ot  lite  I  ought  to  shun  ; 

.oiidly,  in  my  breast, 


•.a  I  havi 


Hion  know'st  that  Tho«  hast  &irmed 
WiEE  passions  wild  and  strong'; 

AndlBt'ning  to  their  flitdiiug  voice 
Has  often  led  me  urooj. 

Or  frailty  stept  aside. 
Do  Thou,  All^ood  1  for  snch  thou  ai 

In  shades  of  darkness  lude. 
Where  with  intention  I  have  ert'd. 

No  other  plea  I  hate. 
But.  Thon  art  EOo'U  eni  goodness  ! 

Udightetli  W  forgive. 


EUISSEAUX, 

ome  drops  of  joy  with  draughts  of  ill 


Or  death's  unlovely,  dreary,  dark  aboJe? 

ror  guilt,  for  guilt,  my  terrors  ate  in  arms ; 

I  tremble  to  approach  an  angry  God, 


Who  sill  so  oR  have  monm'd,  yet  to  te 

Oh  Thou,  great  Governor  of  all  below  I 
il  I  loav  dare  a  Ufted  eye  to  Thee, 

Thy  nod  can  make  the  tempest  ceasi 
blow. 
Or  still  the  tumult  of  the  rapng  sea 

Tliose  headloux  fiuioua  passions  to  i 
Une; 
For  all  unfit  I  feel  mv  pow'rs  to  be. 
To  rule  thtir  torrent  in  the  hallowed  li 
Oh,  aid  me  with  Thy  help,  Omnipote 


€\m  HE  ffti!  fflcaflr  of  Tmlrrt  Unisstaui. 

(146.) 
Now  Eobin  lies  in  his  last  Mr, 
Heli  gabble  rhyme,  nor  sing  nae  mair, 
Canld  poverty,  mi'  hungry  stare, 

Nae  ToaiL'  shall  fear  him; 


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BURNS'S  POETICAL  WOEKS. 


ifjjE  Cat!. 


ibrth,  snd  grow  up,  Uke  ciWEs  c 

BioBT,  Sir  i  yoor  teit  111  pro™ 

Thtnigli  Her«ica  may  iBugh ; 


Mcolf! 


a  kirk, 


God  kaom, 
And  Bhon)d  bo 

Ab  blesa  you  ni'  a 
I  doubt  na,  Sir,  but  tiicii  ive  ii  lum, 

Te're  slin  aa  great  a  stirk. 
But,  if  the  lo?er*8  raptur'd  hour 

Shall  ever  be  your  lot, 
Forbid  it,  er'ry  heavenly  power 

You  e'er  should  he  a  Scot ! 
Tho',  Then  some  kind,  connubial  dear, 


Your  but- 


The  hi 


Few  men  o'  sense  nill  doubt  youi  ekuma 

To  rank  aniang  the  iiowle. 
And  wlien  ye're  iinmber'ii  wi'  the  dead. 

Below  a  grassy  hillock, 
TVi' justice  they  may  mark  your  head— • 

"  Here  lies  a  famous  buUock !" 

OK  THE   HOLY  TULZIE.  {US) 

Oh  a'  ye  pioua  ROdly  flocks. 
Weel  fed  on  pastures  onhodoi, 
Wha  now  will  keep  you  ftae  the  foi, 

Or  worrying  tvkes. 
Or  wha  irill  tent  the  waifa  aud  crocka. 

About  the  dykes? 
The  twa  best  herds  m  n'  the  was^ 
tr  gae  gospel  horn  a  blast, 


These  til 


Ohl  . 


to  (ell. 


Ha'e  had  a  bitter  block  out-east 

Oh,  Moodie,  man,  and  wordy  Ruaaell, 
How  could  you  raise  so  vile  a  bustle, 
Te'Q  see  how  New-Light  herds  nill  whiall^ 
Andthir  '    ■ 


ergotai. 


Towi 
I'D  be  (hi 


by  laifda  reapaclut. 


Prae  Calvin 
The  thumni 


I  well,  aye  elear,  they  drank — 


acit  (lieit  ilka  hale  ui 

Baith  out  aud  in. 
And  weel  he  lik'd  to  shed  their  bluicl. 

And  sell  their  akin. 
What  herd  like  Russell  (149)  tell'd  his  tale 
His  voice  was  heard  thro'  rauir  and  d^. 
He  keiin'd  the  Lord's  sheep,  ilka  tail. 

O'er  a'  llie  height. 


He  fine  a  mangy  sheep  co 
Or  nobly  fling  the  gospel 
And  Now-Light  herds  coi 


hem  o'er  the  buniing  dnb, 


Sic  twa— Ohl  do  I 


A'  ve  irha  tent  the  gospel  fiiuld. 

There's  ihuican   (1  Si)},  deep,  and  Peebles, 

shaul  (131), 
But  cWefly  thou,  a]>ostle  Auld  {153}, 

We  trust  in  thee. 
That  thou  wilt  nork  them,  bet  and  cauld. 

Till  they  agree. 


w  we're  beset; 
laug  that  cursed 


I  hope  fiae  beav'n  to  see  theni  yet 

Dalrvmple  1153}  has  been  lang  om  fae, 
Jl'Gill  (154)  has  wrought  us  meikle  wae. 
And  that  curs'd  rascal  m'd  M'Ouhae  (1S3), 

And  baith  the  Shava  (156), 
That  aft  ha'e  made  us  black  and  hlae, 

AuldWodrow  (157)  ls,ag  has  hateh'dniiacliiet 
We  thought  aye  death  wad  bring  relief. 
But  he  has  gotten,  to  our  grief, 

A  ehiehl  whi'll  soundly  buff  our  beef; 
1  meikle  dread  him. 


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And  mon;  ■  me  thst  I  conld  telt, 
win  fidn  would  openly  rebel, 
Forbj-e  tum-coata  amms  ouraeL 

'fbere's  Smith  for  one, 
I  doubt  he's  but  h  grey-uick  quill. 

And  that  ye'll  fin'. 
Oh  1  a'  ;e  Socks  o'er  a'  tbe  hills. 
By  mosses,  meadows,  moora  and  Ma, 
Come,  join  your  counsel  nud  jour  sblls 

To  «o«e  tbe  lairds. 
And  get  tbe  brutes  the  powers  themsel) 


HOLT  -WILLIE'S  PEAYEE. 

Bat  jet,  oh  Lord  I  i 


Thai  bites  sas  sair, 
Be  baniah'd  o'er  t\\e  sea  to  France : 

Let  him  bark  there. 
Then  Shaw's  sod  Dalrymple's  eloquence, 
M'Gill's  dose  nervous  e^itclleuce, 
Quhae's  pathetic  manly  sense. 

And  guid  M'Math,  [1B3 

Wi'  6mith,  wba  thto'  the  heart  can  gluice, 

Muj  a'  puck  sE 


DeM'd  iu  aiu. 

Maybe  thou  Icts't  this  fleshly  thorn. 
Beset  thy  aervanl  e'en  aud  mom, 

'le  owre  high  Bnd  proud  should  tn 

'Cause  he's  sne  gifted ; 

It  sae,  thy  ban'  maun  e'en  be  borne, 

Dntil 

d,  biess  thy  dios 

here  thou  hast  i 

ButGod.confoundtl 


•a  lift  it. 

in  this  place. 


Lord,  mind  Gaw'u  Hanii 
He  drinks,  and  swears. 
Yet  has  sae  mouy  taki 


and  ])loj3  at  carter 


ha  in  the  heavens  dost  dwd 
ileases  best  thjsel', 


Or  Thou,  ■ 
Wha,aait 
Sends  ane  1. 

A'  for  thy  g^oij. 
And  no  for  ony  giude  or  Ul 

'J^hej've  done  afo 
I  bless  and  praiae  thy  matchless  ui 
Wheu  thouBouda  thon  host  left  in 
That  I  am  here  aCure  thy  sight. 

d  grae^ 


hell. 


thee  I 


A  bumin'  aud  a 


'  liglit 


To  a'  this  f  kce. 
Whit  was  1,  or  my  generatton. 
That  1  should  ^et  sic  exaltation, 
1  wha  desene  sic  just  dauiuatiou. 

Eve  thouaand  years  'fore  my  creatio 
Thro'  Adam's  cause. 

When  frae  my  mither's  womb  I  fell. 

Thou  might  hae  plunged  me  into  bel 

To  gnash  my  gunis,  to  weep  and  wail 
In  hurnin'  late, 

Where  damned  devils  roar  and  yell, 
Chain'd  to  B  stake. 

Yet  I  am  here 

To  show  thy  gi 


Strong  aE 


;mple. 


iplei 


ve  chasten'd  him  thercforl^ 


Oh  Lord  my  God,  that  glih-toogu'd  Aikin, 
My  very  heart  and  eaul  are  quakin', 
To  think  how  we  stood  groanin',  shalda' 

While  he  wi'  hingin'  lipa  and  anakin'. 
Held  up  his  head. 

Lord,  in  the  day  of  ven^nnce  try  him, 
Lord,  visit  them  wha  did  employ  him, 
lOSi  not  in  thy  mercy  by  'em, 

or  thy  people's  sake  destroy  'em. 
And  dinna  spate. 
But,  Lord,  remember  me  aud  mine. 
That  I  for  geai 


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BTIRXS'3  POETICAL  1 


Hebe  Holy  WiUio's  anir-wora  clay 

Taks  up  its  last  abode ; 
His  soul  has  ta'en  some  other  way, 

I  fear  the  left-hand  road. 

Foo7,  silly  body,  see  him  j 
Nae  wonder  he's  es  blacli's  the  gtun 
Observe  nha'a  somding  wi'  him. 

Has  got  him  there  bdbte  ye ; 


And  nieicy' 

day  is  gaeii 

But  hew  me,  s 

r.dei 

as  ye 

Looksomet 

Aeoofhkehimwad 

S^ostU  in  Sfllm  Sniiilb  if  ISilmHrnEt 


Oh  Goodie!  terror  of  the  ■\Vhigi, 
Dreid  of  black  coats  aud  rev'rcnd 
Sour  Bigotiy,  on  her  last  legs, 

Giniin',  looks  back, 
Wishin"  the  ten  Egyptian  plague 


AUsI  there's  ground  o' great  suspidoB 

iShell  ne'er  get  better. 
Auld  Otthotlojy  Ian  J  did  grapple. 
But  now  she'a  g  t  an  unco  ripi.le ; 
Haste,  gie"  her  name  up  i'  the  chapel. 

Nigh  uuto  death ; 
See,  how  she  fetches  at  the  thrapple, 
And  gasps  tot  breath, 
Enthusiasm's  past  redemption, 
Gane  in  a  gallopiiij  consumption, 
"'  "    ■ "■   ir^mplion. 


Willev 


Her  feeble  pnlse 

DCLIl  «OOU  WMI  I 

Tis  yon  and  Taylor  (161)  are  t 
Wha  are  to  blame  for  this  misc 
But  gin  the  Lord's  ain  (ouk  ga; 

A  toom  tar-liarre 
And  tw&  red  peats  wad  send  re 

Aud  end  the  i^ua 


Jjpiailc  ill  §d!iii  f\S3skm, 

EBCLOSINS   SOME   POEMS.   (162) 

Oh  rough,  rude,  ready-witted  Hankine, 
The  wale  o'  cocka  for  fun  and  drinkin'  I 
There's  mony  godly  folks  aie  thinkin', 

Yoar  dreams  {Wi)  and  tricks 
Wm  send  yon,  Korah-like,  a-sinkin', 

Stratight  to  Auld  Nick's. 


Ye  mak  a.  devil  a'  the  saunts, 

And  mi  them  fou  (164); 
And  then  their  faihugs,  flaws,  and  wantf^ 


Hj-pocrigy,  in  mercy  apart 


That 


olyrc 


«it. 


But  your  cd 


iir  sakes  wha  afieu  w 
The  kds  in  black! 
t  wit,  when  it  comes  near  it, 
Bives't  aff  their  back. 
Think,  wicked  ainncr,  wha  ye're  skmthii^ 
It's  just  the  blue-gown  bad;^  and  ohdthine 
tVaa-—     ■  ■ ■-' 


t,  ye  1 


Yon  aang  (163),  ye'll  se 


Cliirii  Qfi'Ah  in  inijii  i:aiii;.iilf.  (io«) 

SepUmier  13, 1735. 
Goon  speed  and  furdcr  to  you,  Johnny, 


^iuide  Ik 


.,  _  re  nickan  down  fu'  caiiuy 

The  atalf  o'  bread. 
May  ye  ne'er  want  a  stoup  o'  hran"? 

To  clear  your  head. 
Jlay  Boreas  nei'er  thresh  your  rigs, 
Nor  kick  your  ricklea  aff  their  legs, 
Seiidm'  the  stuff  o'er  muira  and  iiaggs 

Like  drivin'  wrack ; 
But  may  the  tapmasc  grain  that  wagB 


Tmbi 


Wi'  muckle  wark, 


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TAM    O'  SHAMTER. 


The  ]jiper  loucL  azifL  lonilsi'  bls"^- 
Tlie  ■km.'jerE   ijiool:  and.  ipirkm^  He 


I,  Google 


Ho,t,db,  Google 


It'a  now  tn 
For  yoiir  b 
Abusin'mt 


EPISTLE  TO  TEE  EEV.  JOHN  1 

.th  that  I^m  your  ils btor, 
ameksB,  dUekis  letter, 


But  let  the  Wrk-folk  ting  their  hens, 
Let's  sing  about  out  noble  ael's ; 
We'd  cry  uw  jada  frae  heathen  hilb 

To  help,  or  roose  ns. 
But  browater  wives  and  whiskey  atilla. 

They  are  tlie  mueea. 
Tonr  friendship,  Hit,  I  winna  quat  it. 
And  if  ye  mak  objection!  at  it. 
Then  han'  iu  iiieve  some  day  we'll  knot  it. 


Andwl 


Andwi 


It  winna  break. 
But  if  the  bejst  and  hranka  he  spar'd 
Till  kye  be  gaun  without  the  hem. 
And  a'  die  rittel  in  the  jTird, 

And  tlieckil  right, 
I  mean  your  ingle-side  to  guard 

Then  muse-inspicin'  aqua  vita; 

Shall  make  us  haith  aaa  blyihe  sad  witty 

Till  ya  forget  ye're  auld  and  gatty, 


ir  leas  than  thretty, 


As  ye  were  m 

But  atooka  tai 
And  now  the : 
Theulmaun 


Cjistll  fE  tjlE  K(n.  Sflllll  ffi'mstll.  (167) 
Ssplembei- 17, 1785, 
While  at  the  stook  the  shearers  coWr 
To  shun  the  bitisr  blaudin'  show'r. 
Or  in  gulraiape  rimim'  acow'r 

To  pass  the  tini^ 
To  you  I  dedicate  the  hour 


Mym 


On  gown,  and  ban',  and  douse  block  bonnet, 
la  grown  right  eerie  now  she's  done  it, 

Lest  they  should  blame  her. 
And  rouse  their  holy  thunder  on  it 

I  own  twas  rash,  and  rather  hardy. 
That  1,  a  simple,  eountri  bardie, 
Shou'd  meddle  wi'  a  pack  sae  sturdy, 
Wha,  if  they  ken  me. 


Cuiea 


single  V 
Louse  h-11  upon  me. 


Whase  greed,  revenge,  and  ptid 

Waur  nor  their  c 

'Hiere's  Gttwn  aSS),  miscat  wani 


See  him,  the  poor  mau'a  friend  in  need. 
The  gentleman  in  word  and  deed. 
And  shaU  his  fame  and  liunour  bleed 
By  worthless  skellnma, 

Tocowelheblellums? 


Andnc 


Oh,  Pope,  had  I  thy  satire's  darts 
To  gie  the  rascals  their  deserts, 
I'd  rip  theu  rotten,  hollow  hearty 

And  tell  aloud 
Their  juggliu'  hocus-pocus  arts 

To  cheat  the  crowd. 
God  knows,  I'm  no  the  thing  I  shou'd  be, 
Not  aui.  I  even  the  thing  I  cou'd  be. 


in'd  he 


Then  under  guspct  colours  hid  be 
Just  for  a  screen. 

But  me»n  revenge,  and  malice  fans^ 

He'U  stiU  disdain. 
And  then  cry  seal  for 


Like  some  we  ken. 


Forv 


ice  skouth 
wight, 


And  hunt  him  down,  o'er  right  and  nlth. 

To  ruin  straight. 
All  hmt,  Bcligion  t  mud  dilute  I 
Pardon  a  muse  sae  mean  as  mine. 
Who  iu  lier  rough  imperfect  line, 

To  stigmatise  false  friends  of  thine 

Tho'  hloteh't  and  foul  wi'  mony  a  stain, 

And  he  unworthy  of  thy  train. 

With  trembUng  voice  1  tune  my  strain 

To  join  with  those 
Who  boldly  daur  tliy  cause  maintain 


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la  spite  a*  dark  banditti  stabs 

Ai  wonh  aodrit 

By  scoundrels,  even  »i'  holy  robe 

But  hellish  spite. 

Oh  Ayr !  my  dear,  my  native  gro 

und, 

Within  thy  prcdbyteri^  bound 

A  candid  lib'ralb«id  is  found 

Of  public  teachers 

Aa  men,  as  Chnsuaiis  too,  renow 

n'd, 

And  manly  preachers. 

Sir,  in  that  circle  you  are  nun'd ; 

Sir.  iu  thai  circle  you  are  ftm'd; 

And  some,  by  whom  your  doctrine's  blam'd 

(Which  Kiea  you  h 

lYn  Sir,  by  them  your  heat's  ea 

eem'd. 

And  winning  man 

PardcHi  this  freedom  I  have  ta'eo. 

JmpuM  it  not,  good  Sir,  in  ane 

BUENS'S  POETIOAI.  WOKKS. 

Then  Montague,  and  Guildford,  too. 

Began  to  tear  a  fa',  mail; 
Aad  f^ackville  dour,  nha  stood  the  atour^ 

The  Germaa  Chief  to  thraw,  man : 
For  Faddy  Burke,  like  ooy  Turk, 

Nae  mercy  had  at  a',  man; 
And  Charlie  Foa  threw  by  the  boi, 

And  luws-d  his  tiokler  jaw,  man. 
Then  K«ckingham  took  up  the  gams. 

Till  death  did  on  him  ca",  man ; 
When  Bhelburne  meek  held  up  hia  cheek, 

Caiifotui  to  gospel  law,  man ; 
Saint  Stephen's  boys,  wi'  jatring  nois^ 

They  did  bis  meaautes  thraw,  man. 
For  North  and  Fox  united  stocks, 
iid  bote  liim  to  the  yii.',  man. 
II  clubs  and  hearts  nere  Charlie's  cutcs, 
[e  swept  the  stakes  awa',  man, 
•nil  the  diamond's  ace,  of  Indian  rani 


ig'^ye. 


A  pn*aMENi.  (139) 
When  Guildford  good  our  pilot  stood. 

And  did  our  helm  thtaw,  man, 
Ae  n^hl,  at  tea,  began  a  ^ea, 

Wifliin  America,  man ; 
fDien  up  they  gat  the  maskin'-pat. 

And  in  the  sea  did  jair.  man ; 
And  did  nae  less,  in  full  Congreaa, 

Than  quite  refusa  our  law,  num. 
Ilien  thro'  tlic  bkes  Montgomery  takes. 


But  yet,  u'hal-fetli,  he.  at  duehwv 

Wi'  sword  in  hand,  before  hia  band, 

Amang  his  cu'mles  a',  man. 
roor  Tamroy  Gage,  withm  a  cage. 

Was  kept  at  Boston  ha',  man ; 
mil  Willie  Hone  took  o'er  Ihc  knows 

Pot  Philadelphia,  man: 
Wi'  sword  and  ^n  he  thought  a  sin 

Guid  Christian  blood  to  draw,  man ! 
But  at  New  York,  wi'  knife  and  fork, 

Burgoyne  goed  up,  like  spur  and  wh^, 
l^ill  Fraser  brave  did  ft',  man ; 

Then  lost  his  way,  ae  misty  day. 
In  Saratoga  shaw,  man. 

Comwallia  fought  aa  lang's  he  dought. 
And  did  the  huckakins  claw,  man ; 


)n  Chatham's  boy  did  ca',  man ; 
And  Scotland  drew  her  pipe,  and  blew, 

"Ip,  Willie, WBUcthema'.man!" 
Behind  the  throne  then  Orcnville's  goa 

A  secret  word  or  twa.  man ; 
While  alee  Dundaa  arous'd  the  class. 

And  Chatham's  wraith,  in  heavenly  grmtb, 

(Inspired  Bardies  saw,  man) 
Wi'  kindling  eyes  cry'd.  "  Willie,  rise  I 

Would  I  hae  fear'd  them  a',  man  ?" 
But,  word  and  blow.  North.  Foi,  and  Co, 

Goirtrd  Willie  like  a  ha',  man. 


And  Caledan  tiirew  by  the  drone. 

And  did  her  whittle  draw,  man ; 
And  swoor  fu'  inde,  thro'  dirt  and  btood. 

To  make  it  guid  in  b«,  man,  (170) 


)ur  auld-farrant,  frien'ly  letter; 
[  maun  sayt,  1  doubt  ye  flatter. 

Ye  speak  sae  fair, 
ly  puir.  Mlly,  ihymin'  clatter 

be  your  heart,  hole  be  your  fiddle : 
may  your  elbock  jink  and  diddle, 
eec  yun  thto'  the  weary  widdle 


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THE  FIRST  PSALM. 


Bat,  Dittit  I*d,  Fm  red  ye're  ghibit ; 
rm  tanld  the  muse  ye  hae  negleckiti 
Ajnd  fflf  it'i  aae,  ye  sud  be  licSet 

Sc  hnuns  aa  you     '    -'    ■--  '-■•-■- 


Be  ha 


mlike. 


Bivin'  the  morJj  to  gar  them  clink; 
"Whylea  daea't  wi'  love,  whjlca  daea' 

And  wbjles,  but  aye  owre  late,  !  think 
Slew  sober  leasona. 


The  devil- 


le  pkn 


■  clink. 


,uglu-a 


Thej 
N»e  thonEht,  nae  v 
Nsecarestogieus.  .       . 
But  just  tbe  pouchie  pat  tlie 

Tiiea  biltie  skiltie,  we  gi 


LeeM  me  on  rhyme !  it's  aye  a 
My  chief,  oniaisl  my  only  pleasi 
At  hime,  a-fiel',  at  wark,  or  leisi 
Tbe  Miue,  poor  h 
Tho'  rough  and  raploch  be  her  r 


Hind  to  the  Mnee,  my  danty  Dane : 
•Hie  warl'  may  play  yon  moiiie  »  aha>ie ; 
But  for  the  Muse,  she'll  never  leave  ye. 


Au.  haS  1  inexorable  lord  I 

At  whose  destruction-breathing  word 

The  mightiest  empires  fall  I 
Thy  oraei.  woe-delighted  train, 
The  ministers  of  grief  and  pain. 

With  stern-resolv'd,  despairing  eye, 

1  aee  each  anued  dart ! 
For  one  has  cut  my  dearest  tie. 
And  qaiven  in  my  heart. 
Then  low'ring  and  pouring, 

Tbe  storm  no  more  I  dread ; 
Though  thick'ning  and  black'ning, 
Ibwnd  my  devoted  bead. 


And  thoa  grim  pow'r,  by  life  abborr'd, 
While  hfe  a  pleasure  can  afford. 

Oh  hear  a  wretch's  prayer  I 
No  more  I  shrink  appall' d,  afiraid; 
I  court,  I  beg  thy  friendly  aid. 

To  close  this  scene  of  care  1 
'Wlicn  shall  my  soul,  in  silent  peace, 

Eesign  life's  joyleaa  day; 
My  weary  heart  its  throbbings  cea», 

Cold  mould'ring  in  the  clay? 

To  stain  my  lifeless  face ;' 
Enclasped,  and  grasped 
Within  tby  cold  einbracBl 


t\}t  /irst  sii  iltrsts  nf  ili:  Einriirfl 

^ssliu. 

Oh  Thon,  the  first,  the  greatest  ftiend 

Of  oU  the  human  race  I 
Whose  strong  right  hand  has  ever  been 

Their  stay  and  dwelling  place  1 
Before  the  mountains  heav'd  th^r  heads. 

Beneath  Thy  forming  hand, 
Before  this  ponderous  globe  itself 

Arose  at  I'hy  oouiuiaud ; 


which  raised  and  still  upholds 

ess,  unbe^nnmg  tima 
••asevcc  still  the  same. 
Those  mighty  periods  o 


er.layth 


re  Thy  sight 


They  flourish  Uke  the  moi 
In  beauty's  pride  arra; 

But  long  here  night,  cut  c 
All  wither'd  and  decay' 


ffilH  /irst  ^Ballll. 

TuE  roan,  in  life  wherever  plac"^ 

Hath  happiness  in  store. 
Who  walks  not  in  the  wicked's  my, 

Uor  learns  Ibeii  guilt}  loixl 


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Hor  from  tlie  ee 


BTJRNS'S  POE'nCU,   W0RK8. 
iroM  ptide 


1  shall  flourish  like  th 


But  he  whose  hlossom  biids  in  guilt. 
Shall  to  the  ground,  be  cast, 

And.  like  the  rooUeas  atubbie,  t03t 
Before  the  sleepiug  blast. 

For  why  ?  that  God  the  good  adore 


You  or 


1  auld  wife's  1 


a  spy 
in  toy; 


But  Miss's  fine  Limardi!  fiel'  (llS) 

How  dam  JO  dot? 
Oh,  Jen 


sa  yonr  head. 


The  hi 


It  wad  frae  m 
What  drs  in 


hegiftiegieus 
yd  gait  wad  lea'e  i 


Cjit  SnntntDtii. 


Tto",  faith,  I  fear  ye  dine  but  sparely 
On  sic  a  place. 

Te  ugly,  cteepin",  hiastit  wonncr, 
Detegted,  ahunii'd,  by  saHTit  and  sinner. 
How  dare  you  set  jour  feet  upon  her, 

Sae  line  a  lady  I 
Gae  somewhere  else,  and  seek  jour  dhiner 

On  some  poor  body. 

There  je  may  creep,  and  sprawl  and  aprattlt 
Wi'  ither  kindred,  jumping  cattle, 

Whue  horn  nor  bane  ne'er  daar  nnaettle 

Your  thick  plantations. 
Now  hand  you  there,  ye 


Below  the  f 
Na,  fiiith  je  yet 


ig  and  ti| 


1111  ye 


Or  fell,  red  smeddum. 
Wad  dresa  jout  dtoddum ! 


o'  BBllanl 
is  ever  drew  afore  a  pettle. 
My  han'  atore's  (174)  a  gnde  aulil  has  been 
^nd  u-ighC  and  wilfn'  a'  his  days  l>een. 
Uy  ban'  ahm'a  (175)  a  weel  gann  lilly. 
That  aft  haa  home  me  hame  frae  Killie  (176), 

id  your  aald  burro'  mony  a  time. 
In  days  when  riding  was  nae  crime — 

I  like  a  blockhead  boost  to  ride, 


i  play'd  my  fllty  sic  a  sliavie, 
""  '  '  ■  *  ril*d  with  the  apavif 
i  (177)  a  wordy  bea 
As  e'er  in  tug  or  tow  was  trae'i 
The  fourth's  a  Highland  Donald 
1  wud  Kilburoie  blast 
roihje  a  cowte  o'  cowtea  the  wale 


If  he  be  spar'd  to 
draw  me  Eft. 

Three  carts,  aud  t- 


pun'  at  le 
e  but  few, 
a  fecklj  u( 


Ae  leg  and  baith  the  trams  are  i 
I  made  a  poker  o'  the  spinle, 
Aud  my  auld  mither  bmnt  the  I 


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■WILLIE  CHALMERS. 


For  men,  T-n  three  misfhieyous  bop, 
EnD  de'Ua  for  rantm'  ond  for  noise; 
A  gundamon  ane.  b  tbrasher  t'other, 
Wee  Davock  hiuda  the  nowt  hi  fothet. 
I  rule  theiB,  ax  I  ought,  di3Creet)y. 
And  »ften  labour  them  eiHnjiletely  j 
And  aye  on  Sundsya  duly,  rigbtlj, 
I  on  the  Queslions  large  Then  tightly ; 
Till,  fiuth,  wee  Davoek's  tutn'd  sae  gleg, 
Tho'  Bcsrcely  longer  than  your  lea, 
He11  screed  you  aS  Elfectuol  Cslling  (178), 
As  fast  as  ony  in  the  dwalling. 

(L —  keep  me  aye  frae  a'  temptation !) 
1  hae  nae  wife — and  that  my  bliss  is, 
And  ye  have  laid  nae  tai£  on  niisscs ; 
And  then,  if  Urk  folks  dmna  dutch  me, 
I  ken  the  devils  daie  iia  touch  me. 
Wi'  weani  I'm  mair  than  weel  contented, 
Heav'n  sent  me  aue  niae  than  I  wauled 
My  aonaie  smirkiui;  dear-bought  Bess  (179), 
She  stares  the  daddy  in  her  {see, 
Enough  of  ou^t  ye  like  but  grace ; 
But  her,  my  bonny  sweet  vee  lady, 
rre  paid  enongh  for  her  already. 
And  gin  ye  tM  her  or  her  miiber, 
B'  the  lAl  ye'seget  tliem  a'  thcgithei. 

And  now,  remember,  Sir.  Aiken, 
Nae  kind  of  licence  out  I'm  takui' ; 
Thro'  dirt  and  dub  for  bfe  I'U  paidle. 
Ere  I  aae  dear  pay  fur  a  saddle ; 
ily  travel  ao  n  foot  I'll  shank  it. 
sturdy  bearers,  Gude  be  tbabkit. 


Bat  lest  he  leam  (he  eallan  trick 
I,  f^th,  I  muckle  doubt  him 

id  tellui'  lies  about  them ; 


And  'bout  a  house  that's  rude  and  lough, 

The  boy  might  leara  to  B\>eai ; 
But  then  ni'  you  he'U  he  sae  taught, 
A  get  sic  (air  example  atraught, 

1  hivens  ony  fear. 
Ye'll  catechise  him  every  qoirli. 

And  shore  him  wcel  wi'  hell ; 
And  gar  him  follow  to  the  kirk — ■ 

— Aye  when  ye  gang  yourseL 

Fnie  harae  this  comm'  Friday ; 
Then  please.  Sir.  to  ka'e,  Sn, 
The  orders  wi'  your  lady. 

My  word  of  hononr  I  hae  gien. 

In  Paisley  Jolui's.  that  night  at  e'en. 

To  meet  the  warld'a  worm ; 
To  try  to  get  the  |-va  to  grea, 
And  name  the  Bulesa  (ISl)  and  the  fe^ 

lu  legal  mode  and  Ibmi: 
1  ken  lie  weel  a  snick  can  dnnr, 
simple  bodies  let  him  j 


t.nd  if  a 


Saedi 


while  sliilliiigs  lake. 


In  &ith  he's  sure  to  ml  him. 
To  phrase  you,  and  praise  y< 
Ye  ken  your  LaureM  scon 


The  day  and  date  n^ 
Thea  know  all  ye  « 
Subaen}i»i  huic. 


Mossi!  el  Hay  3  i 
1  HOtD  It  ''ir  my  bon  den  duty 
To  warn  you  how  that  Master  Tootle, 
Alias,  laird  M'Gaun, 

^ont  whom  ye  spak  the  liiber  day. 
And  wad  hae  don't  aff  hau' : 


Wi'  brow  new  branka  in  miclde  pride, 

Anil  eke  abraw  new  btechan. 
My  Fcgasu!  I'm  got  astride. 

And  up  Faruassut  pechin ; 
Whiles  otfre  a  bush  wi'  downward  cnub. 

The  doited  beastie  stammers; 
Then  up  he  gets  and  off  he  sels 

For  sake  o'  Wilhe  Cluilraera. 

I  doubt  na,  lasB,  that  weel  kenn'd  nuae 
lae  stranger  to  your  famt^ 


Ho,t,db,  Google 


BCESS'S  rOETICAI.  "WORKS. 


AuU  truth  herae!'  might  swear  ye'r 
And  honour  safely  back  her. 


I  donht  UB  tortnue  may  yon  shore 
Fu'  lifted  up  ai'  Hehrew  lore, 

Bnt  oh  I  what  aigiiihes  to  you 

His  lexicons  ^id  gramruars ; 
Bib  feeling  heart's  the  roynl  blue. 

And  that's  «i'  WilUe  Ohahners. 
Some  gapm'  glowrm'  countra  taird, 

May  Murale  tor  jour  favour ; 
May  daw  his  \ug,  and  straik  his  beard. 

And  hoaAE  up  dume  palaver. 
Uy  hunnie  maiii,  belure  ye  «ed 

Sic  dmiisy-wittcd  hdoimeri 


111  fur  help,  uud  barefit  ske^ 


Am'  wi'  « illia  Chaliuc 
Forgire  the  Bard  1  i 


^™ 


tints  aBrifltii  flit  a  %uk  lak.  (iss) 

Wae  worth  thy  puirer,  thou  cursed  leaf. 
Fell  source  o'  a'  luy  n  oe  aiid  grief : 
Pot  laek  o'  thee  Tie  luat  my  lass. 


e  I  leave  this  much  loyed 


Dove-hke  fondness,  chaste  confession. 
Glowing  dawn  of  brighler  day. 

Sorronino;  joy,  adieu's  last  action. 

When  ling'ring  lips  no  more  muatjom; 

\\1iat  words  can  ever  speak  alFection, 
So  thrdhug  and  siuccre  as  thine  I 

X'H'M  iBrillin  iiiitirr  31iiil;iit  Siitt. 

(185) 
Accept  the  gift  a  friend  suicere 

^*  ad  on  tl^  worth  be  pressui' ; 
Eememhraoce  oft  may  start  a  tear. 
But  oh!   that  tenderness  forbear. 

ITiough  twad  my  si 


light  sa 


It  grief  a. 


I  faur. 


In  wildest  fury  hs 

SI)-  peace,  ray  hope,  for  ever! 
Yon  think  I'm  glad ;  oh,  I  pay  weel. 

For  a- the  joy  I  borrow. 
Ill  soUtude— tlien,  tlien  1  fbd 
I  canui  to  myad'  conceal 

lly  deeply  rauklui'  aorrow. 

A  tear  uiny  n-ct  thy  Ijingliin'  ee, 
For  Scotia's  son— auce  gay  Uke  thee— 
Kow  hopeless,  com^tless,  forsaken  1 


m 

TH 

S   ROC 

M  W 

mas 

BS    BLGFI 

(186) 

Oi 
v.- 

.? 

udre 

dPo 

UUTl 

me  he 
eof  p.- 

o^reign'st 
aJeandlo 

hove. 

Tlie  hoary  srce — the  mortal  stroke, 
'     ig.  long,  be  pleased  to  spare, 

II  show  wliat  good  men  are. 
She,  who  bet  lorely  offspring  eyei 

With  tender  hopes  and  fears, 
Oh,  bless  her  with  it  raotlier'a  joy^ 

But  spate  »  motliec's  tears  ! 
Their  hope,  their  stay,  tlieir  darling 


u  God  ot 


truth. 


Hosted  by  Google 


EPJSTLE  TO  MAJOE  LOGAN. 


The  beauteous,  i 


Guide  Biou  tlicir  steps  alway. 
Wlieu  loon  or  late  tbey  reach  that  < 

0*er  life's  tough  ocean  driven. 
May  they  rejoice,  no  wanderer  lost, 


{fa  JHt.  M'3.im, 

SlK,  o'er  a  ^11 1  gat  jour  card, 
I  trow  it  made  me  ptoud ; 

"See  wba  taka  notice  o'the  bardl" 
I  lap  and  cried  fu'  loud. 

Now  d«l-ma-care  nbout  their  jaw. 


le  joursel, 


rmto 
Tms  noble.  Sir ;  ' 

To  grant  your  hign  prorection : 
i.  great  man's  stnik,  ye  ken  fli'  well, 

la  aye  a  blest  infection. 
Tho'  by  bis  (1ST{  bnnea  who  in  a  tub 

UaCcb'd  Maceilnnlaii  Sandy ! 
On  my  aiii  lep  thro'  dirt  and  dub, 

I  mdependeui  stand  aye. 
And  when  those  leg!  to  guid,  nana  kail, 

Wi'  welcome  CBuiis  bear  me ; 
A  lee  dyke-side,  a  Byhow-tail, 

Heaven  spare  you  lang  to  kias  the  breat 

O'  many  flow'ty  simmers ! 
And  bless  your  bonnie  lasses  baiih — 

I'm  tauld  tliey're  loosome  Idmrnera  1 
And  God  bless  young  Dunaskin's  laird. 

The  blossom  of  our  gentry  ! 
And  may  he  wear  an  auld  man's  beard. 


f  inrs  an  aitfting  uiitli  Sasil,  tnrEi  Sacr. 

(188) 
Tiiia  wot  ye  ell  whom  it  concerns, 
1,  Ilhymer  Eobin,  alias  Bums, 

October  twenty-thifj, 
A  ne'er-to-be.forgotten  day, 
&ae  ta  1  spracbled  up  the  brae, 

I  diuuei'd  wi'  a  Lord. 
Fre  bem  at  druehen  writeta'  feasts. 
Nay,  been  bitch-fou  "mang  godly  priests. 


Wi'i 


rye  ev'n  Join'd  the  honour'd  jorum. 
When  mighty  squiresbips  of  the  quonun, 
Th^  hydra  drouth  did  slokeu. 


a  Lord  I — stand  out  my  shm. 


And  sic  a  Lord  1- 

lang  Scotch  cHs  twa. 

Our  Peerage  he  o 

ctlooka  tbe 

As  I 

ok  o'er  m 

But,  oh  f  for  Hog 

rth's  magi 

pow'rl 

To  show  Sir  Bard 

c's  willvar 

gloWr, 

And  how  he  star'd 

TVTieo  goavan,  as 

•C  led  wi-  b 

a»ks, 

And  stmnpin'  on 

his  ploughman  ahanks 

Heintl 

e  parlour  haiumer'd. 

I  sidling  ebelter'd 

in  a  nook. 

And  at  his  Lords 

ip  sleal't  a 

look. 

The  gentle  pride,  tli 

The  arroE 

Tlieflentopride,  111 


with  noble  youlbfid  Paei 


Ha!L,  tbairm-insiMiin',  rattlin'  Williel 
Though  fortnuB's  road  be  rough  and  hUlf 
To  every  Sddliug,  rhyming  billii^ 

We  never  heed. 
But  take  it  like  the  unback'd  filly. 

Proud  o'  lier  Sliced. 
When  idly  goavan  whyles  we  saunter 
Yirr,  fancy  barks,  awa  we  canter 
Upliill,  down  hnic,  til!  some  mishaoter. 

Some  black  bog-hole. 
Arrests  ns,  then  the  sesthe  mid  banter 

We're  forced  to  thole. 
Hale  be  your  heart  1— hale  he  yout  fiddlel 
Laug  msy  your  elbocli  jmk  and  diddle. 
To  i^eer  you  Ihrongh  the  weaty  widdle 


Unti 

you  on 

acr 

mmock  driddie 

A  grey-hait'd  cade. 

Com 

wealth 

poortith,  late  d 

Hea^ 

nsend 

heart-strings  ay 

And 

(crewy 

arte 

mper  pins  aboon 

Tlie  melancholiot 


Ho,t,db,  Google 


tSS'S  POETICAL  W0HK3. 


M»7  still  yoiir  lite  Irom  A?.y  to  day 
Kfle  "  knee  brgo"  in  llie  play, 
But  "allegrecto  forte"  gay 

Harmonious  Hov 
A  sweeping,  kiiiJliug,  boiild  strathapey— 

Kucore!  Bravo  I 
A  blessing  on  the  cheery  gang 
Wha  dearly  like  a  jig  ot  sang, 
And  never  think  o'  right  aiid  mrang 

But  aa  the  cl^s  o'  teeling  staiig 


My  hand-waled  ciirse  keep  hard  in  chase 
The  harpy,  hoodoek,  purse-proud  race, 
"Wha  count  on  pooriith  as  di^race — ' 


Moagicl,  SOth  October 


that  there  ia  I've  hnle  swilhet 
About  the  mMter— 
sheek  for  chow  sluill  jog  thegither; 

le  faults  and  fBili"~!-«™nted  cki 
■e  fniil  backsliding  mortals  merely, 
a  boDnte  squad  priests  a'yte  Ilicm  sheerly 


Ochon  for  poor  Castalian  drinkers 
■When  th^  fo'  foid  o'  earthly  jink 
The  wilehiug  cura'd  delicious  bliii 


[her  grave, 
t  of  morning  fall  cold  ou 
ift  thrill  of  love BBrm  my 


And  by  her  eeo  wha  w: 


re  uidinowit,  milamented,  my  a' 
id  joy  aliall  revisit  my  bosom  r 


to  tlie  Indies  I  H 

Some  ce 

ne  sweet  elf  I'll 


Our  Lilhc'a  gieii 
Xoment  him  a' ; 


And  owte  the  sea 
in  their  dear  petitions  ptaa 


Ho,t,db,  Google 


TO  A  HAGGIS. 


:srfu' 


ly  bless  li 


The  widows,  w 


For  weel  I  mat  theyll  sairly  raisa  him 

Tlial'aoflTe  the  seal 
Oh  fortune,  they  ha'e  room  10  griiiiible! 
Had'st  thou  taeo  aff  some  dniway  bumble, 
Wha  caa  do  uought  bat  fjke  and  fumble. 

But  he  \iaa  glcj;  aa  ony  wntabk. 
That's  uwre  the  seal 

Anld  cantie  Kyle  may  weepers  wear 

And  stain  them  wi'  the  saut,  saat  tear; 

Tnill  mak  her  poor  ould  heart,  I  fear, 
Infiinderaflee; 

He  was  her  lanreat  monj  a  year. 

He  atw  mUforlune's  eaiild  nw-westj 
lanj  mustering  up  a  biltev  blast; 
A  iillet  brak  his  heart  at  last, 
HI  may  ebe  he  ! 
So,  took  a  berth  afore  the  mast. 

To  tremble  under  forinne'a  cummock, 
On  scarce  a  belljfu'  o'  druiiimock, 
Wi'  his  proud,  independent  atomach, 

80  row^  hia  hurdies  in  a  hammocii. 
And  owre  llie  lea. 

He  ne'er  vaa  gien  to  great  misguiding; 

Yet  coin  his  pouches  wad  na  bide  in ; 

Wi'  him  it  ne'er  waa  under  hiding — 
He  dealt  it  free : 

The  muse  was  a'  that  he  took  pride  in, 

Jamaica  iiodiea,  use  him  n'cc!, 
Ye'U  find  hii 


0'  glee  ; 


Fareweel,  my  Thyme-composing  liiliie  I 
Your  native  sod  was  right  ill-nUlie; 
But  may  ye  flourish  like  a  lily, 


Ajid  when  yon  read  the  simple  artless  rhymes, 

One  friendly  sigh  for  him — he  asks  110  more, 

1iYho  distant  bums  in  flaming  torrid  climes, 


•'  The  valiant,  in  liimsclf,  what  can  he  auHtr 
Or  what  doe*  he  re^rd  liis  single  woes  I 
But  when,  alas !  he  mullipllea  himself, 

To  ihoae  whoso  bliss,  whose  beinjfs  hang  upon 

To  helpless  children  I— then,  oh  then  t  he  feels 
■n,e  point  ol  misery  fest'rins  in  his  heart, 

'         Thuusok's  £ii«iard  and  Flcanora, 
Farsivblv  old  Scotia's  bleak  domaii^ 
Far  dearer  Uian  the  torrid  plains 

Where  rich  ananas  blow  I 
Farewell,  a  mother's  bleasmg  dear  I 

Hfy  Jean's  heart-rending  throe  t 
Farewell,  my  Bess  1  tho'  Ihou'rt  bereft 


What  buratmg  anguish  tears  my  heart  I 
IVom  thee,  my  Jean;,  must  I  part  I 

Thou,  weeping,  answ'reet  "  No !" 
Alsa  I  misfortune  stares  my  face. 
And  pointa  to  ruin  and  di^ao^ 

I  for  thy  sake  must  go  I 
Thee,  Hamilton,  and  Aiken  deaiv 

A  grateful,  warm  adieu  I 
I,  with  a  much  indebted  tear. 

Shall  still  remember  you? 
All-hail  then,  the  gale  then. 

Wafts  me  from  ihec,  dear  thorel 


(En  a  Saggrs.  (ibi) 

Faiu  fa'  your  honest,  sonaie  face. 
Great  chieftain  o'  the  puddin'-race ! 
Aboon  tliem  a'  ye  tak  your  place, 

I^inch,  tripe,  or  thairm 
Weel  are  ye  wordy  of  a  grace 

As  lang'a  ray  arm. 


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BURSS'S   POETICAL  WORKS. 


Your  pin  «»|1  help  to  mEnd  a  mill 

in  time  o'  need, 
WniSe  tiaa'  yooi  pares  the  dewa  distil 

Lilie  umber  bead. 
His  knife  see  rustic  labour  dight. 
And  out  you  up  wi'  ready  slight, 
benching  yoor  gushing  entrails  bright 

Like  on;  ditch ; 
And  then,  <A  nhat  a  gloiious  s^ht, 

WMdi-reekin',  rich ! 
Then  hora  tor  horn  they  stretch  and  strive, 


Deilte 


hindmi 


111  tliey 


TiU  b'  their  *eel-swall'd  kjtei 

Then  luld  gnid  man,  maist  like 

la  there  that  o'et  his  French  ta 
Or  Olio  that  wad  sCaw  a  sow. 
Or  frieassee  wad  mike  her  spev 


Poor  devil  1  see  him  owre  his  trasli 
As  feckless  as  s  "ither'd  rash. 
His  spindle  shank  a  guid  ivhiphish 

Tliro'  bhiody  flood  or  field  to  dash, 

But  mark  the  rustic,  haggis-fed, 
The  tremliling  earth  resounds  h!s  t 
<}lap  in  his  walie  nieve  u  blade. 


Te  pow'ts  wha  mak  mankind  yi 
And  dish  them  out  their  bill  o' 
Auld  Scotland  wants  nae  skiiiki 


^n  S!is!  Iigaii,  mitlj  Srafiit's  ^w 

*a   A  NEW   YKAE'a    RIFT,   JAN.    1.    l/i 

(1B2) 


And  you,  tho'  scarce 
No  gifts  have  I  front 

I  send  you  wore  than  India  bosi 
la  Edwin's  simple  tale. 

■Our  se\  with  guile  and  faithlesE 
Is  charg'd,  perhaps,  too  true ; 

But  may,  dear  maid,  each  lover 
An  Edwin  still  to  you  I 


n  maiden  prime, 
Heav-n. 
!udi>n  coasts 


fotrnipiirs  ii:  tjjE  Cnnrf  nf  ^hhiib. 

IflRD    ADVOCATE.    (193) 

He  clench'd  his  pamphlets  in  his  Gsb 

He  quoted  and  he  hmted, 
TiU  in  a  declamation-mist. 

He  gaped  for-t,  he  graiped  fort. 


His  lonlship  sat  «i'  rue 
And  ey'd  the  gatheri 


The  be 


i  lift  up  ( 


Half-waukcn'd 
ECa  ijiE  finiiiinift  nt  ■aiaiirjnps  SimsE. 

(!BS) 
"MycRntie,  witcy,  rhyming  jilou^bman, 
r  hn-rHin4  iiniibT  it  is  na'  true-  in^it. 


;  doubt  its---  ■ 
ilther  fcot 


r,  yo've 


in  fed 


DHtecSui 


ul  and  body  baiili 


Than  tbeira  who  sup  imir  milk  and  pnrriteh. 
And  bummil  throni^h  the  single  Carritolu 
Whaerer  heard  the  plou^hmun  speak. 
Could  tell  Bif  Honier  was  a  Greek  I 


And  bow  to  gar  the  nation  thrive, 

Ane  main  wud  twea  ye  dwelt  among  them. 

Bat  be  ye  phmghman,  be  ye  pe^. 
Ye  are  a  funny  blade,  1  swear ; 
And  though  the  cuuld  I  ill  can  hide, 

U'cr  m^  and  nu»r  and  never  grumble, 
rhongh  my  auld  yad  should  gie  a  stumbte, 


Oh  gif  I  kenn'd  but  whej 
I'd  send  to  you  ft  marled 
Twud  taoudyonr  shoutht 


I  uiMD  it  weel  in  early  date, 

■When  I  was  beardless  young,  and  blatu 

And  first  could  thresh  the  baruj 
Or  haud  a  jokin"  at  the  pleogh ; 
And  tho'  forfoughten  sair  eneug 

Yet  unco  proud  to  learn : 


Ho,t,db,  Google 


E'en  Oi«n>  a  ™!i,  I  mind  its  poirt — 
A  ffiali  tliat  to  my  latest  hour 

Shall  strongly  heave  ray  breast — 
That  I,  for  poor  auli  Scotland's  sake, 
Some  usefa'  plan  or  beiik  could  make 

Ot  sing  a  sang  at  least 
The  roush  burr-thiaale,  spreading  wide 

Amsng  the  heatded  bear, 
I  tum'd  the  weeder-cUpa  aside, 

And  spared  tlie  aymbol  dear ; 

My  enty  e'er  cnnUl  raise. 


But  atai  the  elements  o'  sonic 

In  formiess  jamhle,  right  aud  wrang, 

WQd  floated  in  my  brain ; 
fill  on  that  hur'st  I  s^d  before, 
My  partner  in  tha  merry  core. 

She  roiu'd  the  forming  strnin  i 
I  see  her  yet,  the  tnasie  quean. 

That  Ughted  up  her  juggle. 
Her  witching  smile,  hei  paiiky  een 

That  gatt  my  heart-atriuga  tinglei 


Ifii 


nspive.!. 


ig  keek. 


Health  to  the  sex,  ilk  ^d  chtel  s 
Vi'  DKrry  dance  in  winter  days. 

And  we  to  share  in  eommon : 
The  gnst  o"  joy,  the  balm  of  woe. 
The  sauI  o*  life,  the  heaven  below, 

la  rapture-gitiug  woman. 
Ye  Burb'  aumpha,  who  bale  the  m 


lyre. 


For  yoH,  no  bred  to  bam  and  b^n, 
Wha  sweetly  tunc 

lliau^s  to  yon  for  your  nne : 
The  marled  plaid  ye  kindly  spare, 
By  me  should  gratefully  he  vaie ; 

'Twad  please  me  to  (he  nine. 


Fareweel  then,  lang  heal 
And  plenty  be  your  fi 


rs  1  pity  tliy  unhappy  fate 


SnEriiiifisi 


'Ha  scQlptni'^  m 

This' simple  stoni 
To  pour  her  ac 


^rnlngnt, 


Monday.  IBlh  April,  1787.  (198) 
When  by  a  generous  Public's  kind  acclaim. 
That  dearest  meed  is  ^«nted — honest  liias : 
When  here  your  fevour  is  the  actor's  lot. 
Nor  even  the  man  hi  private  life  forgot ; 
Wliat  breaanodeed  to  heav'nly  Virtue's  glon". 
But  heaves  impassion'dnith  thegratefnl  throe. 


0  picas. 


rsong, 
ouftetn'a 


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164 


id  forcB,    ■ 


'ina^ ranimonn  tiK  mind,  or  mciid  tli« heart. 
Is  known ;  as  grateful  nations  oft  have  found 
Far  as  the  rade  batborian  marks  the  bound, 
Philoiophy,  no  idle  pedant  dream, 
Here  holds  her  aearcli    bj    heayen-tBiieht 

Reaaon'i  beam  j 
Here  liislory  paints  with  elegante  e 
The  tide  of  Empire's  fliictuatin^  co 
Here  I>ouglas  forma  nild  Shakesp 


With  manly  lor^  or  6 
(Beanty,  where    fanl 


BURjrS'S  POETICAL  WORKS. 

The  stlffest  o'  them  a'  he  boa'd 
The  bauldest  o'  tliem  a'  he  covr'^ 
They  dui^t  naemair  than  he  b11ow*4 


Thotw, 
We've  lost  a  birkie  ■ 


worth 


gOVfd 


WiUie'BsWBl 
in'kies,  tawpies,  gowks,  and  fbol^ 
ille^s  aod  boarmng-scbools, 
>rout  Uke  simmer  ptiddock-stooU 


Willi 


tlie  Coiumerce-Cliaumer 
9s  wi'  doolfu'  damout; 


w  oft  with  panting    '. 
Et  these  judjeshert 


Amang  them  a' ; 

I  now  mak  mony  a  9 

■Willie's  aWB ! 

( and  ]>net9  pour. 


Equal  to  jodse — you're  candid  to  forg- 

IVith  decency  and  low  beneath  his  feel 
Nor  Insolence  assumes  fair  Freedom's 
like  Calsdoniaks,  yon  applaud  or 

Oh  thoo  dread  foirer;   whose  e 


May  every  son  be  worthy  of  his  sire! 
Firm  may  slie  rise  with  generous  disdain 
At  Tyratmy's,  or  direr  Pleaante's  chain  I 
Btill  self-dqiendent  in  her  native  shore, 
BoM  may  ebe  brave  grim  Danger'a  loudest    , 


And  toothy  cr 

The  adjutant  o'  a'  the  core, 
Willie's  awal 
worthy  Orrery's  Latin  face, 
Tjtler's  and  Greenfield's  modest  giBOei 
Mackenzie,  Stewart,  sic  a  brace 

Willie's  awa  1 
ims  —  e'en    Scotch    drink    e& 


Cpiatli  in  51!il[iara  feft|. 

(198) 
AdlB  chnctie  Reetie's  (199)  sair  distrest, 
Down  droop  her  ance  weel-butuish'd  ctesl 
Nae  joy  her  bonnie  huatit  nest, 

Ber  daiUng  bird  that  she  lo'ea  best, 

Willie's  an! 
Oh  Willie  was  a  witty  wight. 
And  had  o'  things  an  unco  slight ; 
Auld  Beekie  aye  he  keepit  tight. 

And  trig  and  btaw ! 
But  now  they'll  bust  her  lUie  b  frighl— 

Willie's  awa! 


I  wha  could  brawlie  ward  their  beUi 

1  wimpling  stately  Tweed  I've  sped, 
id  Eden  scenes  on  crystal  Jed, 
,d  Ettrick  banks  now  roaring  red. 
While  tempesta  blaw ; 
t  every  joy  and  pleasure's  fled — 

ly  I  be  slander's  common  speech; 
_  leit  for  infamy  to  preach ; 
And  lastly,  streekit  out  to  bleach 


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.  JOHN  .AHDERSIJN    MY  JU 


BiLl  Li'JB  jOTir  Iheai's  t-nnielli'aliiJcQmijmirliiclrs  mp  Skc  the  bi 
Yet  'b'icsiiii/^s  uLiyniii~  ii-o3ty  -p<m,  JdLn.  Aiiiarsoii.my"  j<i. 


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Ho,t,db,  Google 


SCAFJSG  SOlfE  WATEK-FOWL  IN  LOCH-TDEIT.  IBJ 

iitriot  Mb,  but  ahall  he  lie  unsnn;, 
bile  empty  greatness  suvea  e.  irocthlesi 


May  never  witiiea  fo 
May  never  wicked  m 
Uulil  s  paw  as  auld'a  Melfiusalem 

He  CMity  claw  ! 
Then  to  the  blessed  New  Jerusalem, 

Fleet  wing  awa  I 

&n  tljE  Htstlrirf  ^ir  %ami  Maain  SiHir. 

(201) 

The  lamp  of  flay,  with  iU-presajring  glare, 

Dim,  cloudy,  souk  beneath  the  westei 

wave.  [datk'ningfli 

TC  iiiconatant    blast  howl'd  tlitoiigh    tj 

And  hollow  whistled  m  the  rocky  cave. 
Lone  as  I  nsnder'd  by  each  cliff  and  dell, 
Once  the  iov'd  baunta  of  Scotia'a  royal 
train  (202) ;  [weU  (2(J31, 

Or  mus'd  where  lilt     '  "    "  

Oitmonld'nn^  n 
(204) 

Th'  increasing  blast  roared  round  the  heetUng 

rocks,  [alarry  sky. 

The   clouds,  swift-wHng'd,  flow    ('       -'  - 

The  groaninB  trees  untimely  shed  Ihe 

And  shooting  meteors  caught  the  staitled 


No;  every  muse  shall  join  he 


re  ages  hear  his  growing  fame 


'fhro'  future  tim 

That    distant    yea 

Blairs !  "— 

She  soid.  and  v 


©It  irarinj  smnc  l^afDr-^nml  k  HirJi- 
JEiirit. 


aoa  once  hallow'd 
k  the  sacred  &ne. 


For  me  your  wat'ty  haunt  forsake? 
Tell  me,  fellow-creMures,  why 
At  my  presence  thus  you  fly  ? 
"Why  disturb  your  social  joya, 
Parent,  filisJ,  kindred  ties  ?— 
ComrooQ  friend  to  yon  and  me. 
Nature's  gifts  to  ah  are  free ; 
Feaceful  keep  youi  dimpling  wav^ 
Busy  feed,  or  wanton  hue ; 
Or  b»;eath  the  sheltering  rock, 
Side  the  surging  biUows  shock. 
Consdnus,  blushing  for  our  race. 


Wild  ti 


ly  heart  the  filial  pulse! 


Twas  Caledonia's  trophied  shield  I  view'd : 
Her  form  maJestic-druDp'd  in  pensiTc  w   ., 

llhB  lightning  of  her  eye  in  tean  unbued. 
KeTers'd  tliot  spear,  redonblable  in  Mat, 

Beclia'd  that  banner,  e:st  m  fields  unfurl'd. 
That  like  a  deathful  meteor  glcam'd  a& 

And  brav'd  the  mighty  monarch!  t 

"My  patriot  son  fills  an  untimely  gravt 
"With  accents  wild  and  lifted  arms- 
hand  that  oft  was  Btretd 


Low  lies  the  he 


■round  thdr  patron's 
lieives  the  heart-felt 


I  saw  fait  freedom's  bios; 

But  ail !  how  liope  is  born 

Keleutless  fate  has  laid  t 


Strong  necessity  compels : 
But  man,  to  irhnm  alone  is  gir'n 
A  ray  direct  from  pitying  Heav'n 
Glories  ui  his  heart  humane — 
And  cteaturea  for  his  pleasure  eiain 
In  these  savage,  Uquid  plains. 

Where  the  mossy  riv'let  strays. 
Far  from  human  haunts  and  wayi  i 
All  on  Nature  you  dqwnd. 
And  life^a  poor  season  peaceful  spcn 
Or,  if  man's  superior  might 
Dare  invade  your  native  right. 
On  the  lofty  ether  borne, 
Man  with  all  his  pow'rs  yon  icom  i 
Swiftly  seek,  on  cknging  wings. 


■ms  richly  blow  i 
fir  guardian  low. 


Ho,t,db,  Google 


BUKNS'S  POETICAL  WORKa 


€^  Sunittlj  ^rfiiina  nf  Srnar  ^l'at^r. 

XO   THE    NOBLE   ELTKE    OP  ATKOLB.   (205) 

Mv  Lord,  I  know  your  noble  ear 


In  flaming  BuiDmer-pride, 
Dry-witheting-,  wasts  my  foamy  atreama. 

And  drink  my  crystal  tide. 
The  lightly-jnmpin'  glowrin'  tronts. 

That  tliro'  my  waters  play. 
If,  in  thar  rwidotn,  wanton  spouts. 

They  near  the  nmi^n  stray ; 
If,  hapless  chance  I  they  linger  lang, 

I'm  acorchiug  op  so  shallow, 
They^  left  the  whiMoiiig  elanes  flmang. 

In  gaapmg;  death  to  wallow. 


nnal  dry : 


That  to  a  Ijard  1 1 
Wi'  half  my  ch 

&asIwashe'slior'dmei 
But  had  I  in  my  glory  heen. 

He,  kneeling,  wad  adoc'd  ms. 
Here,  foaming  down  the  sheivy  rocks. 

Id  taisting  strength  I  rin ; 
There,  high  my  boiling  torrent  smokes. 

Wild  roaring  o'er  a  linn: 
Enjoying  large  each  spring  and  well. 

As  natm*  gave  them  me, 
I  am,  altho'  I  say't  myael' 

Worth  gauB  a  mile  to  see. 

Won!d  then  luy  noble  master  please 

To  grant  my  highest  wishes, 
Hell  shade  my  bai.ka  wi'  tow'Ting  trees, 

And  bonnie  spreading  bushes. 
Delighted  doubly  then,  my  Lord, 

Youll  wander  on  my  banks. 
And  listen  mony  a  grateful  bird 

Betum  you  tuneful  thanks. 

The  sober  laTerock,  warblmg  wild, 

Shalt  to  the  akies  aspire; 
The  gowdspink,  music's  gayest  child. 

Shall  sweetly  join  the  choir. 
Tbe  blackbird  strong,  the  lintwhite  dear. 

The  mavia  mild  and  mellow  t 
The  ro)>in  pensive  autumn  cheer. 

In  all  her  locks  of  yellow. 

This,  too,  a  covert  shaU  insnte 
To  shield  them  from  the  slorm ; 

And  coward  maukin  sleep  sccui^ 
Low  iu  her  grassy  foim : 


Here  shall  the  shepherd  make  his  seat, 
To  weave  his  crown  of  flow'rs : 

Or  find  a  sbelt'ring  aafc  retreat 
From  prone  descending  show'rj. 

And  here,  by  sweet  endearing  stealth. 

Shall  meet  the  loving  pair, 
Despismg  worlds  with  all  their  wealth 

The  flow'rs  ahall  vie  in  all  tlieir  charm 


Here,  haply  too,  at  vernal  dawn. 

Some  musing  bard  may  stray. 

And  eye  the  smoking,  dewy  lawn. 

Or,  by  the  reaper's  nightly  beam. 

Wild-chequering  thro'  the  trees, 
Rave  to  my  darkly-daahing  stream, 

Hoarae  swelling  on  the  breeze. 
Ifit  lofty  flrs,  and  ashes  cool, 

31y  lowly  banks  o'lTspread, 
And  Tiew.  deep-bending  in  the  pool, 

Th»r  shadows'  wata^  bedl 
Let  fragrant  birks  m  woodbines  drest 

My  ctaj^  clilfe  adorn  j 
And,  for  Uie  little  songsters  nest 

The  close  embuw'riug  thorn. 

So  may  old  Scotia's  darling  hopt^ 

Yonr  little  angel  baud, 
Spring,  like  Vaar  fhtbers,  up  to  prop 

Their  honoiir'd  native  land  [ 
So  may,  thro'  Albion's  fartliesC  ken. 

To  social  flowing  glasses, 


lud  Athole's  I 


Tliink  not,  though  from  the  world  receding, 
I  joy  my  lonely  days  to  lead  in 

This  draerl  drear ; 
That  fell  remorse  a  conscience  bleeding 

Hath  led  me  here. 
No  thought  of  guilt  my  bosom  soars; 
Free-wilI'd  I  fled  from  courtly  bowen  ; 

The  arch-fiend's  dearest,  darkest  powers, 
In  stale  preside. 


Ho,t,db,  Google 


1  £&v  mankind  with  vice  ^ncnuted ; 
I  sav  that  hanour'a  twoid  waa  tusled; 
That  few  fbt  aught  hut  folly  lusted; 
That  he  waa  still  deceiv'd  nho  trusted 

To  love  or  fiiend ; 
And  hither  eame,  uith  men  disgusted. 

My  life  to  end. 
In  this  lone 


ELE6T  ON  LORD  DUNIIA8.  IC7 

intatretehing  lake,  embosoni'd  'mong 


ly  folly. 
It  gloomy  melancholy. 


Thia  desert  wood. 


This  rock  my  shield;  when  storms  are  blowing, 
IHie  limpid  streamlet  yonder  fluwiag 
Snppljii^  drinlt,  the  earth  bestowuig 

My  sinmle  food ; 
Bat  few  enjoy 

Content  and  comfort  bless  me  mare  In 

This  grot,  than  e'er  I  felt  before  in 

A  pahice— and  with  thoughta  atill  soiirmg 

To  God  on  high. 
Each  night  and  mom  with  voice  imploring, 


Let  me  in  thia  belief  expire — 

To  God  I  fly." 
Stranger,  if  full  of  youth  and  riot, 
And  yet  no  grief  has  marr'd  thy  quiet. 
Thou  h^ly  throw'at  a  scornful  eye  at 

The  hermit's  prayer — 
But  if  thou  hast  good  cause  to  sigh  at 

Thyfeultorcare; 
It  thou  hast  known  false  love's  vexation. 
Or  hast  been  exiled  from  thy  nation. 
Or  guilt  afCrighia  thy  conlempkition. 


Oh  1  how  must  th 


I  Uiueiit  thy  st 


These  northern  scenes  with  w 
Cetmanyawmdhigdalean 
Th' abodes  of  coried  grouse 

"pi^nfal  steep! 

Tilt  fam'd  Breadelban 
The  meeUng  cliffs  eac 
The  woods,  wikl  scat 
lidesi 

urions,  I  pursue, 
e  opens  to  my  vi 
deep-sunk  glen  di 
er'd;  Clothe  their 

rides, 
imple 

The  Taj,  meand'ring  sweet  in  infant  pride. 
The  palace,  rising  on  its  verdant  side ; 
The  lawns,  woud-fring'd  in  Nature's  native 
■    ■  [haste ; 


floods— 


;    tumbling 


Here  Poesy  might  wake  her  heav'u-tanght 

And  look  through  nature  with  creative  fire ; 
Here,  to  the  wroi^s  of  fatJj  half  reconcil'd 

[hCen'd  steps  might  wander 


wild; 


Find  b 


c  her 


t-atrnck  Grief  might  heav'iiward 


Lone  on  the  bleoky  hills  the  straying  flocks 

Down  from  the  rivulets,  red  with  dashing 
The  gathering  fioods  burst  o'er  the  distant 

plams; 
Beneath  the  blasts  the  leifleas  forests  groan; 

Ye  hills,  ye  plains,  ye  forests,  and  ye  caves. 
Ye  howling  wind),  and  wiutiy  sweUiug  waves! 

Sad  to  your  sympthetic  scenes  I  fly; 
Where  to  the  whistling  bhist  and  waters'  roar 
Pale  Scotia's  recent  wound  1  may  deplore. 
Oil  heavy  loss,  thy  country  ill  could  bear ! 
A  loss  these  evil  days  can  ne'er  repar  I 
Jus^c^  the  high  vicegerent  of  her  God, 
Her  doubtful  balance  ey'd.  and  sway'd  her 

Hearing  the  tidii^s  of  the  fatal  blow 
She  sank,  abandoii'd  to  the  widest  woe. 
Wrongs,  injuries,  from  many  a  darksome  den. 
Now  gay  in  hope  eiphjre  the  paths  of  men ; 


Ho,t,db,  Google 


3  POETICAL  WORKS. 


And  BtiSe,  duk,  the  fwbty.bit 
Mark  rufflan  Violence,  distain 
Bousing  elate  iu  these  de^eue 
"View  au9U9pecting  Iiinoceuce 
Ae  guileful  Fraud  poiaCs  nut  tl 
Willie  enhtile  litigation's  plia 
The  lifC^-bliwd  equal  eucks  of  Bight 


Hart,  injur'd  Want 
And  much-wrang'd  la 

Wail  I 
Ye  dark  waste  hills, 


[tole, 

a'ry  pauis  th'  unpitied 
and  broira  nnaightly 


To  you  I  sing  my  grief-inspired  stroir 
Ye  tempests,  roge  !  je  turbid  torrent 
Ye  suit  the  joyless  terinr  of  my  soul, 
life's  social  haunla  and  pleaautas  I  re 
Be  nameleaa  wilda  ind  louL-ly  itui. 

To  mourn  flie  woes  my  eountry  must  • 


^,  roll  I 


Akonq  the  hca-thy  Iiills  and  ragged  woods ; 
Tlie  foaiuiug  Fyera  pours  his  moasy  floods, 
Wll  full  he  dashes  ou  the  rocty  mounds. 
Where,  thro'  a  sliapdeaa  beath,  his  atrcani 


descHiUB, 
And  Tiewleas  Echo's  ear,  astonished,  rends. 
Dim  seen,  through  rising  mists  and  ceaseless 

showers. 
He  hoary  cfiverD.  wide  snrrounding  low'rs ; 
Still  thro'  the  gap  the  stm)^lius  river  toils. 
And  still  below,  the  horrid  cuuldroii  boils — 


Slit  iDHlli  nf  gnlin  SI Xrnfi,  feif.. 


Sad  thy  tale,  Uiou  idle  page. 

And  rueful  thy  alarms- 
Death  tears  the  biolher  of  her  love 

From  Isabella's  arms. 
Sweetly  deek'd  with  pearly  dew 

Tlie  mornmg  rose  may  blow. 
Bat  cold  snccessive  noontide  hkiatt 

Maj  lay  its  beauties  low. 


Succeeding  hopes  begnd'd. 

Fate  oK  tears  the  bosom  cords 

Tliat  Nature  finest  strung  j 


Were  it  ui  the  poet's  p 

Strong  eg  he  sliares  i 

That  pierces  Isabella's  I 


And  fear  no  with'rii 

There  Isabella's  spotle 

Shall  happy  be  at  Ip 


en  ffiilliiiBi  ^in!Uii!.  (307) 

SiiitEw'n  Wilhe  Sinellie  to  Crocliullan  (208) 

The  old  cock'd  hat,  the  grey  surtout,  the 
His  bristhng  beard  just  rising  iu  its  might, 
Twas  four  long  uights  and  days  to  shaving 
liLghc ;  [thatch'd 

Hia  uucomb'd  griiily  locks  wild  starii^, 
A  head  for  thought  profound  and  dear  un- 


3i(to5s  ta  2(r.  lEilliam  lEijtltr.  _ 

rtCTUKt!.   (209) 
Eetkked  defender  of  beauteous  Stuart, 

heart. 
But  now  'tis  despised  and  neglected. 

The'  Boraethlng  like  moisture  coughibes  in 

Let  no  oue  misdeem  me  disloyal ;      [sigh, 
A  poor  friendless  wand'rer  may  weU  claim  a 

Btill  more,  if  that  wand'rer  were  royal 
My  fiithers  that  name  have  rever'd  on  a 
fallen  (aright  it 


Those 


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TO  CLAMKDA. 


The  Queen,  and  the  rest  of  the  gentry, 
Be  thcj  wise,  be  they  foolisll,  ia  notlung  o 


Their  tiUe"!  oi 


Ahjm 


eountry. 


Thai  gave  us  the  Hanover 
It  bringing  them  over  ims  Ini 

I'm  sure  'twaa  aa  lucky  for 
But  loyntty,    truce  1    we're 
ground, 

Who  knows  how  tlie  fashions  may  alter  ? 
The  doctrine,  to-day,  that  is  lojalty  sound, 

I  send  you  a  trifle,  a  head  of  B  bard, 

A  trifle  scarce  worthy  your  care ; 
But  accept  it,  good  Sir,  as  u  mark  of  regard. 

Sincere  as  a  saint's  dying  ptayer, 
Now  hfe's  chilly  evening  dim  shades  on  your 

And  usliers  the  long  drenry  night ;     [eye. 
But  you  like  the  atar  that  athwart  gilds  the 

Your  course  tu  Ihe  lacesC  is  lirighC.     [sky^ 

a  Skrtrlj.  (310) 


0  !ovi 


his  0 


Better  than  e'er  the  direst  she  he  meets, 
A  man  of  bshion  toe,  he  made  his  tour, 
I^am'd  vise  la  bagatelle,  et  cae  I'amom 
So  travelled  monloes  their  grimace  improve, 
Polish  thar  grin,  nay,  sigh  for  ladies  love. 
Mnch  Bpei30us  lore,  but  little  uuderatood ; 
Veneering  oft  outshines  the  solid  trood : 
His  solid  sense — by  inches  you  must  toll. 
But  mete  his  cunning  by  tlie  old  Scola  ell  I 
His  meddling  vanity,  a  busy  fiend 
Still  making  workliu  selfish  craft  must  mend. 


Cn  SHiss  Crnilfslianlii. 

ftYEKVVODNGLADY.     (211) 


a,  young  at 


Beauteous  I .. . 
Blooming  in  thy  early  May, 
Never  roay'st  thou,  lovely  iov't. 
Chilly  shrink  in  sleety  ahow'r ; 
Never  Boreas'  hoary  path. 
Never  Euros'  poisonous  breath, 
Nevra  baleful  stellar  lights,   ' 
T^t  thee  with  unUmely  bUghts  1 

Biot  on  thy  virgin  leaf  I 


irth. 


Till  some  evening,  sober,  calm. 
Dropping  dews  and  breathing  bal 

And  every  bird  thy  requiem  sing; 
Thou,  amid  the  dii^ful  sound. 
Shed  thy  dying  honours  round. 
And  resign  to  parent  earth 
The  loveliest  form  alia  e'er  gave  1 

an  Biimvm  fiffusioir, 

Seabchino  Buld  wives  barrels, 

Och,  hon !  the  day  I 
That  clarty  barm  should  stun  my  laurels  j 

But — wliafll  yc  aayi 


Paib  Empress  of  the  Poefs  soul. 

And  Uueen  of  Poetesses ! 
Clarinda.  take  this  little  boon. 

This  humble  pair  of  glasses. 
And  fin  them  high  with  generous  juicci 

Aa  geueranB  as  your  mind ; 
And  pledge  loe  in  the  generous  toast — 

"The  whole  of  human  kind ! " 
"To  those  «ho  love  us 

But  not  to  those  wh 
Lest  us  love  those  who  love  not  us  I — 

A  tlurd — "  To  thee  and  me,  love  I " 


-second  fill  J 


The  wretch  beneath  the  dreary  polo 

To  what  dark  cave  of  firoaen  night 

Shall  poor  Sylrander  hie ; 
De),riv'd  of  thee,  his  life  and  light. 


ThesL 


.IS  joy. 


We  part — but,  by  these  predous  drcFps 

That  mi  thy  lovely  eyes  I 
No  other  light  shall  guide  my  stepa 

Till  thy  bright  beams  arise. 
She,  the  fair  sn 


Hash! 


lyglorio 


Hooted  by  Google 


HO 


BCENS'S  POEITCAL  WORKS. 


In  this  aCraage  bnil,  thia  ODCouth  clime, 
A  Uud  uukaowu  ta  proae  or  rhyme ; 
Where    words    n«'cr    crossed    the    muse's 
Ho!  JimjieC  in  poelic  sliacliles  ;         [bedilea, 
A  land  that  ptose  did  neser  new  it, 
E«cept  whtD  drunk  he  stodier't  thto'  it ; 
Here,  aubush'd  by  the  chimla  cheek. 
Hid  in  an  Mmosphere  of  reek, 
I  hear  a  wheel  ihrum  i'  the  aeuk, 
1  hear  it— for  in  vain  I  leok. 
The  red  peat  gleams,  s  fiery  kernel, 
Enhuslad  by  a  tog  infernal : 
Hwe  for  my  wonted  rhyming  raptures, 
1  «it  and  count  my  eiua  hy  chaplera. 
For  life  and  ipuiik  like  iihcr  Christians, 
Fm  dwindled  down  to  mera  aiistence, 
Wi'  nae  converse  but  Gallowo'  bodies, 
Wi'  nae-kenn'd  face  but  Jeimy  Geddes. 
Jenuy,  my  Pegascau  pride  1 
Uowie  ehe  tuuntets  daim  Mtthaide, 
And  aye  a  wesdin  heuk  she  throws, 
Wbile  tears  hap  o'er  her  auld  brown  nose  I 


Thou  bute  the  Hard  tluuugl 
AC  howes  or  hillocks  neiec  si 
And  late  or  euly  neter  grumbled  ? 


ihled. 


Oh,  had  I  powe 
I'd  beeie  thee  i 
To  canter  with 
Oi  ioup  the  ecliptic  like  a  1 
Or  tutn  tlie  pole  like  any  a 
Or,  vhen  auld  Pbsbus  bid 
Down  the  sodlac  ui^  the  i 
And  cost  dirt  on  his  godsU 
For  I  could  lay  my  bread  a 
He'd  ne'er  cast  talt  upo"  thy  tul. 


usiellaiiou. 


kaU 


Hope  not  sunshine  every  hour, 

n'^ppi'ness  i8"but''a  name?"  °""' 

Ambition  is  a  meteor  gleam ; 
Fame  a  restless  idle  dream : 

Hound  Peace, the tend'reatflowerofSpri 
Those  that  sip  the  dew  alone. 
Make  the  hutterlUes  tliy  own ; 
Those  that  would  the  bloom  devonc. 
Crush  the  loouata — save  !be  flower. 


Make  their  consequence  thy  cars : 
Keep  the  name  of  man  in  mind. 
And  dishonour  not  thy  tind. 
Beverence  with  lowly  heart, 

Keep  bis  goodness  still  in  view. 
Thy  trust — and  thy  esample,  too. 
Sttanger,  go ;  Heaven  be  thy  guida  I 
Quoth,  the  Beadsman  on  Nitbside 

Thou  whom  chance  may  hitheir  lead. 

Be  thou' clad  in  ruaset  weed, 
lou  deckt  in  silken  stole, 

Onve  these  counsels  on  thy  souL 

Life  is  bi 


«  lost; 


Wi'i 


a'  pmapect  of  relief. 


And  nought  but  peot-re 

How  can  1  write  what  ye  can  reaar 

Tarbolton,  twenty-fuurth  o'  Jim^ 

Ye'll  £nd  me  in  a  better  tune ; 

But  till  we  meet  and  weet  our  whistle, 

Tkk  this  excuse  for  nae  epistle. 


1  silken  stole, 
jnis  on  thy  souL 

;ht  ■,  in  darknesg  lost ; 

Day,  how  ftw  must  see  die  night ; 


life  is  hi 


.       „         I  night,  ii 
Hope  not  sunshine evty  nour, 
Fear  not  clouds  will  always  hiwei. 
Aa  youth  and  love  with  apri;;htly  dance. 

Pleasure  with  her  siren  air 
May  delude  the  thoughtless  pair ; 
lei  Prudence  bless  Enjoyment's  cup, 
Theo  raptor'd  sip,  and  sip  it  up, 
■  ly  day  grows  worm  and  high, 

thou  spurn  the  humble  vale? 

Check  thy  i^i cubing  step  elate, 

Dangers,  e^e-pinion'd,  bold. 
Soar  around  each  clifTy  hold, 
While  cheerfnl  peace,  with  linnet  aonft 
Chants  the  lowly  dells  among. 
An  ths  shades  of  ev'ning  dose, 
Beck'ning  (bee  to  long  repose. 
As  life  itself  becomes  disease, 
"  !fc  the  cbimney-neuk  of  ease ; 
There  ruminate  with  sober  thought, 
On  all  thou'at  seen,  and  heard,  and  wrought  J 
■    "  I  sportive  younkers  round, 
ience,  sage  and  wund. 


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S^,  Hum's  true,  gfnniiie  ealimat^ 
The  grand  criterion  of  his  fate, 
Is  not— art  thou  high  or  low  ? 
Did  thy  fortune  ebb  or  Ao»? 
Wait  thon  cottsget  or  ting  ? 

Did  many  talents  gild  tby  apan? 
Or  frugal  natnte  grudge  thee  one  ? 
Tell  tbem,  and  ptesa  it  on  their  mind. 
As  thou  thyself  must  shortly  find, 
llie  amile  or  frown  of  onful  HeaT'u, 

Say,  to  be  juat,  and  kind,  and  wise, 
Thwe  solid  self-enjoyment  lies ; 
That  foolish,  selfish,  faitlilesa  ways 
lead  to  the  wretched,  lile  and  base. 
^us  iwignM  and  quiet,  creep 
To  the  bed  at  lasting  sleep  ; 
Sleep,  whence  thou  shall  ne'er  awate. 
Night,  vbere  dawn  sboll  never  break. 
Till  faUae  Dfe,  future  no  mote. 
To  light  and  joy  the  good  restore. 
To  l^t  and  joy  unlmown  hefore. 
Stranger,  go !  Hcav'n  be  thy  gaide  1 
Uuatli,  the  Beailiwan  of  Nith-side. 


jjitrmjiorf  is  f  aptain  IRitiJipI, 

KEnsfAPBtt.  (21S) 


By  cruel  hands  the  sapling  drop^ 

Induatdishonour'dlaid: 
So  fell  the  pride  of  all  my  hope^ 

My  age's  future  shade. 
The  mother  linnet  in  the  hrate 

Bewails  her  raTiah'd  young ; 
So  1,  for  my  lost  darling's  sake, 

laineot  the  hve-day  long. 
Death,  oft  I've  fear'd  thy  fatal  btov. 

Oh,  do  thou  kindly  lay  me  hjw 
With  hhn  I  love,  at  rest ! 


Ton  Lords  ot 
But  oh !  proi 


—fort 


YouB  news  and  renew.  Sir,  I've  read  throi^h 
and  thronah,  Sir, 
With  little  adimrmg  or  blammg ; 
Hbe  papers  are  bairen    of  home-news  or 


Our  friends,  the  reviewers,  those  ciuppers 

Are  judges  of  mortar  and  atone,  Sir ; 

III  boldly  pronounce  they  are  none.  Sir. ' 
My  goose-quill  too  tude  is  to  tell  all  your 


And  then  all  the  world,  Sir,  should  know  it 


2  ^ullifr's  Iratnt. 


Oh  Eiirhly-eiaht,  in  thy  etna'  space 

o-hat  enjoyments  thou  hast  reft  nat 
In  wliat  a  pidile  tliou  hast  left  ua  1 

And  my  wild  teelhless  Bawtie's  dead ; 
Isie's  sair  'tween  Htt  and  Foi, 
n  guidirife's  wee  birdie  cocta ; 

.  _  the  hen-ljirda  onco  civil : 

The  tithet's  something  dear  o'  treadin', 
"-■  ■--—-■  Btuff  ne'er  ciaw'd  amiildea. 

trs,  come  mount  the  pu'pit' 
And  cry  till  ye  he  hoarse  or  ronpit. 
For  Eii-hty-Mght  ha  wish'd  you  wed. 


Te  bonni( 


s'  di^t  your  e 


Eighty-eight,  ye  ken,  was  ta'en. 
What  yell  ne'er  hae  to  ^e  again. 
Observe  the  very  nowte  and  sheep. 
Tow  douf  and  dowie  now  they  creep| 
lay,  even  the  yirlh  itseV  does  cry. 
For  Emliro'  wells  are  grutten  dry. 
Oh  Eighty-nine,  thou's  but  a  bium. 
And  no  owre  auld,  I  hope,  to  learu  I 
Thou  heardleas  boy,  I  pray  tak'  care. 
Thou  now  has  got  thy  daddy's  chair, 
Nae  hand-cuFd,  muisl'd,  hap-sliaekl'd  R«- 
But  like  himsel',  a  full  free  agent,        j^t. 


it  the  pis 
ir  than  he  did,  honex 
As  muckle  better  aa  you  can. 


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EIJENS'S  POETICAL  WOKKS. 


SHiims  ti  ffeE  ffinntji-ailiP, 


Wi'  gnawing  vengeana 


rickle  I 
micUe, 


As  round  the  lire  the  gigleta  kcckia, 

Toseemeloup; 
While,  raving  mad,  I  wish  a  iieMt 

Were  in  their  doup. 
O"  rf  (ho  nnm'roua  human  dools, 
III  har'au,  daft  bargnina,  outty-atools, 
Or  mrthy  friends  rak'd  i'  the  moola, 

Sad  eight  to  see  ! 
The  triclu  o'  knaves,  or  ftish  o'  fools— 

Tliou  hear'at  the  gree. 

Whence  a'  the  tones  o'  misVy  jell. 
And  ranked  plagues  their  numbers  tell, 

In  dreadfu'  raw. 
Thou,  Toothache,  anrely  bear'at  the  hell 

Oh  thou  grim  mischief-making  cbiel, 


ingcbiel, 
.rd  squeel. 


and'3  weal 
ond'a  Toothache  I 


Dweller  in  yon  dungeon  dark, 
Hangman  of  creation,  mark ! 
Who  in  widow-weeds  appears, 
ladea  with  unlionoured  years, 
Noosing  «ith  care  a  bursting  pursti 
Baited  with  many  a  deadly  curse  I 

View  the  wilhcr-d  beldam's  face— 


a  rheum  o'erflows, 


Keeper  of  Mai 
Lo,  there  she  g 


is,  unpitied  and  unblest 
to  realms  of  everkating  reW! 


lie  eyes, 


Seeat  thou 


Qse  step,  uuwilling.    hither 

No  Men  angel,  hnrl'd  from  upper  akies ; 
Tis  thy  (rusty  quondam  male, 
Doom'd  to  share  thy  fiery  fate. 
She,  tardy,  hell-watd  pliea. 


ig  pounds  a-year? 


And  are  they  of  no 

Ten  thousand  glitt^ 

In  other  woida,  can  oiammon  laii, 

Omnijiotent  as  he  is  here  f 

Oh,  hitter  mock'ry  of  the  pompous  bier. 

While  down  the  wretched  viial  part  is  driv'ii 

The  eBTe-lodg'd  beggar,  with  a  conscieni 

Eipures  iu  rags,  unknown,  and  goes  to  Heav'J 

frtltc  In  gams  ffEnnaiit, 

OF    GLENCONNEIL    (313) 

How's  ft'  ibe  folk  about  Gleneoniiei  f 
How  do  you  tills  blae,  etstlin  wind. 
That's  like  to  blaw  a  body  blind  ? 
ly  ticultiea  are  ftoaeii. 


arlydc 


And  ill 

PvB  sent  you  here,  by  Job 

Taa  sage  philoaophera  to  glic^ae  on : — 

Smith,  ni'  his  sympathetic  feeling. 

And  Reid,  to  common  sense  appealinj^. 

Pliilosopliers  bote  fought  and  wmiglei. 

And  raeikle  Greek  and  Latin  mangled. 

Till  wi'  their  lopic-jai^n  tu-'d. 

And  in  the  depth  of  adence  mb-'d. 

To  common  sense  they  now  appeal. 

Whet  n^ves  and  wabsters  see  aud  feeL 

rk  ye,  friend  I  I  charge  you  atrktiy, 
'lem,  and  return  them  quickly, 
I'm  grown  eae  cureiid  donee 


I  pray 
Mysh 


findm 


Perusing  Bunyan,  Brown,  and  Boston 
Till  bye  and  bye,  if  I  baud  on, 
I'll  gnmt  a  blouset  gospel  groan : 
Already  I  begin  to  try  it. 
To  cast  ray  e'en  up  like  a  pyet, 
When  by  the  gun  she  tumbles  o'er, 
Flutt'ring  and  gasping  in  her  gore : 
Sae  shortly  you  shall  Bee  me  bright, 
A  burnuig  aud  a  cliiLing  light. 


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iij  heut-wnrn  love  to  gnid  anld  Glen, 
The  Bce  and  wole  o'  houeat  men : 
WItm  bending  down  wi'  auld  grey  hairs 
Beneath  the  load  of  years  aud  cares. 
May  He  who  mode  liim  atill  support  hir 
And  views  beyond  the  grave  eoml'orC  hin 
His  worthy  famly,  far  and  near 
God  bless  them  a'  wi'  grace  and  pear  I 
My  auld  achooifiillow,  preacher  Willie, 

And  Anchenbay,  I  wish  hhn  joy ; 


OJT  SEEDv'G  A  WOUNDED  HARE.  173 

WiUi  knonledgB  so  vast,  and  with  judgment 


Hhe'a 


May  he  he  dad,  aud  Meg 

Just  five-aud-forty  ypars  tbegither  1 

And  no  forgetting  wahaicr  Charlie, 

I'm  told  he  offers  very  fMrly. 

And,  Lord  remember  eingiiig  Sannock, 

Wi'  hale  breeks,  aeipence.  and  a  hannockj 

And  nest  my  auld  acqnaintance  Nancy, 

Since  ahe  ia  litted  to  her  fancy ; 

And  her  kind  stars  hae  airted  tiQ  het 

A  good  chiel  wi'  a  piclde  siller. 

My  Jandest,  best  reapects  !  sen'  it. 

To  cmiein  Sale  and  sister  Jauel ; 

Tell  them,  frae  roe,  wi'  chiela  be  cantioua. 

For,  fmth,  tiicy'll  aiblins  fin'  them  fashions. 

And  lastly,  Jamie,  for  yonrsel, 

May  guardian  angela  tak  a  spell. 

And  ateer  you  aeven  miles  soiich  o'  helL 

But  first,  before  you  aee  lieaven'a  glory. 

May  ye  grt  mony  a  meiry  story, 

Mony  a  laugh,  and  mony  s  driuk. 

And  aye  euuugh  o'  ueetfru'  dink. 

Now  fare  ye  weel,  and  joy  be  ivi'  yon. 


aaket 


si  beg 


a'  ye  < 


;o  you 


!il  /laginiirt. 


Howwiadomand  folly  meet,  mix  and  nnite; 
How  virtue  and  vice  blend  Iheir  black  and 

How  genius,  th''illuatrious  father  of  fiction. 
Confounds  rule  and  law,  teconriles  contra- 
diction— [bustle. 


A  sorry,  poor  mlsbegot  son  of  the  muae^ 
For  using  tby  uame  offers  dfCy  excuaet. 
Good  L — d,  wliat  ia  man  ?  for  as  simple  he 

loota ;  [crooks. 

Do  but  try  to  develope  hia  boota  and  his 
Vnib  hl9  deptlis  and  fna  shalluns,  his  sood 

and  bis  evil,  f^vil. 

All  in  all  he's  a  problem  must  pusste  the 
On  his  one  ruling  passion  Sir  Pope  hugely 

That,  like  tli'  Hebrs 

up  its  neighbonr   , 
Mankmd  are  his  show-boi—n  fi 

you  know  bim  ? 
Pull  the  atruig,  ruling  passion 


ilking-switch,  eats 
I— a  friend,  would 


It  pi^y,  ii 


Hug,  particula 


Some  sort  all 
And  think  hi 


lalities,  each  to  its  tribe, 
uman  nature  they  truly  describe ; 
'ound  this,  or  fotho-I  there's 
the  wind,  [youll  And. 

drimken   fellow  his  comrades 
;he  flaw,  or  the  depth  of  tbe  plan, 
lu  the  make  of  tbac  wonderful  creature  caU'd 

ues,  wlmtever  rektion  they  claim, 
ro  dilferent  shades  of  the  same. 


dn  llwins  b  SJniiiifirii  Mm 


And  blasted  be  thy  m 
May  never  pity  soothe  thee  with  a  sigh' 
ior  ever  pleasure  glad  thy  cruel  heart. 

0  live,  poor  wanderer  of  the  wood  and  fiehl  t 
The  hitter  htlle  tliat  of  bfe  remams ; 
No  more  the  tliictening  brakes  and  ver- 

To  thee  shall  home,  or  food,  at  poaCiioe  yield. 


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BTJENS-8   POETICAL  1 


The  cold  earth  with  tliy  bloody  bosom  prest. 


ffllf  Hirk's  aiarct. 

4  SATIBE.   (220) 

'HOnOK,  orthodox. 


■n  of  Ayr  (222),  town  of  Ayr, 


chief  s-breiring ; 
{2XSj  ii  BtiU  deaf 

lb  (;i24)  is  id  roin. 

D'rymple  mild  (22S),  D'rjranle  mQi 

Tho'  j-our  heuit'i  like  a  chiiJ, 
And  your  bfe  like  ihe  iiew-drivea  siibh'. 

Yet  tbu,  wiuna  uie  ye, 

Auld  Satau  must  hue  ye, 
Fot  preaclimg  that  Lbree's  sue  nnd  tws. 

Bumble  John  (226),  Buuble  John, 

Mount  the  steps  wi'  a  gtuan, 
Cly  the  book  ii  wi'  lieresy  cramm'il : 

Then  lug  ont  yoiir  ladie. 


Andro 


Ileal  bi 


e  idle. 


Simper  James  |227),  9im)wr  James, 
Leave  tbe  £ur  Killie  dames, 

Thwe's  a  holiec  chase  in  yoiu  view  ; 
I'll  lay  ou  your  liead, 
TliBl  the  pack  ye'll  aoon  lead. 

For  puppies  like  you,  there's  but  few, 

Singet  Samiey  (2281,  Sioget  Sawney, 
Are  ye  huirding  the  penny, 

UncouseiDns  ubot  evil  await; 
Wi,  a  jump,  yell,  and  howl. 
Alarm  every  soul, 

:^thebul  (hiefisjuat  ■tfomrgata 


DaSdy  Auld  (229),  Daddy  Anl4 
ITiere's  a  tod  in  the  fauld, 
tod  meikle  waut  tl.aci  the  derk  (230) 


And  if  ye  canua  bile,  ye  may  bark. 
Cai-ie  Blnster  (231|,  Datie  Blus 


se  (232),  Joiny  Goose, 
I'ickedlieuleiiiuit;' 


Bui  the  lloctur's 

Fortbelj— d's  halyatk; 
!  has  cooper'd  and  cawt  a  wtong  pin  int 

Poet  Tnilie  (233),  Poet  Willie, 

Gic  the  Doctor  a  volley, 
V  your  liberty's  Cliaia  siid  year  witi 


Ye  ne'er  l^d  a 


an,  the  place  where  he 
tk  (234),  Andro  Gouk, 
udLT  the  book. 


id  je'il  luie  a  calf's  head  o'  sma'  value. 
Katr  Steenie  (235),  Barr  Steenie, 


To  bavins  aud  seii^, 

Wi'  people  wba  ken  ye  kuow  I 

rnine  ride  (230),  Irvine  a 

ivr  your  turkey-cock  ptii 

Of  manhood  but  ama.'  is  your  i 

lieu  your  toes  will  allow, 
And  your  friends  iliey  date  . 


oufound  tbe  poor  Doctor  at  i 

Holy  Will  (233),  Holy  Will, 

■When  ye  pilfcr'd  the 


IBS  o'  tbe  poor ; 


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SKETCH— NEW  YEAR'S  DAT. 
n's  sons,  Lotd  help  me  thro' 


Tour  hearts  me  the  stuff. 

Will  be  powther  eiiDUgli. 

And  jour  akulls  are  slofehouscs 

Wi'  your  prksc-akelpiog  tu 
Why  desert  ye  your  euW  native 

E'en  though  slie  ivete  lipai 
She  could  ca'  us  nae  nauc  Ilian 


e,  firm  Resolve,  take  thou  the  Tan, 
Thou  stolk  o'  catl  hemp  in  m»n  1 

"  let  US  miuJ,  fiiiui  heart  ne'er  wan 

Whi  does  the  utmost  ilmt  he  can. 


ElMavd,  21»(  Oct.  1780. 
Wow,  but  ycmr  letter  made  me  vanntie ! 
And  are  je  hale,  and  weel,  and  csntie  ? 
I  lenn'd  it  siih  your  wee  bit  jauntie. 

Wad  bring  ye  to ; 
Lord  send  you  aye  aa  weei's  I  want  ye, 

The  m-Oiiefliliw  the  Heron  south  1  (23D) 
And  never  drink  be  near  his  drouth ! 
He  tauld  inysel  by  word  o'  mouth, 

H^d  tolt  my  letter ; 
1  Gppen'd  to  die  chield  En  ttouth. 

And  bade  (210)  use  better. 
But  rihlins  bonest  Master  Heron 
Had  at  the  time  »>nie  dainty  fur  one 
To  ware  his  iheolo    -  - 


And  tir'd  o*  souls  to 


itudy; 


ried  the  b( 


But  what  d'ye  think,  my  trusty  fier, 
I'm  turned  i  fcauf^er— Pence  be  here ! 
nanaaaian  queans.  I  fear,  I  fear, 

Yell  now  disdain  me  1 
And  then  my  My  pounds  a.year 

Will  little  gain  me, 
Te  glaiket,  jleesome,  dainty  doraies, 
"Wha,  by  CttBtalia's  nimplin'  streamies. 
Lawn,  MflK,  oud  lave  your  pretty  limbies, 

Ye  keti,  ye  ken, 
Tint  etrai^  necessity  iixpreme  is 

'Jiang  sons  o'  men, 
I  hae  a  wife  and  twa  wee  laddies. 
They  maun  lue  brose  and  brats  o'  daddies ; 
Te  keo  yoursela  my  heart  light  proud  is— 


'onclude  my  silly  rhyme, 
:  a  hajipy  lii 


My  cnmplinients  to  sister  Beckie ; 
Ami  eke  the  same  to  honest  Lucky, 
I  wat  she  is  a  dainty  chuckie. 


Faib  the  fan 


oforie 


But  tairer  still  my  Delia  daivns. 

More  lovely  tar  her  beauty  simw*. 
Sweet  the  lark's  wild  nfirbled  Igy, 

Sweet  the  tinkling  till  to  hear ; 
But,  Delia,  more  delightful  still. 

Tlieflower-eniunoured  busy  bee, 

'      treaiulef  s  limpid  la^^ 
ui-brown'd  Arab's  lip. 
But,  Delia,  on  thy  baJmy  lips 


Sweet  the 


Letm 
Oh,li 


,  no  vagrant  i: 


TO   MRS   DUNLOP..(242) 


the  old,  bald-pated  ft 
With  ardent  ^es,  completion  sallow, 
.  „  apair'd  machine 

To  wheel  the  equal,  fall  routina 


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176 


ITie  sbsent  lover,  minor  heir. 
In  vain  asBail  him  «iih  their  prayer  j 
lieiS  OS  iny  friend,  he  sees  them  press, 
Nor  makes  the  hour  one  motpenl  leas. 
Will  joa  (the  Mnjor's  (243)  with  the  !iound>, 
Tlie  happ;  ceuauts  shsre  his  rouuds ; 
Coila's  fere  Kndiel's  (244)  care  to-day. 
And  bloomiuR  Keith's  en!,-aged  with  Gray) 
From  Iwnisenife  cures  a  mitiute  borrow — 
— That  grandchild's  oqi  Bill  do  to-morrow — 
And  join  with  me  a-moraliiing: 
This  day's  propitions  to  be  wise  in. 
Tint,  what  did  yesternight  deliver  ? 
"  Another  jest  ia  gone  for  eser." 


BUIffl'S'S  POETICAL  ■WORKS. 

Old  Father  'Rme  deputes  me  here  before  ye. 
Not  for  to  preach,  but  tell  his  simple  story ; 
Tiie  sBge  grave  ancieut  cough'd,  and  hade 

me  say, 
"  You're  ojie  year  older  this  imporluiit  ilay." 
If  wiser^  too — he  hinted  some  suggestion. 
But  twovid  be  mde,  yon  know,  to  ask  the 

dd-be  lojiiish  leer  and  w 


er  year  ia  gone  fo 


esto 

n-for  what?  what  do  we  here? 

rwh 

rcgstd  the  passing  year  f 

illu 

me,  Bmus  d  with  proverb'd  lor% 

Add  to 

A  tev  days  may — a  few  years  must — 

Repose  us  in  the  silent  dust. 

Then  is  it  wise  tc  damp  our  bliss  ? 

Yes-all  such  reasonings  are  amiss  I 

T'he  voice  of  Katnre  loudly  cries. 

And  many  a  nieaaage  ftom  the  sluca, 

That  something  in  us  never  dies : 

Tliat  on  this  tisil,  uncertain  stat^ 

Hang  matters  of  eternal  weight ; 

That  future  life  in  worlds  uuknown 

Must  lake  its  hue  from  this  alone ; 

Whether  as  lieavenly  glory  bright, 

Or  dark  as  misery's  wocfiJ  night, 

Kuce,  tlieii,  my  honour'd,  Urat  of  friend^ 

Ou  tliia  poor  Ijeing  all  depends. 

Let  US  th'  importaaD  huw  employ. 

And  live  as  those  who  never  die, 

Tho'  you,  sith  days  and  honours  cramiH, 


^sS'pa'it'e 


t'3-DAY  EVENING.  [1790]' 

dance  1  bring  from  yon  greit 
;a3te — the  more'a 


That  queens  it  o'er 

Tho",    hy-tiie-bye,  abroad    why 

Good  sense  and  taste  are  nativi 


He  badi 


otd— 


n  the  world  by  dint  of 


Te  sprightly  yout 

and  spirit. 
Who  think  to  si 


To  you  the  dotard  hBS  a  deal  to  say. 

In  his  sly,  dry,  sententious,  proverb  way ; 

He  bids  you  mind,  amid  your  thoughtless 

mttle, 
That  thefirst  blow  is  ever  half  the  Iiattle; 
That  tho'  some  hy  the  skut  may  try  to 

You  may  do  miracles  bj 
Last,  tho'  not  least  in  love,  ye  youthful  fair, 
Augehc  forms,  high  Heaven's  peculiar  caje  1 
To  you  old  IiaLd-^>aGe  smooths  liis  wrinkled 

And  humbly  begs  you'll  mmd  the  impottont 

To  cromi  your  happiness  he  asks  your  leav^ 

For  one  amcere,  tho'  haply  weak  endeavours, 

favours ; 
And  howsoe'er  our  tongues  may  ill  reveal  it. 
Believe  our  glownig  bosoms  truly  feel  it. 


is  new  play  and  that  new  sang 
liin'  ? 

outlandish  stuff  sae  meikle  courte 
nsense  mend  like  whidkey,  when  i 

line  poet,  burning  keen  for  fame, 


Ho,t,db,  Google 


WlJ'AIli;  BEEWD  A  PECK  O'J^IATJT 


It  is  tie  menu, I.  i™  ier  Tinrp.. 
TiatV.  "isliukjiig  mtk'  litt  3'ie  hi; 


.sted  by  Google 


Ho,t,db,  Google 


PEG  KICH0L80S. 


Vallace  stood,  hou  haples 


Oh  for  a  Shakspeare  or  an  Otway  scene 
To  draw  the  losely,  hapless  Stottish  Queen  1 
Vam  all  th'  omnipotente  of  female  charma 
'Gainst  headlong,  rurtileia,  mad  Rehellion's 


As  able  and  as 
One  Uou^loa  li 
But  Doui'lasai 
And  tho'  your 
A  Douglas  '  " 


as  the  Devil  1 

Home's  immortal  page, 

3,  nrodiral  of  life, 
rtial  atrits 


a  if  boivls  row  right,  aud  Bight  am 
e  a  DoDgks  leads ! 


them; 
And  aiblins  vhen  they  winna  stand  the  test, 
Wiiik  Imtd  and  say  the  folks  hae  done  their 

Would  a'  the  land  do  this,  then  111  be  eau- 

Yell  eooD  hae  poets  o'  the  Scottish  nation, 
Will  gar  fiinie  blaw  until  her  tmniDet  crack. 
And  a-arsle  Ti 


Id  for 


f  stage  should  ony  i^ 


"Wha'a  anght  thae  cliiela  laaka  a'  this  bua- 

My  hest  leg  foremost,  I'll  set  ap  my  hrow. 
We  have  the  honour  to  heloi^  to  yon ! 
We're  your  ain  hmrus,  e'en  guide  us  as  ye 


But  like'  gnde  mithers,  shore  hefote  you 

Bnc  now  she's  floating  down  the  Nith, 

And  giatefu'  still  I  hope  ye'll  ever  find  ua, 

And  past  the  month  o'  Caim. 

Fur  a-  the  patronage  and  meikle  kindness 

Peg  Nicholson  was  a  good  bay  mare. 

And  rode  Ihro' thick  snd  thin; 

God  help  ua !   we're  but  poor-ye'se  get 

But  now  she's  floatuig  down  the  Nith, 

bWthanks. 

And  \taiitius  e'en  the  skin. 

How  guessed  ye,  i 
This  tnony  a  day  I've  grain'd  aud  gannted. 
To  ken  what  French  niisehief  was  brewin'. 
Or  wlist  the  drumlie  Dutch  were  doln*; 
That  vde  doup-skelper.  Emperor  Joseph, 
If  Venus  yet  had  got  his  nose  off; 
Or  how  the  coUieshangie  works 
Atween  the  Russians  and  the  Turks ; 
Or  if  the  Swede,  before  be  halt, 
Would  play  anlther  Charles  the  Twrit  i 
If  Dennmtk,  ony  body  spak  o't ; 


blades 


Or  how  our  merry  lails  at  hame, 

In  Britain's  court,  kept  up  the  game'; 

How    royal    Geoi^e,    the  Lord    leuk  c/a 

Was  managing  St  Stephen's  quotuni; 
If  aleekit  Chatham  Will  was  Uvirj', 
Orglaikit  Charlie  got  his  niev&m; 
Hnw  daddie  Buike  the  plea  was  cookm', 
if  Warren  Hastings'  neck  wi  ' '  " 


Orifbf 


ai'd. 


ie,  Oeordie  Wales. 
V.  as  mresnm-  atill  at  liisiies'  tails ; 
Or  if  he  was  grown,  oughiliua  douser. 
And  na  a'  pei-fect  Idntrn  eooser. 
A'  this  and  mair  I  ueirer  heard  of, 
And  but  for  you  I  might  despair'd  of. 
So  gratefii',  back  your  news  I  send  yon. 
And  pray,  a'guid  things  may  attend  youl 
Eiiisfoarf,  Monday  Morning. 


^g  Mirllfllsim.  (S45) 

PeO  Nicholson  was  a  good  bay  man 


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BURSS'S  POETICAL  WORKS, 

martial  phospho 


tin  JUii ».  (!«9 

Thou  bed,  in  which  I  fiiat  beiran 
To  be  tbat  tarioua  crealute— J/nn/ 
And  wlieii  again  the  Fates  decree. 
The  place  where  1  must  cease  to  be  ;- 
When  Mclmeaa  comes,  to  whc™  I  fly, 
To  wiothe  m;  pun,  oi  close  mine  eye 

Or  lose  tlieni  sll  in  balmy  sleep  ;— 
■  When  sore  with  labour,  whom  I  ci 
Aiid  to  thy  downy  breast  resort- 
Where,  too  ecal«ic  jnys  I  find, 
When  deiftns  my  Dolia  lo  he  kind 
And  fiill  of  love,  in  all  her  charms, 
lliou  giv'st  the  fair  one  to  mv  am 
The  centre  I 


>urli 


So  many  various  scenes  take  place ; 

Ab  sages  dictate — churchmen  preach; 

And  man,  convinced  by  thee  alone, 

Thia  great  unportnnt  truth  shiiU  own: 

TAot  Uiu  jiartilM"  da  dickle 

The  bounds  where  good  and  ill  reside; 

That  nought  is  pei/ccf  here  ielom; 

Mat  BLiaa  still  burdeiing  spoa  woe."  (247) 


/irst  (Cpirflp  tH  ^r.  ScHlian 


Her  eye  intent  on  all  the  msaj  plan, 
She  formed  of  various  parts  the  various  roan. 
Then  first  she  calls  the  useful  many  forth ; 
Hun  plodding  industry,  and  sober  worth ; 
Thence    peasanta,  iarmers,  uativQ   sons  of 
earth,  [birth: 

And  roereinndise'  whole  genus  take  their 
'Eaek  prudent  cit  a  warm  e^tistence  AaAs. 
Ill  mechanics' 


1  other 


i)  taught  to  flow, 
philosophic  dough, 
marks  th'  unyieldii^  mass  with  grave 


pole^ 

TTie  fla.-hiog  elements  of  female  souls. 
Ilie  order'd  ayafem  fur  before  her  stood. 
Nature,  well-pleas' d,  pronounced  it  Y&iy  good; 


imy,  flery,  igaUfataos  mutter, 
the  sLghtesl  breath  of  air  i 


%U 


With  arch  idacrity  and  conscious  jrlee 
fNatnre  may  hai-e  her  whim  as  well  as  we, 
Her  I  logarth-art  perhaps  she  meant  to  showiQ 
She  fbnna  thethm)(,andi;hrisli:iiait — apoe^ 
Creature,  dio'  oft  the  prey  of  care  and  sorrow, 
■""' "    blest  to-diy,  u    "   "  '   '  ' ~ 


)<■  furin 


cr  friends, 
da'd — and  tjiere  Che  homa^ 

A  mortal  quite  unfit  (ax  fortune's  strife, 
Yet  oft  the  sport  of  all  the  ilia  of  life  i 
Prone  to  enjoy  each  pleasure  riches  give, 
Yet  haply  wantuig  wherewithal  to  hve; 
Longingto  wipe  each  tear,  to  heal  oadi  groan* 
Yet  frequeutly  unheeded  in  his  owiL 
But  hone<t  Nature  is  not  quite  a  TnVk, 
Shelaogh'dalKtsc.tlienfeUfiir  her  poor  work. 
I^tyiug  the  proplesa  climber  of  mankind. 


luid; 
Anci,  to  support  his  helpless 
Atlach'd  liiin  to  the  senerous  ttuij  great, 
A  title,  and  the  only  one  I  clahn. 
To  lay  strong  liold  for  help  on  bounteoui 


That  never  gires—tho*  humbly  takes  enough  J 
Tlie  little  fete  allows,  tbsy  share  as  soon, 
XJitlike  aage  provcrb'd  wisdom's  hard-wrung 


Who  feel  by  reason  and  who  give  by  rule, 
(fnatinet's  a  brute,  and  sentiment  a  fool!) 
Who  make  poor  vdU  do  wait  upon  I  ahauld — 
We  oi™  they're    prudmit,  but  who  feels 


The  lead  and  buoy  are  needful  to  the  net ;  God's  image  rudely  etch'd  on  base 
The  capiU  roartiaim  of  gross  desires  [squires  i  But,  come,  ye  who  the  godlike  pleas 
Uakes  &  material  Ibt    mere    knigbtj  and  |  Heaven'aattributedistinguished — I 


Ho,t,db,  Google 


THE  FIVE  CAELIfTES. 


le  would  grasp  tlie  human 
race:  (gracs; 

Come  thou  who  giv'st  with  sll  a  courtier's 
Friend  of  my  life,  true  piCron  of  my  rhymes! 
Prop  of  my  dearest  liopes  for  future  times.  ; 
Why  shrinks  my  soul  haifhiushing,  half  tifraii 
Backward,  obash'd,  to  ask  tliy  friendly  aid? 
I  know  toy  need,  I  know  thy  giving  hand,  [ 
J  crave  tliy  friendship  at  thy  kind  comQiimd; 
Butthereare  suchwho  court  tlie  tuneful  nine — 
Ileavensi  ihould  the  branded  clmracte 


Whose  serseij 

Mark,  how  thei 

Srck  not  the  pi 
Pily  ihe  best  o 


[flow»,   ] 
manhood's  pride  sublimely 


le  larli 


I  shriU  Bc 


To  send  a  lad  to  Lon'on  town. 

They  met  upon  a  day. 
And  mony  a  knight,  and  mnny  a  laird, 

Theu  errand  &in  would  gao. 

0  mony  a  knight  and  many  a  lajrd, 
Tbisemuid  bin  would  gae; 

ould  tlieit  fancy  pleas^ 

as  a  belted  knight  (21B), 

ae  to  Lon'on  town, 

•aaa  him  withstaii'. 

le  wad  do  their 


But  grovelliij  on  the  earth  the  carol  ends.  I  .  J^".?,  '^^^  *•%  ™1  *»!'■ 
lu  all  the  cUun'rou*  ery  of  stamng  want,  :  ■'^'Sr^.'-.l'i^  t  tf^  °"™] 
They  dun  benevolence  with  shameless  Irout;  ""  '     '      '^    "*  '"" 

Oblige  them,  patronise  their  tuisel  lays, 
ITiey  persecute  you  all  your  future  dayi 
!Ere  my  poor  sonl  such  deep  damnation  9 
My  horny  6st  assume  tbe  plough  again 
"■■^  -    '  -  bald  jaekec  let  ine  [latch  once  r 


Would  bU  to 
'    Anihewi 


1,1  d 


On  eigiitei 
Tho',  ihatik; 


Thai,  pkc'd 

height, 

■Where,  man 


ffjic  fiat  i^aiiints.  (2^8) 

Therd  were  five  carliues  in  tlie  south. 

They  feU  upon  n  scheme. 
To  send  a  lad  to  Lon'on  loira, 

To  bring  them  tidiugs  hame. 
Nor  only  bring  them  tidings  haiw^ 

But  do  their  errands  Iliere, 
And  aiblins  gowd  and  honour  haith 

Might  be  that  laddie's  shave. 
There  was  Maa^  by  the  b  mks  o'  Nith, 

A  dame  with  pride  enengh. 
And  Marjory  o'  the  Mwiylochs, 

A  CMhne  auld  and  teugh. 
And  bUnkin'  Bess  o'  Annandate, 

That  dwelt  near  Solwayside, 
And  whisky  Jem,  that  took  her  giU, 

In  Galloway  sie  wide. 


He> 


Nor 


Vad  ne'a 


echt  them  courtly  glRs, 
le  speeeli  preieuA 


wbom  refiis^ 


<me  hod  gentle  folks  to  pleas^ 
i  some  would  please  Iheniad. 

lut  spak  mim-mou'd  Meg  o'  Nith, 
i  sbe  spak  up  wi'  pride. 
And  she  wad  send  the  sodger  youth, 

er  might  betide. 
For  the  auld  guidmnn  o"  Lon'on  eouM  (25 

She  didna  care  a  pin ; 
But  she  wad  send  the  soi^r  youth 

To  greet  his  eldest  sou.  yZoi) 
Then  up  sprang  Bess  o'  Annandite, 

Tial  slie  wad  vote  the  border  knisht. 
a'hongh  sh 


Ind  f,«h 


B  should  vote  1 
wis  hae  feathei 


But  1  hae  tried  the  border  knight. 
And  I'U  try  him  yet  again. 

The  auld  guidman.  and  the  young  guidman. 
For  me  may  siiji  or  swim ; 


Ho,t,db,  Google 


BURNS'S  POETICAL  W0EE3. 


'3  win  treat  o'  risht  or  ntang. 

e  Bodger's    frienda    hoe  blawn  t 


liislij  Jenn  apak  owie  her  drink. 


Inil  mony  B  friend 


It  kiss'd  his  cup. 


But  it'a  ne'er  be  anid  a'  wliLsky  Jean- 
Ill  send  the  border  knighl. 

TTieri  slow  raise  Morjorj-  o"  tha  Loch, 
And  wrinkled  waa  her  brow. 

Her  andent  weed  was  russet  grey, 
Her  auld  Scots  bluid  was  true ; 

There's  some  great  folks  set  light  by  me- 
I  set  na  light  by  them; 


ik  weel  to  hiruaeL 

Sfinnti  episilc  tn  3Hr-  Sojiom, 

OF   FINTBY.      (253). 

iNTttT,  m;  8l*y  in  worldly  strife. 


O'er  Pegasus  I'll  Wing  my  leg, 
Aud  ye  shall  aee  nie  try  him. 


Who  left  the  all- 


imnorifiiit  cat 
ind  their  darl 


Of  princes  ar  „   . 

And  bent  on  winuing  boroi^h  towns. 
Came  shaking  hands  »i'  wflhster  louua. 

And  kisnng  barefit  carhus. 


Combustion  through  o 


As  Queeosberty  buff  and  bl' 

And  Weslerha'  and  Hopetoi 

To  every  Whig  defiance 


boroughs  rode 


Besides,  be  hated  bleeilJTig; 
But  left  behind  him  heroes  bright, 
Heroes  in  Cxsareao  hgbt 

Ot  Ciceronian  pleading. 


in  the  Held  of  pohiic 
To  win  imDiortal  ho 


wge  Mons-m^  (2Stii 
ardent  Whig 
nnnlaiirig's  btuuersj 


Jlllurdo  and  his  lotely  spouae, 

'   kiss  her  browsj 
ind  graces; 


Xfd  on  the  lo 
She  won  eaeh  gopi  „ 
While  he,  all  conqnering,  pioy'd  liis  part 


id  losses 


CrdgdarrochJedalight-arm'deorps] 
Tropes,  metaphora.  and  figures  pour, 

JLJke  lleda  streaming  thunder; 
Glenriddel,  skill'd  m  rusty  coins, 
Blew  up  each  Tory's  dark  designs. 

And  bar'd  the  treason  under, 
In  futher  wing  two  champions  fought 


While  JIaKweltD 
Mid  Iflwson's  p: 


Squadrons  exteuded  long  an< 

With  furious  speed  rosh'd  ti 

Like  raging  devils  drivii 


his  hold, 
los'd; 

kte 
ir'dj 


As  flames  ainaiig  a  hundred  woods; 

As  headlong  foam  a  hundred  floods  | 

Such  is  the  n^^e  of  battle. 

The  stubborn  Tories  dare  to  die ; 
As  soon  the  rooted  oaks  would  fly, 

Before  th'  approaching  fellers ; 
The  Whigs  cooie  on  like  ocean's  roar 
Wlun  all  hia  wintry  billows  pour 

Against  the  Budum  Bullers.  (£55) 


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CAPTAIN  GEOSE'S  PEEEGIIINATIONS. 


Lo,  from  the  sh»r'es  of  death's  deep  Biglt, 
Departed  'Whigs  uiijoy  the  %ht, 

And  think  on  fonnet  dsring; 
The  muffled  murtherer  of  Charles  (256), 
'I'be  ]^a^a  CharlA  dag  unJFurLa, 

All  deadly  gules  its  bearing. 
Nor  wanting  ghosts  of  Tory  fame ; 
Bold  Scr[mgeonr  (2S7)  follows  gallant  Gra- 
hanie— (258) 

fForeive,  forgive,  much-«rong"d  Mo^t^ 
Whfle  death  and  hell  engulf  thy  foes. 

Thou  liY'st  on  high  for  ever  I ) 
Still  o'flT  the  Geld  the  combat  bum? ; 
He  Tories,  Whigs,  pve  way  by  tumi ; 

But  file  the  word  has  apoken — 
Por  woman's  wit,  or  atrength  of  nian, 
Alaa  I  am  do  but  what  tliey  can — 

The  Tory  ranks  are  hriilLen  I 


Oh  that  my  e't 


alio) 


fing  hums  I 


NowFoi 


rtjoic 


lurke  shall  sing,  "       . 

Tliy  power  ia  aU-prevailing  1 " 
Pot  your  poor  friend,  the  Bard  afir. 
He  hears,  and  oidy  hears  the  war, 

A  cool  spectator  purely ; 
8o  when  the  storm  ihe  forest  rends, 
'ilie  robin  in  tlie  hed^  descends 

Aiul  sober  chirps  securcl)'. 


^  CiiliJam  Smst's  ^trrgrinali 

J.  (259) 
nny  Groats; 


lang  you  I 


1  to  ane  ye'l!  tnd  liira  snug  iu 

Some  eldntch  part, 
dls,  they  say,  Lord  save's  !  coUeaguin' 


ilk  ghaiat  that  hau 
Ye  eipsey-Eane  tha 
And  you,  deep-reai 


That  I  might  greet,  that  1  niiKht  cry. 
While  TorisB  fill,  while  Tories  fly. 

And  furious  Whigs  pursuing  I 
What  Whig  hut  wails  the  good  Sir  James ; 
Dear  to  his  country  by  the  names 

Friend,  Patron,  Bene&ecor? 
Not  Fulteny'a  wealth  CEUi  Fultejiy  save  1 
And  Hopeton  falls,  the  generous  brave  ] 

And  Stuart  bold  as  Hector  I 
TboD,  Ktt,  shall  me  this  overthrow. 
And  Thiirlow  growl  a  curse  of  woe, 

And  Melville  1 


It's  tauld  he  wi 
And  ane  wad  ri 
But  uow  he's  q 


.  coiijuring  hammer, 
midnight  bitcliea. 
a  Bodger  bred, 
ler  fa'ii  than  fled; 
t  the  spurtle  biad^ 


He  haa  a  fouth  o'  auUl  nich-nackets. 
Rusty  aird  caps  and  jinglin'  jackets. 
Wad  hind  the  Loihiiws  ihi-ee  in  tickets. 


Of  Ere's  drat  fire  he  has  a  cinder ; 
Auld  Tubakain-8  lire-shool  and  fender  I 
That  which  disihigui  jlicd  the  gender 

,  O'  Balaam's  ass ; 
A  broom-stick  o'  the  witch  of  Endot, 

Weel  shod  wi'  brass. 
Forbye,  hell  shape  you  aff,  fa'  gl^ 
Hie  cut  of  Adam's  philob^ ; 
The  kuife  tliat  nicket  Abel's  cra^ 

He'll  prove  you  fiJly, 
It  waa  a  faulduig  jocteleg. 

Or  kng-kail  gully, 
wad  ye  see  hira  in  his  glc^ 
meikle  glee  and  fun  has  he, 

Guid' fellows  wi'  hbn. 
And  port,  Oh  port  I  : 


Be  him; 


Thou  art  a  dainty  el 
Whae'er  o'  thee  shal 


Ami,  faith,  he'll  prent  it 


Ho,t,db,  Google 


EUBKS'S  POETICAL  \ 


^titlra  in  an  lEninlnpi, 

6HCJ5E.  (sei) 
Ken  ye  ought  o'  Captain  Grose? 


Itai 


LOtth? 


Igo  ond  ago. 
Of  dtowned  in  tlie  river  Forth  ? 

It  he  Blamhy  Hi^hlan'  bodies? 
Igoandago, 


iabeto 

Or  haudin  Sarah  hy  ihe  wnm 

Iram,  coram,  i 

Where'er  he  be,  tlic  Lord  be 

Aa  Tor  the  dd[,  h'^  duiciia  sti 

Irani,  coiam,  d 
But  please  transiuji  the  eiid< 

Igomdaso, 
WTiich  will  oblige  jour  hum! 

Irom,  coram,  d 
So  may  ye  hae  aiJd  stanea  in 

1^0  iuid  a^o. 
T!ie  very  stanea  I 


ed  letter, 
:  debtor. 


Iram.  cQi 

:et  in  ^lad  | 

Il-o  and  i 


fe  get  in 


SOCIETY.  (262) 

LoNO  life,  my  Lord,  and  health  he  yours, 
TJnscaith'j  by  hunfter'd  Highland  boors ; 
Lord  grant  nae  duddie  desperate  be^ar, 
Wi'  dirli,  claymore,  or  nisly  trl^«r. 
May  twin  uuld  Scotland  o'  a  life 
Bhe  likes — as  Ismbkios  like  i  knife. 

Faith,  you  and  A s  were  right 

To  keep  the  Highland  hoiinda  in  eight; 
I  doubt  na !  tbey  trad  bid  nae  better 
Than  let  them  aiice  out  owre  the  water; 
Then  Dp  amang  thiae  lakea  and  seaa 
Thejil  m»k  what  rules  and  lawa  they  please ; 
Borne  daring  Hancock,  «  a  Franklin, 
May  set  then-  Highland  btuid  a-rankSn' ; 
Some  Washir^on  agtun  may  head  them, 
Or  some  Montgomery,  fearleaa,  lead  them, 
Till  Ood  knows  what  may  be  ejected 
Vlboi  by  such  heads  and  hearts  directed — 


e  the  re 


ns  of  dirt  and  mire 
.  rights  asph^ ! 
now,  nor  -ager  Saclcille, 
;mier  o'er  the  pack  vile, 
le  get  Howes  and  Clintons 
)  a  right  repentance, 
J  generation. 


To  cow 

And  SB  _ _. 

Tliey  and  he  d d !  what  right  hae  they 

To  meal  or  sleep,  or  light  o'  day  ? 

Far  leS5  to  richea,  pow'r  or  freedom. 

But  what  your  lordship  Ukea  to  gie  them  ? 

Bat  hear,  my  lord  !     Glengarry,  hear ! 

Tour  hand's  owre  light  pn'them,  I  fear; 

Your  factors,  grieves,  trustees,  and  bailiea, 

I  eanua  say  but  they  do  gaylies ; 

They  lay  aside  a'  tender  mercies. 

And  tiri  the  hallions  to  the  birses ; 

Tet  while  they're  only  noind't  and  herriet, 

They'U  keep  their  stubborn  Highland  spirit; 

But  smash  them !  crash  them  a'  to  spalls ! 

'inge  them  to  the  labour ; 


J^etivarkmr 
The  bill 


mak  them  sober ! 


they're  aughtlins 


in  Dtury-lone  be  lesson'd  1 
And  if  the  wives  and  dirty  brats 
K'eu  thigger  at  jonr  doors  and  yetts 
Plaffan  wi'  duds  and  grey  wi'  beaa', 
tVighlm'  awa  yonr  deucka  and  geeae, 
(let  out  a  horsewhip  or  a  jowEer, 
The  langest  thong,  the  fieiiest  growler, 
Aiid  gar  the  tatli^red  gypsies'  pack 
Wi'  a'  their  bastards  on  tbeir  back  I 
Gro  OH,  my  Lord  1  I  lang  lo  meet  you, 
'    ' '         '  ■'  greet  you; 


Wi'  common  lord'  , 
The  benmost  neidi  beside  the  ingle. 
At  my  right  han'  assigned  your  seal 
■Tween  Herod's  hip  and  Polycrats- 
Or  if  you  on  yonr  station  tarrow. 
Between  Almagro  and  Fiiarro, 


ingle. 


June  ist.  Anno  SImdi,  5700 


BE£LJlIiBUB. 


Xamrai  irf  ffi^r^  ifmrni  if  srnU, 

Now  Nature  bangs  her  mantle  grecu 

And  spreads  her  sheet  o'  daises  white 

Out  o'er  the  passy  lee : 
Now  Phoibus  cheers  the  crystal  streams, 
'  nd  glads  the  azure  skies ; 
nought  can  glad  the  weary  wi^ht 
bat  fast  in  durmice  ties. 


Ho,t,db,  Google 


THE  WHISTLE. 


gleii. 


Now  laT'rocM  vakfl  tlie  merry  mo 
Aloft  on  dewy  wing ; 

Makes  woodlatul  echoes  ring  : 

The  iDDTis  wild  wi'  moay  a  uow. 

Sing!  drowsy  day  to  reat : 

Wi'  care  «oc  ihrull  opptesc. 
Now  blooms  the  lity  by  the  banl. 

The  priniroae  down  the  brae : 
Ths  hnwthom'n  bmlditig  in  the 

And  milk-irhice  is  Elie  slae ; 
Hie  meenesC  hind  in  fait  Scotland 

May  rove  thai  sweets  araang ; 
But  1,  the  Queen  of  a'  Scociand, 

Mtuin  lie  iii  j^iison  itiang  1 
1  was  the  Queen  o*  bonuie  Prance. 

Where  happy  I  hae  been ; 
Fu'  hgbtJy  rase  I  in  the  morn, 

As  hlytJiB  lay  down  at  e'en  : 
And  I'm  the  sov're^n  of  Scotlani^ 

And  mony  a  traitor  there ; 
ret  here  I  he  in  foreign  bands. 

And  never-ending  one. 
Dnt  aa  for  thee,  thou  false  womtml 

My  Mster  and  my  fae, 
Grim  vengeatiee  yet  shall  whet  a  sword 

Tliat  thro'  thy  aoul  sliail  gae  I 
Tlie  o-eeprng  blood  in  n'Oniaii's  breast 

Was  never  Imowii  to  thee ; 
Nor  th'  Mm  that  draps  on  wounds  of  woe 

Frae  womaa'a  pitynig  e'e. 
My  son  I  my  son  I  may  kinder  stars 

Upon  thy  tortnne  ahiiie ! 
And  may  those  pleasures  gild  Ihy  reign, 

God  keep  thee  frae  vhy  mother's  faes. 


Ortu 


ithar 


And  wher 
Kemem 

thou  meet's 
ber  him  form 

thy  mother's  fricn 

Oh  soon,  to  roe,  may  sn 

Naema 

t  light  np  tl 

Naemair 
Wareo 

to  me,  tlfe  ai 
er  the  yellow 

tumn  winds 

Andinth 

e  narrow  hou 

r^death 

Letwiu 

And  then 

M  flow'rs  tl 

atde^kthesprii^ 

Bloom 

amypeaceft 

dgr«vel 

i!;!ii  ISJisilj,    (383). 

I  BINO  of  a  whistle,  a  uhistle  of  worth, 
I  sing  of  a  wliistle,  tlie  pride  of  the  North, 
Was  hrouglic  to  the  court  of   oar   good 

And  iwi/witk  this  whistle  all   Scotland 


Old  Loda.  (264)  still  tucing  the  arm  of 
PiLgal,  [hah— 

The  god  of  the  bottle  sends  down  from  his 

"This  whistle's  your  dialenge— to  Scotland 
get  o'er,  [me  more  P 

And  drink  iJiem  to  hell.  Sir!  or  ne'er  sea 


Old  p 


'™S. 


and  old  c 


Till  Robert,  the  lord  of  the  Cairn  and  tlia 
Unmatfih'ii  at  the  bottle,  nnconqMci'a  ia 

No  tide  of  the  Baltic  e'er  drunker  than  he. 
Thus  Eohert,    victotions,  the    trophy  has 


Three  joyons  good  fellows,  with  hearts  clear 

asfiair;  [law; 

Cmigdarroeh,  so  famous  for  wit,  worth,  and 

And  trusty  Glenr.ddcl,  so   skdl'd  in    old 

And  gallant  Sir  Robert,  deep-read  ia  old 
CraiKdarroch  b^an.  with  a  tongue  smooth 
Desiring  Glenriddle  to  yield  np  the  spoil ; 

'    d^n,     "  '"    '  "[the  man. 

And  once  more,  in  claret,  try  which  was 
"  By  the  gods  of  the  ancients !"  Gienriddel 

replies, 

"Before  I  surrender  so  glorious  a  prhie, 

I'U  conjure  the  ghost  of  the  great  Rone 

More  (2U^],  [limes  o'er." 

And  bumper  his  horn  with    him   twenty 

Sir  Robert,  a    soldier,    no    speech   would 

pretend.  [or  liis  friend. 

But  he  ne'er  turned  his  back  on  his  (be — 

Said,  (OSS  down  the  whistle,  the  prise  of  the 

field,  [yield. 

And  knee-deep  in  claret,  he'd  die,  or  he'd 

To  the  board    of    Gienriddel    our    heroes 

ow    ami 

tame  [lo™iy  dame. 

lecled  to  witness  the  fray. 


X'.DOgIc 


BL'ItSS'S  POETICAL  WOKKS. 


been. 

The  dinner  fieing  o'er  tbe  claw 
And  ev'r;  new  cork  is  a  new 
In  the  bands  of  uld  frieiidalu 

And  the  ba 

ds  grew  the  tig 

Gay  pleasure 
Brig]it  Flitib 

us  ue'er  nicnesK' 

And  ™w''d  t 
I'm  Cynthia 

at  to  leave  them 
inled  he'd  see  tl 

Ba  bottles 
night. 

piece  had  well 
t   Sir   Kober^ 

[flgbt, 
bottle  of  red, 


Ahigh'raTin 
He  left  the 

the    warfar 
S  Elder  to  V 
oul  busbea 

to  folks  less 

Ibe  gallant 

irEobert  fought  hard  tot 
1  with  fate  aud  quan-b 

Next  up  rose  our  bard,  like  a  pmpbet  in 
drink; —  [sink; 

"Craigdarroeb.thoult  soar  when  creation  shall 
Bnt  iftbou  nuuld  flDUrish  nniDortal  in  rhyme. 
Come— one  Iwtlle  more — and  have  at  the 

Tlqr  line,  tliat  liave  Btmgglcd  for  fieedom 

with  Brace, 
Shall  heroes  and  patriots  ever  producs: 
So  thine  be  the  laurel  and  mine  be  the  bay ; 
The  field  thou  bast  won,  by  you  bright  god 


&m 


Life  ne'er  exulted  in  so  rich  s  prije 
As  Burnet,  lovely  &om  bcr  native  skies; 
Hor  envious  death  so  triumph'd  in  a  blow, 
Aa  that  which  laid  tli'accomp  bailed  Buniet  low. 
Thy  form  uid  mind,  sweet  maid,  can  I  foiget  ? 
In  richest  ore  the  brightest  jewel  set  I 
In  thee,  high  Heaven  above  was  truest  shown. 
As  by  his  noblest  work  the  Godhead  best  is 


Princes,  whose  cumb'toas  pride 
worth. 
Shall  venal  lays  their  pomj>ou 
And  thou,  sweet  escelleuce!  ftirai 


We  saw  thee  shine  m  yonth  i 
Aud  virtue's  bght,  that 

But,  like  tlie  sun  eclips'd  a 
,  Tliuu  lefi'st  as  darkling  i 


id  beauty's  pride. 


The  wind  blew  hollow  frae  the  hills. 
By  flls  the  auu's  departing  beua 

Look'd  on  tlie  Ming  jellow  woods 
'lliat  wav'd  o'er  £i|iar's  winding  sti 
;gysteep,a'     ' 


j^en  with  yea 


Into 


His 


it  bewaii'd  hi 


leikle  m 


IS  mould'ritig  down  with 


I  trembling  harp, 

lie  winds,  lamenting  thro'  th^r  CHvea, 
To  echo  bore  the  notes  alang. 
Ye  scattcr'd  birds  that  feintly  es 
"  ues  of  the  ve      ' 


ne' 


al^iref 


rsof  theag 


tn  glad  and  gay, 
n  all  revolving  time 


Can  gUdue 
am  a  bending  aged  tree. 
That  long  lias  stood  tlia  ■ 


loX'OOgIc 


And 

ni;  kst  hold  of  ear 

h  is  gane : 

Naelea 

f  o'  mine  shall  greet  the  spring, 

Nae 

But  In 

torm. 

And 

Chers  plant  them  h 

mytooni. 

rrewf 

n  sae  mony  chanitef 

ii'  jeara. 

Oue 

BroKni 

I  Band 

T  in  the  ways  of  m 

Alik 

unkuo^Lmrandm 

Unheard,  nnpicied,"  unrelie 

ed. 

Ibea 

ralauemytadeo'csre. 

Fortdl 

nt,  loiv,  on  beds  of 

dust. 

liea 

that  would  mj  Bor 

rows  share. 

And  last  (the  sum  of  a' my 

e"^''-^ 

THIRD  EPISTLE  TO  MR.  GRAHAM. 

lints 


On  forward 
Avaks  thy  lat 


ice,  my  harp  I 
id  wild  despauri 
loiiud  thy  latest  lay — 


poverty's  li 


ITiicli  mi^s,  obscure,  involved  me  ronnd ; 
Though  oft  I  turn'd  the  wiatfiil  eye, 

Nse  ray  of  finne  was  to  be  found : 
Thon  fouiid'st  me  like  the  morning  ana, 

llint  melts  the  fogs  in  limpid  air. 
The  friendless  bard  and  rustic  song 

Became  abke  thy  fostering  cote. 
Ohl  Khy  has  worth  so  short  a  date? 

■While  vilLuna  ripen  grey  with  lime; 
Must  thou,  the  noble,  gen'rons,  great. 

Fall  in  bold  manhood's  hardy  prime  t 
UTiy  did  I  Uve  to  see  tliat  day? 

A  day  to  me  so  full  of  noe!— 
Oh!  had  I  met  the  mortal  shaft 

■Which  laid  my  benefactor  low  I 
The  bridegroom  may  tmsct  the  bride. 

Was  made  his  wedded  wife  yestreeni 
The  monarch  may  forget  the  crown 

That  on  his  heed  an  hour  has  been; 
The  mother  may  forget  the  chQd 

aiiat  smdes  sae  sweetly  on  her  koeei 
But  111  remember  thee,  Gkncairn, 

And  a'  that  thou  hast  done  for  me  I " 


Thou,  who  thy  honour  as  thy  God  rerer'af. 
Who,  save  thy    mind's    reproach,  nought 
earthly  fesr'st. 

The  tearful  tribute  of  a  broken  heart. 
Tlie  friend  tbou>diied'6t,I,the  patron, loT'd: 
His  worth,  his  honour,  all  the  worid  approv'ife 
W'ell  mourn  till  we  too  go  as  he  has  gone. 
And  tread  the  d^-eary  path  to  that  dark 
world  uukiiowa. 


![\}iil  £fi-Ak  k  Ml  firaljimr, 


About  to  b^  a  pass  for  leave  to  beg  : 
Dull,  listless,  tess'd,  dejected,  and  deprest, 
(Nature  is  adverse  to  a  cripple's  rest) ; 
Will  generous  Graliam  list  to  his  Poefs 
wail?  [talel, 

(It  soothes  poor  misery,  hearkening  to  her 

eurvey'd,  [trade  ? 

And  doubly  curse    the    Inckkss    rhyming . 
Thou,  Nature,  partial  Nature  !  I  arraign ; 
Of  thy  ciqiriee  maternal  1  complain. 
The  lion  and  the  bull  thy  care  have  found. 
One  shakes  the  foreali,  and  one  spurns  the 

ground: 
Thou  (prst  the  ass  his  hide,  the  snail  hii 

shell,  [cell ; 

Th'  «iiveuomM  wasp,  victorious,  guarda  his 
Tby  minion,  kings,  defend,  coulrol,  devour. 
In  all  th'  omnipotence  of  rule  and  power] 
Poses  and  statesmen,  subtile  wiles  insure; 
The  cit  and  polecat  stink,  and  are  secure ; 
Toads  w^  ilieir  poison,  doctors  with  their 

drug,  [snug; 

The  priest  and  hedgehog  in  their  robes  ate 

Her  tongue  and  eyes,  ber  dreaded  spear  and 

To  thy  poor,  fenceless,  naked  child — the 

A  thing  nnteachable  in  world's  skill. 
And  h^f  an  idiot,  too,  more  helpless  still ; 
No  heels  to  bear  him  from  the  op'uing  dun; 
No  claws  to  i^g,  his  bated  sight  to  shun ; 
No  horns,  but  those  by  luckless   Hymea 

And  those,  slas  1  not  AmaJthea's  horn ; 
No  nerves  olfecfry.  Mammon's  trusty  cut 
Clad  in  rich  dulness'  comfortable  fur  j — 


I  „  Google 


BCRNS-S  POETICAL  WORKS. 

{FW,  like  the  SQn«l 


His  Iwart  b;  cineeleas  santon  malice  imuig, 
By  blookhead's  dBtiog  inco  madness  stung ; 
His  Bell-miii  bays,  tlian  life  itself  more  dear, 

must  wear:  [strife, 

Foil'd,  bleeding,  tortnr'a.  in  the  Bnequal 
The  hapless  poet  floundera  on  through  hfe ; 
Till  ileil  each  hope  that  once  his  bosom  lir'd. 
And  fled  each  muse    that    glnhous    once 


Low  sunk  in  squalid,  unprotci 

He  heeda  or  feela  no  men 

critic's  tage  I 
So,  by  some  hedge,  tho  genei 


For  hslt-slarv'd  snarling 

lies  senseless  of  each  tugging  hitch's  son, 

Ob  dulnes! !  portion  of  tlie  truly  blest ! 
Calm  shelter'd  haven  of  eternal  resi;  1 
lliy  sous  ne'er  madden  in  the  fierce  extreme) 
Of  fortune's  polar  frost  or  tonid  beams. 
If  mantlmg  liigli  she  fills  the  golden  cup, 
With  sober  a^ish  ease  they  sip  it  up : 
Conscious  the  houuteona  meed   they  irdi 

They  only  ivonder  "some  folks"  do  not  storre. 
The  grave  sage  bera  thus  easj  picks  his  frog. 
And  flunks  the  m^laid  a  and  worthless  dog. 
When  disappointment  snaps  the  clue  of  boj^e. 
And  thro'  disast'rous  night  they  darkhng 


So,  heavy,  passive  to  the  tempest's  shocka, 
Strong  ou  the  sign-post  stands  the  stupid  oi. 
Not  so  the  idle  muses'  Tnad-oap  tram, 
Kot  such  the  uorkinga  of  theu  moou-struclL 

brain; 
Tn  equanimity  Ihcy  never  dwell, 
By  turns  in  suaiiug  heav'n,  or  vaulted  hell. 
I  dread  thee  ftte,  r? lentleas  and  severe. 
With  all  fl  poet's,  husband's  ftther's  fear  f 
Already  one  strong  hold  of  hope  ia  lost, 
GleucairD,  the  truly  noble,  lies  in  dust ; 


Oh  !  hear  my  ardent,  grateful,  selfish,  pray'r! — 
Fintty,  my  other  stiy,  long  bless  and  apara ! 
Thro'  a  long  Ufe  bis  hopes  and  wishes  crown ; 
And  bright  in  cloudless  skies  hia  sun  go 


With  many  a  filial  tear  circling  the  lied 

/Eiittli  fipistlE  In  Til  (frill  iti, 

or  FIHTKT  OS  EECEIViaO  A  riluUK.  (26S) 

1  CALL  no  goddess  to  inspire  my  atriins, 
A  tabled  muM  may  suit  a  hard  that  feigns; 
Irlend  of  my  life  I  my  ardent  spirit  burns. 
And  all  Che  tribute  of  my  heart  returns. 
For  boons  accotded,  goodness  ever  new. 
The  gift  still  dearer,  as  the  giver,  you. 
Thou  orb  of  day  I  thou  other  paler  bgbt ! 
And  all  ye  many  tparkliug  stars  of  nigbt ; 
If  ai^lit  that  giver  from  my  mind  eflaci^ 
It  I  tlmt  giver's  bounty  e'er  disgrace ; 
llien  roll  to  me.alaiig  your naiidering  aphere^ 
Only  to  number  out  a  villaiu'a  years  I 

IllE  3\ig!ita  nf  lUnmsir, 


While  Europe's  eye  it 


And  even  children  lisp  the  High' 

Amid  this  mighty  fuss  just  let  i 

The  Bights  of  Woman  merit  sou 

First,  in  the  sexes'  intermixed  cc 

One  sscred  Bight  of  Woman  is 

The  tender  flouer  that  lifts  its  heao,  eiate. 

Helpless,  must  fall  before  the  blasts  of  fate, 

gunk  on  the  earth,  deliic'd  its  lovely  form, 

Uidess    yout   slieltM  ward  th'    impendii^ 


protectioiu 


Our 


;cond  right — but    needless   here,  i 


To  keep  that  right  uiviolate'a  the  fashion ; 
I'lach  man  of  sense  has  it  so  full  before  him. 
He'd  die  before  he'd  wrong  it — 'tis  decorum. 
There  was.  indeed,  in  far  less  poliah'd  days, 
A  time,  when  rough  rude  man  had  nai^hty 

ways; 
Would  snagger,  swear,  get  dnmk,  kick  up  a 

Nay  even  thus  invade  a  lady's  quiet. 


Ho,t,db,  Google 


TO  ME.  M4SWELL. 


Not,  thoni  our  stoMl    tlieae  Gothic  tiracs 

ore  fled ;  [bred— 

Now,  well-bred  men — nai  jou  ste  all  well 

Most  justly  tbint  {and  we  are  much 


Toe  Bight  tl 

dearest,  [..i^arBi 

That  right  to  Bntteting  female  hearts  t 

Which  even  the  lUghts  of  Kings  in  k 

Most  humbly  own — 'tis  dear,  dear  adniir 
In  that  blest  sphere  alone  we  live  and  mov 
There  taste  that  life  of  life— immottal  love. 
Smiles,  glances,  siglis,  tears,  fits,  fliitatioi 


tilirriq— a  pfmaiiifnt. 

!,  CaledHniB,  thy  wild  heaths  among, 
,  famed  for  martial  deed  and  sacred  song 
thee  I  turn  with  swimming  eyes ! 
Where  is  that  soul  of  freedom  fled  ? 
,    Immingled  with  the  miglity  dead  !         [lies  I  . 
Beneath  (he  hallow'd  turf  where  WaUaeo 
Hear  it  not,  Wallace,  ui  thy  bed  of  death  I 
Ye  babbling  winds,  in   " 


;    Nor 


re  the  I 


Islhia  ihe  power  in  freedom's  wai. 
That  wont  to  bid  the  battle  rage? 


a  Wsinn. 

As  I  stood  liy  yon  roofless  tower  (270), 

Where  the  wa'-flower  scents  the  dewy  a 
Where  th'  owlet  mourns  in  her  ivy  bower. 

And  tells  the  midnight  moon  her  care ; 
The  winds  were  laid,  (he  air  was  still, 

Tas  stars  they  shot  alang  the  sky ; 
The  fox  wai  howling  aa  Ilie  hill. 

To  the  dittant-echoing  glens  reply. 
The  Mteam,  adown  its  haaelly  path. 


Waaru 


Whose  distant  ro 


Health,  aye  unsour'd  by  care  or  grie 
lospir'd,  I  tuin'd  Fate's  sybil  leaf 
This  natal  m — 


IB  Nitli, 
seOi  and  tn'a. 
:h  wag  streaming  forth 


!e  thy  hi 


This  day  thon  meles'st  three  score  eleien 
lid  I  can  tell  that  bounteous  Heaven 
[Tie  second  sight,  ye  Leu,  is  Mven 

n  thee  a  tack  o'  seven  times  seven 
Will  yet  bestow  it. 


If  en 


Nine  miles  an  hour. 


Might  roLs'd  the  slumb'rin? 

But  oh!  it  was  a  tale  of  woe, 

As  ««er  met  a  Briton's  ear. 


But  for  thy  friends,  and  they  are  mony, 

couthie  fortune,  kmd  uid  canni^ 

In  social  glee, 
lornings  hlythe  and  e'enings  fiinny, 

^eel,  anld  bu'kie !     Lord  he  near  ye* 

;hen  the  deil  he  dauma  ateet  ye : 

Your  friends  aye  lov^  yoat  faes  aye  fear  ye. 


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BUESS'S  POETICAL  WORKS. 


fin  fsshxsl  ^ntni.  «7i) 

Hail  Poeaie !  thou  Nymph  reserv'd ! 
In  fhaae  o'  thee,  »hat  croads  hoe  sweiy 

'Mang  heaps  o'  clavera ; 
And  och !  owre  aft  thy  joes  hae  ttacv'd. 

Mid  a'  thy  bvoura  l 
Say,  Xaaaie,  why  thy 
While  kiid,  the  tnim 


rain  araane, 
.  3  heroic  ching. 
skelp  alaiig 


IS  trieil  Che  ahepherd-eai 
But  wi'  niiscatrii^e? 
In  Hornet's  craft  Jock  Milton  thrive: 
Eschylua'  pen  WiU  Shakspeare  drives 
Wee  Pope,  the  kourlin,  'till  him  tives 

lloratianfanie; 
Id  %  gveet  eong,  Uarhaiild,  aiirvivei 

But  thee,  Theocritiia,  wha  matelies  ? 
Th^'re  no  herd's  ballata,  Mato's  eati 


And  wi'  the  fiir  ftm'd  Greei 

Yes!  there  is  aoe;  a  Scotti 
There's  aiie ;  eorae  fonit,  h 
lliouiieednajoukbehlntl 


The  teeth  o' 


nay  gii 


Bm  thou 


IV  Taiili 


Thou  p^ta  auld  natui^  to  the  ui 
lu  thy  ewtct  Caledonian  hncs; 
Nae  gowden  stream  thro'  myrtles 

Where  Fliilomel, 
While  n^htly  breezes  sweep  the  <ii 


Hers 


ill  tell! 


la  goweny  glens  thy  bumie  strays. 
Where  honnie  lasses  hieacli  their  daes; 
Ot  trots  by  haieHy  shaws  and  btaes, 

Wi'  ha u'l horns  jo'ey. 
Where  bhtckbirds  join  the  sliepliecd's  lays 

At  close  o'  day. 
Thy  rural  loves  ore  nature's  sel' ; 


Nae  hon 


swell; 


See  aged  Wintet,  'mid  hia  surly  teiau, 
It  thy  biythe  ciunl  dears  his  fur row'd  brow. 
*o  in  lone  Poverty's  dominion  drear, 

Sits  meek  Content  with  U|;ht  uuanxiono 
heart,  [part. 

Welcomes  the  rapid  moments,  bids  them 
>'or  asks  it  they  bring   ought  to  hope  or 


I  thank 
ITiou 

thee.  Author  of  this  open 
whose  bright  sun  now 

ngdayi 
gJds   yon 

Bich 
What 

s  denied,  tliy  boon 
wealth  could  neve 

wospii 
give 

Toi"=^ke 

Yet  come,  Ihon  child  of  po 

The  luite  high  Heaven  be 

with  thee  I'll  siiare. 

tl^ed 

dcare. 

Heard  ye  o'  the  tree  o'  France, 

kround  it  a'  ilie  patriots  dance, 
Weel  Europe  kens  the  fiune  o't. 

t  stands  where  ance  the  Bastile  stood, 
A  prison  budt  by  kings,  man, 

Vhcn  Suiieratition's  hellish  brood 
Kept  France  in  leading  strings,  man. 


o"  tliis  t 


e  there  grows  sic  fruit. 


It  raises  moti  oboon  the  bruti 


's  greater  than  a  lord, 
wV  the  beggar  shares  a 


his  fruit  is  worth  a'  Afric's  wealth, 

0  gic  the  sweetest  blush  o'  health, 
And  mak  us  a'  content,  man. 

;  clears  the  een,  it  cheers  the  heart, 
Itlsks  high  and  low  ^id  friends,  man ; 

jid  lis  wha  ads  the  traitor's  part. 
It  tu  perdition  sends,  man. 


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miMC'AN    GRAY 


yipg-tme   deaf  aa  AQsa  c^ay. 


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Bnr  Virtue  Biter'd  it  "i*  core. 
And  now  she  sees  wi'  pride,  man 

How  vreel  it  buds  and  blossoms  iliere. 
Its  htaocliea  spreading  wide,  mail, 

But  ciraoua  folk  ste  hete  to  see 

MOS 
wn. 

DY.                                                     1 

Syne  let  ua  pray,  anld  England  mar 
Sure  plant  thia  fat-famed  tree,  mans 

And  blythe  we'll  sii.g,  and  hail  the  dv 
That  gave  us  liberty,  man. 

'J^  »wk«  0-  Virtue  llitive,  man  i 
The  conrtly  vermiu'a  hnimed  t\ie  tree, 

And  Krai  to  see  it  thtiie,  man, 
Kii^  Loui'  thoaj;lit  to  cut  it  down, 

When  it  was  unco'  suia'.  man ; 
For  thia  the  watclimau  cracked  his  cro 

Cut  aff  hi!  bead  and  a',  man. 

te  iPtncral  Diiraauri!!. 

A   PARODY   ON    BOEIN   ADAIB.  (273) 

You're  welcome  to  Despots,  Duniourier 
You're  irelcome  to  DesjyMs,  Dumuurier. 
How  Joea  Dampiere  do  ? 

And  wislied  they'd  been  at  hun 
For  Fteedom,  standiog  by  the  tret 

She  satii;  a  soii^  n'  liberty, 

Wbicii  pleased  tbeui  ane  and  a', 

By  fatv  inspired,  the  uew-honi  rue 
Soon  drew  the  KTengio^  steel,  n 

Kie  hirelings  ran— her  foes  gied  t 
And  bauged  the  despot  weel,  mi 

Let  Britain  boatt  her  liardy  osfc, 

Anid  Britain  aiiCE  couM  crock  her 


Why  did  Ihey  not  come  along  wiCh  yoo, 

DumooTiet? 
I  irill  fight  France  with  you,  Dumonrier; 
I  will  light  IVince  with  you'; 

B;  my  soul  111  dance  a  dance  with  701^ 

Uiimouriec. 
Tlien  let  us  fight  about,  Dumourier ; 


IS  tight . 


ni'd,  no  doubt — ^CumonrieY. 


lit  deplores  that  bapleas  triendf 


We  kbour  soon,  we  labour  late. 

To  feed  the  tided  knave,  man  j 

And  a!  the  comfurt  we're  to  get, 

ffiOMiJlI 

Ib  that  ayout  the  grave,  man. 

OH  A  UDY  J.«En  f  oa  uz^  CAPKTCF.   (275) 

Wi' plenty  0' sic  trees,  I  trow, 

ItoBT  cold  is  that  bosom  which  My  once 

The  warld  would  live  in  peace,  man; 

fit'd. 

The  sword  would  help  to  mak  a  plough. 

How  pale  is  that  cheek  where  the  rouga 

The  din  »•  war  wad  cease,  roan. 

lately  glisten'd!                             [tifed. 

like  brethren  in  a  common  ciuse, 

How  Mlent  that  tongue  which  the  eeboea  oft 

We'd  on  each  other  smile,  man; 

How  dull  ia  that  ear  which  to  flattery  «i 

And  equal  rights  and  equal  h«i 

Ksleu-dl 

Wad  glailden  every  isle,  man. 

K  sorrow  and  ansnish  Ihcir  eiit  await. 

Wae  worth  the  loon  wha  WHdna  eat 

From  friendship    and    dearest    affecHoa 

Sic  whalesome,  dainty  cheer,  man ; 

remov'd; 

I'd  gie  my  shoon  frae  a3  my  leet. 

How  doubiy  severer.  Eliza,  thy  Me,     [lov'iL 

To  taile  sic  fruit,  I  i-aeat,  men. 

Thou  diedat  unwept,  aa  thou  lived'tt  uif 

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BUENS'S  POETICAL  W0EK8. 


Well  EMTi*  through  the  gstden  for  each 


We'll  sciilptuta  the  marhle,  we'll  measme 
llieluy; 
Here  Vanity  strnms  on  lier  idiot  lyre  ; 
latere  keen  iuiti^imoH  eIihQ  durt   oa  liei 

Whkh  siiunlin'  conlPmpC  sheQ  redeem 


V/ma  Miy'ol  wisdonl 
Waul  unlj  of  j^odi 


Sfiiik  km  (Esnpns  tn  Mam. 

Piiou  tlinie  drear  aolitudoi  and  frowsy  cells, 
'Where  iiitiiinv  with  sad  repentance  divcUij ; 
■Where  lundiej^  make  Oie  jualuus  portal  fast, 
And  deal  from  iron  handft  the  span  repast, 
IVlieie  Etiuuit  'preatices.  yet  young  in  sin. 
Blush  at  the  curious  stranger  peeping  in ; 
Where  struiopets,  rehcs  of  theilrunkearoaT, 
Besalve  to  drink,  uay,  halt  to  whore  no 

Where  tijiy  thieves  not  destin'd  yet  to  swing. 
Bat  hemp  for  oihera,  riper  tor  the  string : 
I^m  these  dire  scenes  ray  wretched  lioes 


To  tell  Maria  her  Eaopus"  fate. 

-Aha!  I  feel  1  am  no  actor  here ! 

■Hs  real  haugme 

Prepare,  Maria, ; 

W^ill  turu  thy  very  rouge  t 


bo  deadly  pale ; 
VYUi  maiie  my  aiur,  luo'  erat  from  gipay 

poU'd, 
By  harher  wo^•en,  and  by  harber  aold. 
Though  twisted  smooth  with  Harry'i  nicest 

like  hoMy  bristles  to  erect  and  stare. 

1  itul  in  Hamlet,  iu  Othello'  rou  -, 


al  from  me  Mari 


i  eye. 


Blest  ttighlmd  honuel  1  ooca  my  proudest 

Now  prouder  still,  Maria's  temples  press, 
I  see  her  ware  thy  towering  plumes  afar, 
And  call  eai*  coseomh  to  tlie  wordy  war ; 
I  see  her  feee  the  first  nf  Ireland's  sons  (277). 
And  even  out-Irish  his  Hibernian  bronie; 
The  crafty  colonel  (27S)  leaves  the  tartaned 


liu< 
i'ot  OtlH 
The  hopeful  youtli.  in  Scoi 


a  hero  ahines 


I  alley  skulks, 
than  Woolwich 
[stan 


ours  his  vengeance  in  the  biiruingtin 
^htisten'd  thus  Maria's  lyre  diviiit^ 


uottey,  foundling    fencie 
irkhousci  ah,  that  soujii 


And  Venoin'd  Giiuiies  litter'd  heretofore. 
Why  Lonsdale  thus,  thy  wrath  ou  ragn 


Tliou  tnow'st  tlie  vutues  cannot  hate  thee 
ices  also,  must  they  club  that  ciir«P 
Lie  thy  g^iilt's  supreme  enough  for  ill? 


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THE  VOWELS. 

Ai  tbati  at  all  mankind  the  Be^  anfiirh. 
Who  on  raj  fnir  oue  saare's  vengeance  hurl; 
Who  colls  chee,  pert,  affected,  vain  csMoelte, 
'  -"  ■n  folly,  a- ■■  - '-• -~ -^-^ 


Who  aa;s  that  fool  alone  is  not  thy  due, 
And  quntes  thy  treacheriea  to  prove  it  t 
Our  force  uulted  on  thy  foes  we'll  turn 
And  date  the  nar  with  all  of  woman  boi 
For  who  ca'i  irrite  and  speak  as  thou  an 
My  periods  tliat  d^yphering  defy, 
Aud  thy  still  uiatelileaa  tougue  that  conq 
sU  reply. 


How  can  ye  d 


Tes,  pniir,  ve  iiarlili 
And  !0'>i>iB  tlie  \' 
The  ilai.  of  Wg 


Sprint,  gsy  in  thy 
je  floirta,  with  all  your 

oiind  til'  uutinii:iy  tomb 
■a,  pour  (he  notei  otsoe ! 


^nipnimptn 


Old  Winter,  with  his  firosty  Tward, 
Thni  once  to  Jove  his  prayer  preferr'd— 
-  What  have  1  done  of  all  the  year. 
To  bear  this  hated  doom  severe  ? 
Sly  cheerless  stms  no  pleasure  know ; 
Night's  horriil  car  dra^,  dreary  slow; 
Thly  diamal  months  no  joys  are  crowning, 
But  Apleeny  £uglieh,  ban^jig,  drowning. 
Now,  Jove,  for  once  be  mighty  nvS, 
To  conntcrbeinnce  all  this  evil ; 
CHve  me,  B"d  I've  no  more  to  aay, 
Gtive  me  Maria's  natal  day  l 
tbut  brUliant  ^ft  shall  so  enrich  me, 
SiKiiig,  Bumuiei,  aaCnmn,  cannot  match  me 


OF    FINTRY.   (281) 


Hich  is  the  tribute  of  the  grateCid  miud. 
So  may  no  rnffian-fccling  in  thy  breast. 

Discordant  jar  thy  bDaom-cbonls  among; 
But  peace  attune  tliy  gentle  soul  to  rest, 

Or  pity'a  notes  in  luxury  of  tears. 

As  modest  want  the  tale  of  woe  reveals ; 
While  conscious  virtue  alt  the  strain  endears. 


re   ignorance    her    duik'niiig   vapour 

crnelty  directs  the  tbidi'ninj  blowsf 

1  a  time,  Su  A-be-ce  the  great, 

I  his  ped^^pe  powers  elate, 

MfHl  chair  of  state  resolves  to  mount, 

call  the  trembling  vowels  to  Account. 


First  enter'd  A,  s  ttrave,  broad,  solemn  wight 
But,  ah  I  detorm'd,  dishcmeat  to  the  sight  1 
His  twisted  head  look'd  backward  on  his  way. 
And  flagrant  from  the  scourge  he  grunted, ni/ 
B  stalk'd 


jostling  t 


St  face' 
lallhis 


That  ni 

Pale  he  surrenders  at  (he  tyrant's  throne; 
lire  Pedant  stifles  keen  the  Roman  sound 
Notallhis  mongrel  diphthongs  can  eom|>ound; 
And  next  the  title  following  dose  betund. 
He  to  the  nameless,  ghastly  wretch  assijpi'd 
The  cobweh'd  Gothic  dome  resounded,  Y  f 
In  sullen  veageance,  I,  disdain'd  reply : 
The  pedant  swung  his  felon  cmlgci  round. 
And   knock'd  the   groaiting  vonel  to   the 


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BUKSS'S  POETICAL  WOItKS. 


Bia    deaiesC  fcieud   and    bioilier   sc 

As  ttemWing  U  alcod  atatinj;  all  ajlw! 
llie  pedant  in  his  Ml  hi-  '   '  "■  '^  ■-'- 
Id  helpless  iiifeiils'  (ear. 
BapCiz'd  him  en,  and  1 


le  diri>'d  his 


Ahe  da;,  as  Death,  that  grnsome  carle 
Was  dtLviug  to  the  tither  wart" 
A  iviiitie-niajye,  motley  aquad, 
And  mony  a  gudC-bespotted  lad ; 
Black  ^^owDS  of  each  denomination. 
And  thieies  o!  Bier;  raiik  and  statbn. 
rrom  him  that  wean  the  star  and  gorti 
To  him  that  whitles  in  a  halter  : 
Ashamed  himael'  to  see  Ilie  otetches, 
He  mutlera,  glowtio'  at  the  bitches, 
"By  G— ,  m  not  ha  seen  behint  them. 
Nor  'maiig  the  spiritual  core  present  th 
'Without,  at  least,  ene  liouest  man. 
To  grace  this  d— -d  iufemal  dan." 
By  Adanihill  a  glance  ha  threw, 
"L —  God  I"  quoth  he,  "I  have  it  now, 


Thou  bast  also  kno 


ioweUt 


Blooming  in  the  sumiy  ray  : 
let  the  blast  sawp  o'er  Che  valley. 

See  it  prostrate  on  the  clay. 
Hear  the  wood-lark  charm  the  fore 


Hapleaa^ird 
Dearly  hougl 


a  prey  th 
4te  of  the  skica. 
:,  the  hidden  treasury 


Still  anxio 

s  to  aecure  jon 

partial  fayour. 

Aud  not  les 

aiiiious,  sure,  this  nighc,  than 

A  Proline, 

Epilogne,  or  som 

e  BHch  matter 

Twould  vai 

better; 

So  songht  a 

p  my  bill,  sud  I,  if  uothin- 

Poet,  roosted  nea 

7  the  skies. 

utious  eyes ; 

Said,    nothi 

g    Uke    his    wo 

ks    waa    ever 

And  last,  my  Prologue-liHsine 

as  slily  hinted. 

"lla'am,  let 

me  tell  you,"  quoth  my  man  of 

rhymes 

[times: 

"Iknoiv  yo 

r  bent— these  a 

■e  no  laughing 

Can    you-but  Miss,  I  <m 

I    ha.1  4 

Dissolve  iu 

iKlis— and  sentin 

eotal tears. 

With  laden 

breath,    and    a 

olenin-munded 

senteno 

, 

[Repentance; 

Rouse    from 

his    slugx'sh 

Imber^   fell 

Peiiit  Vengeance  as  he  takes  hj 

8  horrid  stand. 

S  brand. 

Calling  the 
laud?" 

o'er  a  guilty 

I    could    no 

more— askance 

the  crentnre 

eyeing. 

[cryi.«? 

D'ye  think. 

said  I,  this  face 

was  nmde  for 

111  langh,  t 

afs  poa-naym 

sbaUti 

And  ao,  your  servant !  gloomy  Master  Poet  I 
Fh™  as  luy  creed.  Sirs,  'tis  my  lis'd  heUef, 
lliat  Misery's  another  word  for  Gnef ; 
I  also  think — so  may  I  be  a  bride  I — 
Tliat  so  much  laughter,  so  mucb  life  enjoy'd. 

Still  under  bleak  Misfortune's  blasting  eye; 
Doom'd  to  that  sorest  task  of  man  alive — 
To  nii^ke  three  guineas  do  the  work  of  five : 
Laugh    in  Misforlune'B    face — the   behlam 

Say,  yuu'U  bo  merry,  tho'  yon  can't  be  rich. 
Thou  other  man  of  cate,  the  wretch  in  love 
Who  long  with  jiitish  arts  and    aire    haat 

Who,  as  the  boughs  all  tcmptmgly  project, 
Measut'sC  in  desperate  tliai^ht — a  rupe— 

thy  neck — 
"      jcliffo'echanga  the  deep, 

'd.  thou  stlly.moping  elf! 

0  despise  those  fruwna  now  so  terriic, 
e  a  kinder — that's  your  graud  specific 
up  all,  be  merry,  I  advise; 
we're  merry,  may  we  aCiU  be  wiae. 


Peerest  to  meditalf 
Iflngh  ' 


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THE  ELECnON. 


Tis   Friendship's    pledge,  my  youn?:,  fair 


Since  thon,  in  all  lliy  youth  and  charma 

Must  bid  the  world  adieu, 
(A  world  'sainst  peace  in  lonattmt  arm: 

To  join  the  friendly  few. 
Smce  thy  gay  morn  o(  life  D'ereast, 

Chill  cnme  the  tempest's  lower; 
(And  ne'tr  misfortune's  eastern  lilusC 

Did  nip  a  fairer  flower.) 


ha  in  a'  the  country  ronnd 
le  hest  deserres  to  fa'  tliat? 

niro'  Galloway  and  a'  that; 

ia  the  laird  or  helted  knigtt 


That 
Wha  Bees  Kerroughtree'B 


ee's  open  yi 


yett, 


And  has  a  doubt  of  a'  chat? 


Since  life's  gtgf  scenes  must  charm  no  more, 

Here's  Heron  yet  for  a'  f  hati 

Still  in-.ich  is  left  hdijud; 

Still  nohter  wealth  haat  thou  in  store— 

The  comforts  of  the  mmdl 

Tho'  wit  and  worth  hi  alher  sex. 

St-Mnry'alalecanahawthat; 

Wi'  dukes  and  lords  let  Selkirk  mit, 

And,  deareat  pft  of  heaven  below. 

And  weel  does  Selkwk  fa'  that 

Thine  friendshiii's  iraeat  heart. 

For  a'  that,  and  a'  that. 

Here's  Heron  yet  for  a' IhaH 

The  joys  relin'd  of  sense  and  taste. 

Withevery  muse  to  rove: 

Shall  be  tlie  man  for  a'  that. 

And  doubly  i.ere  ilie  poet  bleat, 

But  why  should  we  to  nobles  joutf 

lliese  joya  could  he  improve. 

And  is'C  against  the  law  that? 

For  wliy,  a  lord  may  be  a  gonk, 

^Vi-  ribbon,  star,  and  a'  that. 

aiites  tn  ilif  S|]a!l[  nf  Ilinmsnn, 

For  a-  that,  and  a'  that. 
Here's  Heron  yet  for  a- that! 

A  lord  may  be  a  lousy  loun. 

Wi' ribbon,  star,  and  a' that. 

While  -virEin  apriug,  by  Edei.'s  flood, 

A  beardless  boy  comes  o'er  the  hills. 

Unfolds  her  tender  mantle  green, 

Wi' nude's  purse  and  a' that; 

Or  pranka  the  aod  in  frolic  mood, 

But  we'll  hae  ane  frae  'miuig  oursels,. 
A  man  we  ten,  and  a'  tliat. 

Or  tunes  Eoliaa  attaujs  between: 

Willie  Summer  with  a  matron  grace 

For  s'  that,  and  a'  that. 

EetreatB  »  Oryburgh's  coolinf  shade, 

Here's  Heron  yet  for  a'  thalt 

let  oft,  de%hted.  atopa  to  trace 

For  we're  not  to  be  bought  an*  a 

The  progteas  of  the  spiky  blade: 

Like  naigs,  and  nowt,  and  a'  that 

Vihiie  Antumn,  henefactot  kind, 
By  Tweed  erects  his  aged  head. 

Then  let  us  driuk  the  Stewartry, 

Kerroughtree'B  laird,  audi'  tlmt, 
Our  representative  to  bo. 

For  weel  he's  worthy  a'  thai. 

Each  creature  on  his  bounty  fed: 

For  a'  that,  and  a'  that. 

While  maniac  Wnter  rages  o'er 

Here's  Heron  yet  tor  a'  thati 

The  lulls  whence  classic  Yarrow  flows. 

A  House  of  Commons  such  as  he. 

Eoiaing  the  turbid  torrent's  roar, 

Tliey  would  be  blest  that  saw  that 

Ot  sweeping,  wild,  a  waste  of  snowa: 

[ballad  second.] 

Bo  long,  aweet  Poet  of  the  yearl 

&!  einlinn. 

While  Scotia,  with  eiulling  tear. 

FY,  let  us  a'  to  Kirkcudbright, 

Proclauna  that  Thomson  was  her  son. 

For  there  will  be  biekerin'  there; 

For  iSIurray's  light-horse  are  to  muster. 

And  oh,  how  the  heroes  wHl  sweul 

Ho,t,db,  Google 


I9i 


BURNS'S   POETICAL  WORKS. 


Ajid  there  will  Ije  Muiray  coramaiider, 

like  brotHers  they'll  stBiid  by  ecch  other. 

Sue  knit  in  alliance  au'  sin. 
And  there  will  be  black  lippit  Johnnie  (23; 

The  tanguG  o'  the  trump  to  them  a'; 
Au'  he  get  ua  hell  for  his  haddin'. 

The  deil  gels  na  justice  iva'; 
And  then  will  he  Kempleton's  birkie, 

A  boy  no  see  black  at  the  bani:. 
But,  as  tor  his  fine  nabob  fortune, 

We'U  e'en  let  the  subject  ilane.  (23S) 
And  there  vill  be  Wigtoti'a  new  slierilT; 

Duue  Justice  fu'  branlie  has  sped, 
fihe'i^ottoi  the  heart  of  a  Busby, 

Bul^  Lord,  wliat's  become  o'  the  head? 
And  th^e  will  be  dudouesa  (387.1,  Eaqmri 

8ae  mighty  in  Catdouees'  eyes ; 
A  wi^C  tlist  nill  weather  daniuaiian. 

For  -the  tool  the  prey  will  despise. 
And  (here  n 

Newchrii 
Abjuring  their  democrat  t 

By  kissiiig  the  --  o'  a  i 


M  Douglas 


Whou 


oof  k 


But  we  winna  mention  Redcastle, 

The  body,  e'en  let  him  escupe  I 

He'd  venture  the  gallowa  for  siUer, 


To  say  in  dt.  Sti^bcn's  the  mam. 
And  (here  will  l>e  kds  o'  the  iiospel, 


Wha'sm. 
And  Uiete  i 

A  house. 
The  deil  aii< 

The  deil  i 


re  o'  Che  hlack  thau  the  hlue.; 
iU  he  folk  from  St.  Mary's, 


ill  gie  tt 


And  there  will  he  wealthy  youn^  Bjchard, 
Same  fortune  should  hing  by  the  neck ; 

For  prodigal,  thriftless,  bestowing. 
His  merit  liad  won  him  respect : 

And  (here  wi[  be  rich  hcother  nabobs, 
Tho*  nahohi  yet  meu  of  the  ti 


je  gleg  Colouet  Tarn  j 


Whose  honoi 
If  the  virtues  t 


It  be  sample  f< 


And  there  will  he  maiden  Kilkerraa, 

And  also  BarskimraHig's  piid  kuigb^ 
And  there  will  be  roarin'  Birtwhistle, 

Wha,  luikily,  roars  iu  Uia  right. 
And  there  toe  the  Niddesdale  harden. 

Will  muigle  the  Maswells  in  drones; 
Tei^h  Johnnie,  staunch  Geordie,  and  "jValie, 

That  griens  for  Che  Uahes  and  loavel; 
And  there  will  he  I/igau  Mac  SouBl), 

Bculdudd'ry  and  he  will  be  there. 
And  also  the  wild  Scot  of  G&Uaway, 

Sodgerin'  gunpowder  Bkir. 
Then  hey  tlie  chaste  inlereat  o'  Broi^ton, 

And  hey  for  the  blessings  '(wiU  bring  I 

may  send  Balma^hie  to  llie  Commooa, 

In  Sodoui  'twould  make  him  a  kmg  j 
nd  hey  for  the  sauL-tilied  Murtt?, 

Our  knd  who  wi'  cbapela  has  ator'd; 
He  fouudcF'd  his  horse  among  hariots, 

£ia  gied  the  auhl  naig  to  (be  Lord. 


[B* 


ti..] 


an  £mlM  Jirui  laiig. 

Tune — Buj/  bmem  besomi, 
Whjl.  will  buy  my  Iroggiii  (200), 
Brolvu  trade  o'  Bcoughton, 


Prae 


o'Dee; 


It's  though!  liie  gudes  were  Strom 
Buy  braw  ttoggin,  &e. 
Here's  the  worth  a'  Bronghtou  (292), 

Tmt  by  BalinBghie,  (2B31 

Buy  hraw  Iroggin,  &C 
Here's  an  honest  coiiscienc* 


Hosted  by  Google 


ON  TJJE  DEATH  OP  A  FAVOUBITE  CHILD. 


A'  tbe  nele  o'  lead. 

Buf  braw  ttoggin,  & 
Here's  K  little  n'sdaet 

Buitcl?^s  ficmp  u'  itLitlij 
Pawu'd  in  1  ^n  shop 
QuencLiuir  holj  droiith. 

Buy  braw  ttoggin.  & 


The  raest,  an  Buld  crab-sppls  (393) 
Botten  >t  the  core. 

Buy  braw  trcg^ii,  &o. 

like  a.  biisard  gird, 
Pounnng  poor  Bedcastle 

Spmwlin'  as  a  tsed. 

Buy  braw  tropgin,  &(!, 
Here's  tlie  worth  and  wisdem 

CalliesUi^  can  Ixiaat ; 

The;  had  been  nearly  lost 

Buy  braw  ttoggiu,  &c 
Here  is  Murray's  frSj^neuti 

O'  the  ten  eommanda ; 
Gifted  by  black  Jock 

To  get  them  aS  hiq  hands. 


Horme's  tuniin'  cbapinan — 
He^  buy  a'  the  pack. 
Buy  braw  tropin 


Dame  Life,  tho'  fiction  out  may  trick  her, 
^  in  paste  gema  and  f^pery  deck  her; 
Oil !  Dickering,  feeble,  and  unsioker 
I've  found  her  still 
tvavering  like  the  wQlow-wjcker, 

Then  that  curst  carmagnole  *uld  Satai^ 
"'      hes  like  baudroua  hy  a  rattan, 
liuiu'saultOBetaciautou 
W  felon  ire ; 

He's  atf  hke  fire. 
Auld  Nick !  mU  Nick  I  it  is  na  fair, 
First  showing  ua  the  tempting  ware. 
Bright  wuiea  and  boanie  lasses  rare, 

O'  lieU's  dauia'd  wa^ 
man,  the  flie,  aft  biiises  by. 
And  aft  aa  cliance  he  comea  thee  nigh, 
'i'hy  auld  d»mii'd  elhow  yeuka  wi'  joy, 

Ah-eady  in  thy  fancy's  eye, 

in  heel'a-o'er-gowdie  I  in  he  gangi, 

I'hy  giruing  laugh  enjoys  his  paiigs 

As,  dangling  in  Che  u  lud,  he  hangs 
A  gihben'ii  lasaeL 
It  lest  yo«  tliiok  I  am  uncivil. 
I  plague  yon  witli  this  drsuuting  driret 


The  Lord  pr 


frae  the  deiil  I 


(296)  E 
Mit  honoured  colonel,  deep  1  feel 


Tbe  steep  Farnassua, 
Sutrounded  thus  by  bolus  pill. 

And  potion  glasses. 
Oh  what  a  canty  warld  were  it. 
Would  pain  and  care  and  sickness  spare  it ; 
Ami  fortune  favour  vorth  and  merU, 

(An  J  gye  a  rowth  roast  beef  and  claret ; 
Syne  nha  wad  starve  ?) 


soul  teaolv'd,  with  sou!  resign'd; 
Ptepar'd  Powers  proudest  fcown  to  brav«i 
■"  '  1  wilt  not  be,  nor  have  »  slave; 
le  aloue  whu  dost  revere, 
own  reproach  alone  liost  fear, 
foach  this  shrine,  and  worf hip  hei^ 


^K  iliB  Btal^  nf  a  /ammritt  (Cjiilii. 

(2S8) 
Oh  sweet  lie  thy  akep  in  the  land  of  the 

My  dear  little  angel,  for  ever ;         [gravfi 
For  ever— oh  no !  let  not  man  be  a  slave. 

His  hopes  from  existence  to  sever. 


Hoifdb,  Google 


196  BURNS'S  POETICAL  WORKS. 

Though  cold  be  the  chy  where  Iho 
Iq  the  dark"  silent  mansions  ot  s 


£f  e  the  spoiler  had  nipt  thee  In  hlosaom. 
When  than  shnuik'st  ftne  the  sconl  of  the 
Inud  winter  storm. 
And  uestled  thee  closfi  to  that  ho3om 
Oh  still  1  behold  thee,  all  losely  in  death, 

Beclmedou  thelapofthymotiier: 
When  the  teat  tnckled  bright,  when  She 
short  stilled  breath. 
Told  how  dear  ye  were  aye  to  each  other. 
My  chiW,  thou  art  gone  to  the  home  of 
thy  rest. 
Where  suffering  no  longer  can  harm  ye, 
Where  the  snnga  of  the  good,  where  the 

Through  an  endless  existence  shall  chatm 

IVhiie  lie,   thy  food  parent,  mast  sighing 

Through  the  dire  desert  regions  of  sorrow. 


FbieNd  of  the  Poet,  tried  and  leal, 
Wha,  wanting  thee,  might  beg  or  steal 
Alack  J  alack!  the  ineikledtel 


I  modestly  fu'  fain  wad  hint  it. 
That  one  ponndone,  I  sairly  want  it; 
If  wi'  the  hiasie  down  ye  sent  it. 

It  would  be  kind ; 
And  while  my  heart  wi'  Uf-blood  daunted, 

I'd  hear't  m  mind. 

80  may  the  anld  year  gang  out  moaning 
To  see  the  new  come  laden,  groaning, 
Wi'  donhht  plenty  o'er  the  loanin 

To  thee  and  thine ; 
Domestic  peace  and  comforts  crowning 

The  hale  desigiL 


Ye've  heard  this  while  how 
Au(i  by  fell  death  was  neail 
Gcim  Iwui  I  he  got  me  by  tl 


But  by  that  health,  I've  got  a  shore 
And  by  that  life,  I'm  promised  mau 
ily  hale  and  weel,  I'll  tak  n  care  o't 

Then  £itewell  folly,  hide  and 'hair  0' 


Cljt  Suinfll  MalTl's  ImEnf. 

)h,  meikle  do  I  rue,  fausc  love. 

Oh  sairly  do  I  rue, 
"  " "  e'er  I  heard  your  flattering  tongue 


That 


cheeks, 

Bcomfa'  meet 

^Vhen.  gin  the  truth  were  a'  but  kea^ 

Uer  hill's  been  warse  than  mine. 
Whene'er  my  Mia  thinks  on  ok, 
the  bed 


Aud  I  hae  li 
Now  I  mam 


My  mither,  sh 


Wi'l 


"Whene'i 
My  hi 


liking 


r  I  hear  my  fiither'a  foo^ 


ailjE  DtiiE  if  tJR  /aralhj. 

A   NEW   BALLAD.   (299) 

DiBE  WI9  the  hate  at  old  Harlaw, 

That  Scot  to  Scot  did  carry ; 
And  dire  the  discord  Lan^aide  saw. 

For  beauteous  hapless  JIary : 

Or  were  more  in  fury  seen,  Sir,        [job— 
Than  'Iwjxt  Hal  and  Boh  for  the  &moui 
Who  should  he  Faculty's  Dean,  ^. 

..,  Google 


OS  MR.  WMUEDO. 


But  pions  Bob,  'raid  leicniHs'a  iton, 

Comtaandmeut  ten  temeoibet'd. 
Tet  simple  Bob  the  victory  got. 

Which  shows  thai  Heaven  ceui  boil  the  pot 

niough  the  devil's iu  the  fire. 

Squire  Hal  besides  hod  in  thia  esse 

Pretenaions  rather  brassy, 
Fof  talents  to  deserve  a  place 

Am  qtudiflcationa  saucy ; 
So  theii  worships  of  the  ■'  Faculty  " 

Quite  aick  of  merit's  rudeness. 
Chose  one  who  should  nve  it  all,  d'ye  see, 

To  their  gratis  grace  and  goodaesa. 
As  once  on  nsgah  purg'd  was  tlie  si^t 

Of  a  Boa  of  Circnmrision, 
So  may  be.  on  this  Fis<fah  height. 


Nay,  Bobby's ! 


W  open'd  yet 


As  on  the  banks  o'  wandering  Nith, 
Ane  BcoLling  simmw-moni  1  strayed, 

Where  Unties  sang  and  lambkins  pley'd, 
■  sat  me  down  upon  a  craig, 

IVhen,  from  the  eddying  deep  below. 

Uprose  the  genius  of  the  stream. 
Uarl,  like  tiie  frowning  rook,  his  brow, 

And  troubled,  like  his  wintry  ivaie, 
Anii  deep,  as  sighs  the  boding  wind 

Amang  his  eaves,  the  sigh  he  gave — 
"  And  came  ye  here,  toy  son,"  lie  ciied, 

*'  To  wander  in  my  hirkeii  ahade  ? 


'Riete  was  a  time,  it's  nae  ling  syne. 
Ye  might  hae  seen  me  in  my  prid^ 
lien  a'  my  hanka  sae  bravely  saw 
Their  woody  picturea  in  my  ciile ; 
'hen  hanging  beech  and  apreadiiig  elm 


Wli 


"When  giinting, through  the  trees 
The  wee  white  cot  aboon  the  zni 

And  peacefu'  rose  its  ingle  reek. 
That  slowly  curled  up  the  hill. 


tinted  hi 

To  shii-er  in  the  blast  is  lane." 
"Alas!  "  said  I,  "whatmefn'  chance 

Has  twin'd  ye  o'  your  atately  trees? 
Has  laid  yout  rocky  hosom  hare  ? 

Has  atripp'd  the  deedits  o'  your  braes  t 
Was  it  the  hitter  eastern  bleit, 

That  scatMrs  blight  in  early  spring? 
Orwaa't  the  wil'fire  acorchcd  tlieir  boogii^ 

"Nae  eastlin  blast,"  the  sprite  replied; 

"  It  blew  na  bete  sae  fierce  and  fell. 
And  on  my  dry  and  wlialesome  hanks 

Nae  canker-worma  get  leave  to  dwell  i 
Man  I  cruel  man  !  "  the  genius  eigh'd — 

As  through  the  dilt'i  he  sank  him  down— 
"The  worni  that  gnaw'd  my  bonnie  trees. 

That  reptile  weara  a  ducal  crown." 


^a  IJf  Bah  of  ifiiirwisliartr.  (soi) 

How  shall  I  sing  Dmmhinrig'a  Giraeo — 
Discarded  remnant  of  a  race 

Onee  greol  in  martial  story* 
His  forbears'  vhtuea  all  contrasted — 
The  very  name  of  Douglas  blasted— 

His  that  inverted  gloiy. 
Hate,  envy,  oft  the  Douglaa  borej 
But  he  has  superadded  more, 

Ancl  sunk  them  in  contempt; 
Follies  and  Crimea  have  atain'd  tbe  nam^ 
But,  (iueeosberry,  thine  the  virgin  claim, 

From  ought  that's  good  eiempt 

CWITH  *  PREaE-SI   or  BOOKS.]  (302.) 

Ok,  could  I  give  thee  India'a  wealtb 

As  I  this  trifle  send. 
Because  thy  joy  in  both  would  be 

To  shire  them  with  a  fnend. 
But  golden  sands  did  never  grace 

The  Ueliconion  stream ; 
Then  take  what  gold  could  never  buy— 


it  Batd's  i 


Blest  be  M'Murdo  to  his  latest  day! 
rinkle  [utroived  by  the  hand  of  e 


.  Coogic 


BUESS'S  POETICAL  WO: 


Cd  aiiss  S!fs5I[  tman. 


And  with  Ihem  tal 
That  Fate  may  in  liet  fiurest  psge. 
With  ei^  kinilliest,  best  presage 
Of  fBture  bliss  enrol  tby  name ; 
With  tifttive  worthy  and  spotleas  iBjo^ 

Ot  ill— but  chief,  man's  felon  snare; 
All  blameless  jojs  on  earlh  we  find. 
And  all  the  treasures  of  the  mind — 
These  be  thy  ipiardian  and  renard; 
80  piBys  tby  faitUful  fiiead  the  Bard. 


Tone— /jiuercnuU's  lUel. 
Oh  Tibbie,  I  hae  seen  the  day 

Ya  wad  na  been  sse  aliy ; 
Tat  lack  o'  gear  ye  alighted  me. 
But,  trowtli,  I  care  iia  by. 
Yestreen  I  met  you  on  the  moor, 
Te  spall  na.  hut  gaed  by  like  stonrej 


Id™ 


a  bait  caie  I 


,y  think. 


That  ye  can  please  me  al  a  wink, 

Whene'er  je  hke  10  tjy. 
But  sorrow  tak  him  that's  aae  mean 
Altbo'  his  pouch  0'  coin  were  clean, 
Wlia  follows  ony  aaucy  quean. 

That  looks  sae  proud  and  l^h. 
Altbo'  a  bd  were  e'w  sa 


If  tb 


^t  Ihe  yellow  dirt, 
lur  head  another  airt, 
■er  hiio  fu'  dry. 


But,  Tibbie,  lass,  tak  my  advice. 
Your  daddie's  gear  maks  yon  aae  nice; 
The  deil  a  ane  wad  spier  your  pricti 

Were  ye  as  poor  as  I. 
There  lives  a  lass  in  yonder  park, 
I  would  na  gie  her  in  her  sark. 

Ye  need  na  look  sae  high. 


euther.  ju  my  plaidi^ 

py  would  I  be, 

ir  Montgomery's  Peggy, 


The  aharin't  with  Montgomery's  Peggy, 


Eannif  ^'tUV  SlisD".   (^"^1 

Tone— iii-"M  o'  Jlalquhiddtr. 


And  I'll  kiss  thee,  yet,  yet, 
Jly  boniiie  Peggy  Alison; 
.  cate  and  fear,  when  thou  ait  near, 
I  ever  nuir  defy  ilieio,  O  ; 
>ung  kings  upou  iheir  haiiael  throne 

hen  in  my  arms,  wi'  a'  thy  charms 


SfrE'5  tn  16n  Sialtlj.  mi;  Snnnq  tm, 

ToBE — Lnggan  Bum. 
Here's  to  thy  health,  my  bonnie  lass, 

Guid  night,  and  joy  be  ivi'  thee ; 
I'D  come  luie  mair  to  thy  bower-^ot. 

To  tell  thee  (hat  I  loe  thee : 


Hosted  by  Google 


JOHN  BARLEYCORN. 
ly  pretty  pinlt, 


I  ken  they  scorn  my  low  estale, 

But  that  doea  oerer  gn^eve  me ; 
But  I'm  as  free  as  any  he, 

Sma'  siller  wiU  relieve  me. 
I  eoaW  my  heiilth  my  Rreateat  wealt' 

Bae  ItHig  ia  I'll  enjoy  it ; 
m  fear  nae  KOnt,  I'll  We  nae  want, 

Aa  laug's  I  get  employment. 
But  da  off  tbwis  hue  feathers  fair. 

And  aye  until  ye  try  them : 
Ihtf  they  seem  fair,  atill  huve  a  care, 

Th^  may  prove  worse  llian  I  am. 
Bi^  at  twilit  night,  when  the  moon 

bright, 
My  dea.-,  Dl  come  and  see  thee ; 
For  the  man  that  lues  his  mistress  w 

Nae  travel  loaiiei  him  weary. 


TCTNB — Latt  limt  I  camt  o'er  l/ie  Msir 
TOONQ  Fegg!  htooms  our  honniest  lass. 

Her  blush  ia  lilie  the  morning, 
The  rosy  dawn,  the  spn"si"g  grasa. 

With  early  gama  ailominj: : 
Her  eyes  outshine  the  rnJiniit  beams 

That  ^Id  the  passing  aiiawer, 


Her  lips,  more  than  the  cherries  bright, 
A  richer  dye  has  graced  them ; 

They  chmu  th'  admiriog  gaset's  aght, 
jSjid  sweetly  tempt  to  taste  them : 

recout^Dg, 


The  poisou'd  tooth  to  fasten, 
fe  pow'rs  of  honour,  love  and  trutl^ 

From  e^'ry  ill  defend  her; 
nspire  the  Inghly-favout'd  youth. 


With  many  a  filial  hlossc 


§n^n  KHrlnirnrn. 

A   BALLAO.   (303) 

Three  kings  both  great  and  high ; 
ijid  they  iiae  swora  a  aolemu  oath 

John  Barleycorn  should  d^e. 
'hey  teok  a  plough  and  ploughed  hioL  dowD, 


"he  sultry  suns  of  summer  came. 
And  he  grew  thick  and  strong ; 

lis  head  weel  arm'd  wi'  jjointed  apH 
That  no  one  should  him  wrong. 


They've  taeo  a  weapon,  long  a 
And  cut  him  by  the  knee ! 

They  tied  him  fast  upon  a  carl 
Like  a  rogue  for  forgerie. 

They  lud  him  don 
And  cudgeli'd  h 

Iliey  hung  hira  h[ 


ihiahack. 


a  darksome  pit 
n  John  Barleyconv 


Ho,t,db,  Google 


pon  the  aoor 
t  life  app? Br'df 


i  POETICAL  WOIiKS. 

I  hae  been  biythe  wj'  cnmrailes  deal  i 
I  hae  beeii  joyfu'  gath'rin'  p 


For  be  crush 'd  hin 
And  the?  hae  taen  hi 


John  Barleycorn  woa  a  h( 

Of  noble  enterprise ; 
Forifyoudohuttaalehi 

Tnill  make  a  man  forget 

Twill  heighten  all  Ins  j 
Tnill  mate  the  widow's  i 

Tho' the  tear  were  in  h 
Then  let  as  toast  John  B 

Each  man  a  glass  in  ha 
And  may  his  great  postei 

Ne'et  fail  ia  old  Scmlai 


(till!  Kiga  n'  Satltij.  (Ms) 


Bwieaih  Che  niooi 
The  time  dew  by 


a  uuclouiled  light, 
li'  teiiHeas  heed, 


To  see  me  tbio'  Che  harley. 


The  aiy  was  blue, 
The  moon  wsa : 

Amang  the  ri|t;a 

X  loT'd  her  mos' 

I  kiss'd  her  owre  i 

Amang  the  rigs 


tight  good 
0' barley; 
-as  a'  my  ait 
sincerely; 


at  happy  ^lacf 


appy 


But  h'  t 

Tho'  three  tiiiiea  dniAI'd  fairly. 
That  hsppy  night  was  worth  them  a', 

Amang  the  rigs  o'  barley. 

Cent  rigs,  snd  barley  rijs, 

I'll  ne'er  forget  that  happy  night 


CljE  ^.^iaiiglmian. 

Tune— L'p  wi'  the  Ploiii/hman. 
The  ploughman  he's  a  bonnie  lad. 

His  nund  is  ever  true,  jo ; 
tlis  garters  knit  below  hia  knee. 
His  bonnet  it  is  blue,  jo. 
Tlien  up  wi"  my  piouglirann  lad. 

And  hey  my  merry  plonghraan  I 
Of  a'  the  trades  that  I  do  ken. 

Sly  ploughman  he  comes  hame  at  e'en. 
He's  afien  wat  and  sreary ; 


id  gae  to  hed,  n 


Iwilldi 
I  will  niak  my  ploiiglnnan's  bed. 

And  cheer  him  hte  and  early. 
I  hae  been  east,  I  hae  been  west, 

i  hae  been  at  Samt  Johnston ; 
Tlie  bonniest  sight  that  e'er  I  saw 

IVas  the  ploughman  laddie  danciii 

And  siller  bocklea  glancin' ; 


Sang  rQiiiimstll  in  tngiisi.  (3io) 

Tune—  1  had  a  hone,  1  had  hbb  mair. 
Joiv  nestling  vuids  and  slaught'iing  guns 

"he  moorcock  springs,  on  whuTing  wings, 
Amang  the  hloonung  heather : 


Ho,t,db,  Google 


WliEU   WILD  M^tiB  ^    DE  MJ  V    BL  ^--T     \l  \b   BL.W/N 
3^U_     djX  wrJu      1^  Himj    'ad      le  1 


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Ho,t,db,  Google 


Now  vtsiag  gnin,  wide  o'er  tha  pla 

DeligUta  the  weary  farmer ;  [night 

And  the  moon  ahiues  bright,  n'lien  1 1 —  ''' 

To  muse  tipaii  my  chanuer. 
The  partridge  lores  the  fruitful  felts ; 

The  plover  lovea  the  mountains ; 
The  woodcock  bauuta  (he  lonely  delU 

T^e  aoarms  hem  (he  fountains ; 
Thro'  lofty  grovea  tlie  cushat;  roves. 

The  path  of  man  to  slian  it ; 
The  hazel  bush  o'erhanga  the  thrush. 

The  Bpresduig  thorn  the  linneC 
Thus  er^  kind  their  plea' 


Some  social  joui.  and  leagues  combine : 

Avaunt,  »wbj  I  the  cruel  sway. 

The  spnrtBinan's  joj,  the  raurdVins  ray. 


iramins  swallow ; 


But  Peg;rr,  dear,  the  ev 

Thick  JUes  (he  sljimm    „ 
ITie  aky  is  blue,  the  fields  i^ , 

All  fading-green  and  yellow ; 
Come,  let  ns  stray  our  gladsome  way. 

And  view  the  charms  of  nature; 
The  mstling  cum,  the  fruited  Chora, 

And  every  happy  erealure. 
We'll  gently  walk,  and  9«ee(ly  talk, 

Till  the  silent  moon  shine  dearly ; 
m  grasp  thy  waist,  and,  fondly  preat, 


it  vernal  show'] 
Not  tuituma  to 
dear  can  be  as 


iirly: 


^nn  Wi\l  Slnssii  Jtlniiirtiiins.  Oil) 

TuHB — Yon  wild  moiis  iloiiHliiija. 
OK  wild  mossy  mountains  eae  lofty  and 

wide,  [Clyde, 

That  nurse  in  their  bosom  the  yontb  o'  the 
IVliete  the  grouse  lead  their  coveys  thro'  (he 

heather  to  feed, 
And  the  shepherd  tents  his  flock  as  he  pipes 


■Whert 


ieleadtl 


[strath, 
un  green,  narrow 
day  tans  I  rove, 


at  the  fiiirest,  altlio'  she  is  fair 


Lonr  of  glances,  and  Hushes 


anrofs;! 


iparklhig  e'e, 

And  the  heart  bea 

her  arms. 
Oh,  til 


ig  love  as  I'm  clasp'd  ui 
[charms  I 

And  the  heart  beating  love  as  i'm  dasp'd 

lassie's  all-conquering 


Not  Cowrie's  rich  vallies,  nor  Perth's  annnj 

shores, 
To  me  hae  tlie  cbarma  tf  jon  wild,  mosay 


ffiij  Slfinnit,  6.  (313) 

Tune— JWy  Nmmie,  O. 
Briitnd  yon  hills  where  Lugar  Hows, 

'Mang  moors  and  mosses  many,  O, 

le  wintry  sun  the  day  has  elos'd. 

And  ra  awa  to  Nannie.  0. 
The  westlin  wind  blaws  loud  and  shrill ; 

The  night's  bailh  uiitk  and  rainy,  O ; 
Bnt  I'll  get  my  plaid,  and  out  111  atea]. 

And  owie  the  hills  to  Nannie,  0. 


Ho,t,db,  Google 


Nae  aitfu'  uiles  to  win  ye,  O : 
May  ill  beili'  the  flatlering  tonjua 

That  wad  beguile  my  Nannie,  a 
Her  face  is  ftir.  lier  heart  is  true. 

The  op  ning  gowan,  wet  wi  dew, 
Nae  puree  is  than  Nannie,  O. 

A  conntry  lad  is  my  degree. 
And  few  there  he  thai  ken  me,  ( 

Bnt  what  earc  I  how  few  they  be  ? 
I'm  welcome  aye  to  Naiiiiie,  O. 

My  riches  a's  my  penny-fee, 


Our  auld  gnidnian  delights  to 

Hi9  fiheep  and  kye  thrive  be 

Bnt  I'm  as  blylhe  that  liauds 


uinie,  0. 
re  nas  by, 
sen' me,  O; 


Srttii  Sim  tjiE  fiasjirs,  (sis) 

Tvns—Green  grow  the  Sashes. 


The  warliy  race  may  riches  cliase. 
And  riches  aliJI  may  fly  them,  C 

And  tho'  at  last  they  catch  them 
Their  hearts  can  ne'er  enjoy  th 

But  gie  me  a  canny  hour  a 

My  arms  about  my  dear 

And  MTitriy  cares,  and  war 

r- 

For  you  sae  dance,  ye  siieer  at  th 
Ye're  nought  hut  senseless  assc 

The  wisest  man  the  warl'  a'er  saw 
He  dearly  lov'd  the  lasses,  0. 

Auld  Nature  swears,  the  lo 
Her  noblest  work  she  cla 

Her 'prentice  han' she  tried 
And  then  she  made  the 

elyde 
ssa^O 

No  churchman  i 


^-bellied  bottle'a 


The  peer  I  don't  envy,  I  give  him  his  bow  j 
But  a  ckh  of  good  fdlows,  like  those  tfiat 


t  see  you  The  Croi 


le  dt  with  hia 
it  waves  in  the 


There  a  big-bellied  bottle  still  ei 
The  wife  of  mj  bosom,  ahis !  sh 


I  fburid  that  old  Solomon  proves 


Then  fill  up  a  bumper  and  make  it  o'erflow, 

tvery  true  brother  of  the  compass  and 
quare  [care! 

B.  bi^-bcllicd  bottle  when  harass'd  with 


(Sn  Ctssnotk  SSanlis, 

TONE—i;-  he  be  a  liulchcy  neat  aad 
On  Cessnock  banlia  there  lives  a  laaa, 
dd  I  describe  her  shape  and  miei 
races  of  her  weel-faur'd  face, 
1  the  glaocin'  of  her  aparklui'  ee 

When  dey'-drops  twinkle  o'er  tlie  iawi 


Ho,t,db,  Google 


PEOM   THEE,   ELIZA. 


Bhe'a  stately  Hie  yon  yoathfnl  ash, 

TTiat  grows  the  cowslip  braes  between. 
And  sboots  its  head  above  each  bush ; 

And  ihe's  twa  glaonn'  sparklin'  een. 
Bbe's  spotless  as  the  AoVrin^  thom. 

With  floVrs  so  white,  and  leaves  so  green. 
When  ginrest  ia  the  dewy  morn ; 

And  she's  twa  glancin'  spatklio^  eeo. 
Her  looks  are  like  the  sportive  lamb 

When  flow'ry  May  adoi'ns  the  scene, 
That  wantons  round  its  bleating  dam ; 

And  she's  twa  glancin'  sparkba  een. 
Her  hah;  is  lilie  the  curling  mist 

That  shades  the  monniain'^iile  at  e'e 
TFbrai  Sow^-iGviving  rains  are  past ; 

And  she's  twa  glanan'  sparUiii'  een. 


And 


nd  mid  the  distant  mouBtain's  brow ; 
And  fibe'a  twa  glancin'  sparklin'  eeo. 


ming  tbmah 


Her  Toice  is  like  the  e\ 

That  sings  ill  Ceasnc , 

^Vbtle  his  mate  sits  nesilios  in  the  bush; 

And  she's  twa  gtanciii'  sparklm'  een. 
Her  lips  are  like  the  cherries  ripe 

That  sunny  walls  from  Boreas  screen — 
They  lempt  the  tasie  and  charm  the  sight; 

And  she's  twa  glancin'  sparklin'  een. 
Her  teeth  are  like  a  flock  of  sheep. 

With  Heeces  newly  waahen  cleaiv 


Yon  palace  and  yon  gardens  fine  I 
The  world  then  the  love  should  knon 
1  bear  ray  highland  lassie,  0. 
But  flckte  fortune  frowna  on  me. 
And  I  maun  cross  the  ragmg  sea ; 

111  love  ray  highland  lassie,  O. 
Altho'  thto'  foreign  dimes  I  range. 


For  her  III  trace  a  distant  shore. 
That  Indian  wealth  may  lustre  throT 
Around  my  highland  lassie,  O, 
£he  has  my  lieart,  she  has  my  ban  J, 
By  sacred  truth  mid  boaour's  baiid  I 
'Till  the  mortal  stroke  shall  by  me  lor 
I'm  thine,  my  highland  lassie,  O. 
Farewell  the  ulen  sae  bushy,  O! 
Farewell  the  plain  sae  nisliy,  U 1 
To  other  lands  1  now  must  go. 
To  sing  my  highland  laaaie,  t). 


■pnintH  (EtlfstiaL 

TvHE—Blue  Bonneto, 
celestial !  whose  prolectum 


Hec  breath  is  like  the  frs^anl  breeze 

lliat  gently  stirs  the  iilosaom'd  bean, 
THien  ^csbus  sinks  beneath  the  seas; 

And  she's  twa  glancin'  sparkhu'  een. 
But  if  s  not  her  air,  her  form,  her  face, 

TThi'  matching  beauty's  fabled  qneen. 
But  the  mind  that  shines  in  ev'ry  grac^ 

And  chiefly  in  her  sparklin'  een. 


itilE  Sigliknil  tsKU.  (315) 

TanE— The  Denks  dang  o'er  mg  Daddy  I 
NiB  gentle  dames,  tho'  e'er  sae  fair. 

Then:  titles  a'  ere  empty  show : 

Qie  me  my  highland  lassie,  O. 

Within  the  glen  sae  bushy,  O, 
Aboon  the  plains  sae  rusliy,  O, 
I  set  me  down  wi'  right  good  will, 
Ta  aing  my  tiighlaud  lassie,  O. 


Matie  the  gates  yon  waft  around  b« 

Soft  and  peaceful  as  her  breast. 
Breathing  in  the  breeze  ihat  fiins  her. 

Soothe  her  boaom  into  rest : 
Guardian  angel  I  oh  protect  her. 

When  in  distant  lands  1  roam; 
?o  realms  unknoun  wliile  fate  exiles  mc^ 

Alake  her  bosom  still  my  home. 


/rniii  tlitr,  M\%. 

VSB—Gilderoy,  or  Bosald. 


Hosted  by  Google 


But  boundless 
Between  mv 

Tht^  nevi 
My  hea 


BTIRNS'S  POETICAL  'WOEES. 


Farewell,  fcrewell,  Elijf 
The  meid  th&t  I  adar 

We  part  to  meet  no  i 
The  latest  thceb  that  le 

While  death  stands  \ 
TluiX  throb,  Elixa.  is  thy  pert. 

And  thiue  that  latest  sigh  1 


Tone — Johnn'/'i  srii 

AOAIN  rejoicing  natnre  sees 
Het  tohe  assame  its  verna! 

Her  leafy  locks  wave  in  the  fc 
AU  freshly  aleep'd  m  mort 


by. 


The  meriy  plou 

Wi'  joy  the 

But  life  to  mCj 


i  weary  ilream. 
IB  that  never  wau 

(he  water  skims, 


The  shepherd  steeks  his  faulilin<-  skp. 
And  owre  the  moorland  whijtlea  ihnll ; 

Wi'  wild,  unequal,  wand'ring  step, 
I  meet  him  on  the  dewy  bW, 

And  whiai  the  lark,  'tween  light  and  dart, 
BIythfl  waukena  by  the  dalsy^a  aide, 

And  mounts  and  sin^  on  QLtEering  wings, 
A  woe-wom  ghaist  I  heniewsrd  glide. 

Come,  Winter,  with  thine  angry  howl. 
And  raging  bend  the  naked  tree  ; 


I'll  luind  you  still,  tho'  far  awi'. 
Oft  have  I  met  your  social  band. 

And  spent  the  cheerful,  festivs  night ; 
Oft  hononr'd  with  supreme  eommuud. 

Presided  o'er  the  sons  of  light ; 
And  by  that  hieroglyphic  bright. 

Which  noue  but  craftsmen  ever  saw ! 
Strong  mem'ry  on  my  heart  shall  write 

Those  happy  scenes  when  bs  a\ra.' 
May  freedom,  harmony,  and  love 

Unite  yon  in  the  grand  design. 
Beneath  th'  Omniadent  eye  above. 

The  gloriona  Ardiileet  divine  1 
That  you  may  keep  th'  unerring  lin^ 

Still  rising  by  the  plummet's  Uw, 
1111  order  bright  completely  shine. 

Shall  he  my  pray'r  when  for  «wa'. 
And  you,  fcrewell  1  whose  merita  clam. 

Justly,  that  highest  hadge  to  wear  I 
Heav'n  bless  your  honour'd,  noble  name. 


To  hi 


Cit  Stats  H'  Salkrljiiiiili.  (316) 

Tune— rSe  JHrasJ  o'  Ballmhrnslt. 
The  Calrine  woods  were  yellow  seen. 
The  flowers  decay'd  on  CairiLie  lea, 
Nae  la/roek  sang  on  hillock  green. 


Fitceweel  the  Braei  o'  Bailochnjyle ! 
jiw  in  your  wintry  beds,  ye  flowers, 

Again  ye'll  aourish  fresh  and  ftiir ; 
fe  birdies  dumb,  in  with'rlng  bowera. 

Again  ye'll  charm  the  rocal  air. 

Shall  birdie  charm,  or  flow'ret  senile ; 
?areweel  the  bonnie  banks  of  Ayr, 
I^eweel,  fueweel !   sweet  Ballochm^  I 


Ho,t,db,  Google 


THE  BIEES  OF  ABEEFELDT, 


Shese 


ry  glen  Ihe  mavii 
mturt  list'iiiug 
t  where  preenwo 


■els  abiig : 


With  careless  step  I  onward  atra^'i 
My  heart  rejuiceil  in  nature's  ;o) 

When,  niasine  in  a  lonely  glade, 
A  mmden  fiut  I  cLauc'd  Co  spy ; 

Ilcr  look  OTIS  like  the  morning'g  ey 


Fur  is  the  mom  in  flow'ry  May, 

And  street  it  Dt^ht  in  autnmn  mild; 
When  loving  thro'  tbe  garden  gay. 

Or  wand'nng  in  Ihe  lonely  wild : 
But  noman,  nature's  dailiiig  chilil  I 

There  all  her  chums  slie  does  compile; 
Ev'n  there  her  other  works  are  foil'd 

By  tlie  bonnie  loss  o'  Ballochnijle. 


With  joy,  with  rapture,  I  would  toB ; 
And  nightly  to  my  husora  atraui 

The  bonnie  lass  0*  liaUochmyle  I 
Then  pride  m^t  climb  the  slipp'ry  steep, 

Wbi-je  fame  and  honours  lof  [y  alnnc ; 
A»d  thirst  of  gold  might  tempt  the  di:ep, 

Ur  downivatd  seek  tiie  liidiau  luLne ; 
Give  me  the  cot  hehjw  ilie  pine. 

To  tend  the  flocks,  or  till  the  soil. 


With  the  boffiiie  lass  o'  JBailochmyh 

SIlE  Slsmn  Eiglit  is  (Eaffitring 

(318) 
Tune— Kos/in  Casile. 

The  gloomy  night  is  gath'ring  fast, 
iMd  roars  the  wild  inconstant  lilast ; 
Yon  murky  eloud  is  foul  with  rain, 
1  see  it  dtiring  o'er  tlie  plain; 
'i'he  hunter  now  has  left  the  moor, 
Tlie  scatler-d  coveys  meet  secure; 
\Viiile  here  1  wander,  pest  «-iih  care. 
Along  the  lonely  banks  of  Ayr. 

KT  pbcLd,  a 
1  the  sc     ■■ 


■^  'ky. 


y  blood  Co  hear  it  ravB— ' 
k  upon  the  stormy  wave, 
e  many  a  danfter  I  must  dare. 
Far  from  Ihe  bonnie  hanks  of  Ay( 

-  JnrKing  billow's  roar, 

"Tis  not  that  fetal  deadly  shore ; 
Tho'  death  in  every  shape  app^^ar, 

retclied  have  no  more  to  fcEir ! 
Eut  round  my  heart  the  tics  ere  bounci. 
That  heart  cnmapieic'd  iiith  many  a  wound- 

e  bleed  a&esh,  those  ties  I  tell; 
To  leaie  the  bonny  banks  of  Ayr. 
Farevell  old  Coila's  hills  and  dales, 
iler  heathy  moors  and  uiading  valei ; 
The  scenes  wiiere  wretched  fancy  rDve% 
PuFBuina;  pait,  unhappy  loves ! 
Farewelt  my  frienda  1  farewell,  mv  fbes  t 
My  peace  wirh  these,  my  love  with  those— 
Tbe  bursting  tears  my  heart  declare ; 
Farewell  tlie  bonnie  baidis  of  Ayr ! 


ftljt  fflanks  n'  iann.  (sis) 

■v/'E—CaMonias  lIuM'i  Delight. 
Ye  banka  and  braes  o'  bonnie  Doon, 

:  chant,  ye  htlle  iiirds, 
;  weary  tu'  o'  care? 


Thou' 


o'  Ihe  flowering  I 
Thou  minds'st  me  o'  departed  jays. 

Departed— never  to  return  ! 
Aft  hae  I  roved  by  bonnie  Doon, 

"'o  aee  the  tbe  rose  and  woodbine  \i 


And  ill 


id  fondly  sae  did  1 


:  crystal  streamlet  plays ; 
I  spend  the  lightsome  dajB 
ks  of  Aber&ldy. 


,  J,  Google 


O'erhuiiK  wi'  frairrsni  spreaiiiiig  sliasa. 

The  birks  of  Aberfcldj. 
The  hoary  dilTs  ate  crown'd  wi'  flowers, 
White  o'er  tlie  Uims  the  biitnie  poiira. 


The  bitks  of  Aherfeldy. 
IiCC  fortime'a  |tif(B  at  random  dee, 
They  ne'er  shaU  draw  a  niah  frae  n 
Sapremely  blest  wi'  Inve  nrid  thee, 

la  the  bilks  of  flbeiEuldy. 


BUEKS'S  POETICAL  WOEKS. 

landa  from  off  my  hands, 
1  Sciitlaod, 

. — tliou  sunshine  brigh 
th(^  sky ! 


Wi'  unco  folk  I  WI 
I'm  fley^d  'twillra 


The  nights  are  l»n^  in 


Blaws  throit^'h  the  le 
But  if  ya  come  lliia 
Va  aulder  he  gin 


I  tn  JElam[  ^rf, 

ijosnn  to  marry  ytt, 
lehaim. 


Fabeweli,  ye  dunjreon 
Tae  wretch's  desiHiic 

Macpheraon'3  time  will  i 

On  yonder  gallowa-tre 

Beerantmgly,  sr- 


rb  and  strong, 
jelong 
tonly. 


imtin^lygaed  .._, 

Heplay'd  »  spring,  and  danc'd  it  round, 
Below  the  gailows-tree. 
Ob,wbat  is  death  but  parting  hieath?— 

Oa  many  a  bloody  }ilain 
I'redar'd  his  "  '  '    '■'■---■--- 


iK 


Umn  ICnng  a 

low  long  and  d 
When  i  am  fr 


ary  is  the  nijht 


B  Ucaltli  fa  llirin  IjiEi's  his. 

riert'l  a  health  lo  them  llmfi  laat. 
health  to  them  that's  swa, 
lealth  to  them  that's  awa; 


ilay  never  fruid  luck  lie 

It's  piid  to  be  hont 
It'a  gitid  to  support  Ct 
And  hide  by  the '    " 
Here'. 


health  to 


e,  the  chief  o'  tliechtD, 


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MT  PEGGY'S  FACE. 


Here*!  s  haittli  to  them  tliat's  ena. 
Here's  a  health  to  them  thit'a  iwa ;   [laddie. 
Here's  a  heaUh  to  Tatnmie,  the  Norland 
That  Uvea  at  the  lu?  o'  the  kw ; 
Here's  freedom  to  him  that  wad  tcid ! 
Here's  freedom  to  him  that  wad  write  I 
Thete'a  nane  ever  fear'd  that  tlie  tnith  should 

he  heard. 
But  they  wham  the  truth  wad  indite. 

Here's  a  health  to  them  that's  awa, 

Here's  Chiettain  Sl'Leod,  a  Chieflaia  worth 

Here's  frieods  on  both  sides  of  the  Forth, 
And  friends  oil  both  sides  of  tlie  Tweed; 
And  irha  wad  betray  old  Albion's  rights. 
May  they  never  eat  of  her  bread. 


lfrai{iii:kii'!  f nratnt.  (sss) 

Thickest  night,  o'crhons  m.«  dwelling! 


Cr.yatal  streamlets  [-ently  flowing 
Western  breezes  sofdy  blowin'. 
In  the  cause  of  right  ensajred. 

Honour's  war  we  strongly  BSs^i, 
Bnt  the  lieaveus  deuied  suecess, 

Bnin's  wheel  has  dtiveji  o'er  ns, 
Not  a  hope  tiiat  d:ire  attend : 

The  wide  world  is  all  hefore  us— 
But  a  world  without  a  friend. 


Clii!  Snnlts  nf  t^t  Drnnn.  (sas) 

Ivus—Mmnemch  dhoA  no  cM. 
How  pleasant  the  hanks  of  the  clear 
Devon, 
With  gree 


[hloo, 
^reading  bushes,  a 


Was 


lud  on  the  braes  of  the 
s  sweet  blushing  dower, 
orn,  as  it  bathes  in  the 


pride  of  tlie  garden  and 
1  bis  gay  gilded  tilies, 


ffitantitj  angtij  IBinhi's  $\sm.  <324) 

Tosm—Ne'd  Govi's  Laisentatioti  far 

jlJiercairuy. 

WiTBRi^,  bravii^  angry  winter's  stormL 

The  lofty  OchiisriM, 
Far  in  their  shade  my  Pe^y's  charms 

First  West  my  woaderuig  eyes ; 
As  one,  who  by  some  savage  etrean^ 


lonely  ge 


ouhtym; 


Withu 


And  blest  the  da;  and  lioui. 
Where  FegKy*!  charms  I  Hrsi  survey'd. 

Wheutincl  felt  their  pow'rl 
The  tyrant  death,  with  grim  control, 

May  seize  my  fleeting  breath ; 
But  tearins  P^rfry  from  my  soul 

Must  be  a  stronger  death. 


Tone— aiy  Peggy's  Faet, 
Mv  Peggy's  ftee.  my  Peggy's  fiirm, 
The  frost  of  hermit  age  might  wurm ; 
My  Peggy's  worth,  my  Peggy's  mind, 
Alight  diarm  the  first  of  human  IduL 


The  lily's  hne,  the  n 


Who  bat  bnowB  they  all  decay ! 
Tlie  tender  thrill,  tha  pitying  telil, 
The  gen'rouB  [nirpose,  nobly  dear. 
The  gentle  look,  that  rage  disarms- 


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BUENS'S  POETICAL  T 


5RBnmg  'Jtmills  amnn!!  !irr  Slmmnj 

(.3  5) 
TUNB — UBCirrejor  0/ R  inrn  j  in  nent 
EatiNO  winds  aronnd  het  1  low  n«- 
"   ■■  w  lesies  the  orooillaiida  stiowmg, 


M  deploriii 


By. 

leixbella  sirs 
^Farewell  he 
Sunihiiiednyaof  ja;snd  pleasure; 
Hail,  thou  gloomy  iiiaht  of  sorroir, 
Ctieeiless  night  that  knon^  no  iuohot  1 
O'er  the  past  too  fondly  wandering, 
On  the  hoiipleas  future  pondetiug ; 
Chilly  griof  my  life-blood  freesus, 

life,  thna  soul  of  etery  blesaing, 
Load  to  misery  most  distresaing, 
GMly  hoi-  Toold  I  reaisn  Ihee, 
Audtodiik  oblivion  jopi  ilieel" 


Siiililaiil  JParni.  (326) 

Mt  Harry  was  « inillaiit  gay, 

Pu'  stotply  Ettnde  he  on  the  phuni 
Bot  now  he's  banish'd  far  away, 
111  never  see  htm  hack  a^io, 
Oh  for  him  back  again ; 

OhfothimbaekasRin! 
I  wad  trie  a'  Knockhaapie'a  land 
For  liigldaod  llarry  hack  ^luil. 


When  a'  the  la 


re  gee  lo  their  bed, 

1  wanuet  nuwie  up  the  glen ! 
1  dt  roe  down  and  ^«et  my  fill. 

And  aya  I  wish  liim  back  ^ain. 
Oh  were  some  villians  hausit  high. 

And  ilka  Iwdy  had  their  oin  I 
Then  I  misht  see  llie  joyfu"  eight. 

My  Highland  Harry  bark  again. 


JSosing  Bn  t^  Knaring  ifirEan.  (327) 

TuuB — Dmiimoa  DubL 
MnsiNQ  on  the  roaring-  ocean 

'IVhieh  divides  my  love  and  me; 
Wearying  Ileaiien  in  n-arm  devotion, 

Foe  iiij  weal  where'er  be  be, 
Hope  and  fear's  alternate  hiUov 

Yielding  late  to  nature'!  law. 
Wbisp'ring  spirits  round  my  pdlow 

Talk  of  him  tliat's  far  awa. 
ye  whom  sorrow  never  wounded, 

Ye  who  never  shed  a  tear, 
Care-uiilrouhled,  joy  surrounded. 

Gaudy  day  to  yon  is  dear^ 


SlijiljE  msi  i^i.  raas) 

TwB—Andrii  and  hU  Cutty  Gat. 

Blythe,  hlythe  and  merry  was  abe, 
Jjlvthe  was  slie  butt  and  ben : 

Blylbe  by  the  banks  of  Ern, 
And  blythe  in  Gkntvrit  glen. 
By  Auchtertyre  frows  the  ajfc. 

But  Phemie  was  a  bonnier  lass 

Than  braes  o'  Yarrow  ever  saw. 
Her  looks  were  like  a  flown  in  May, 
She  tripped  by  the  banks  o'  Ern, 


was  tlie  Ijbnk  o'  I'lieraie's  ee. 
The  Highland  Hlls  Pvb  wander'd  wid 
a  o'er  the  lowlands  I  hue  been ; 

11  ever  trod  tlie  dewy  green. 


t  has  the  lend; 
'II  add  my  hand. 


Ho,t,db,  Google 


WHES  JANTTAK'  IVIKD. 


ff!jj©liito-n!i  ffinsc  sif 

The  Wude-reil  rose  at  Yule 
The  aimtDH  hOies  bloom  in  , 
llie  frost  may  freeze  the  dee 


J  Mi;  Slan, 


And  flaU^riag  tonguB 


For  r'  his  meal  end  a'hb  mi 
For  a' his  fcesh  beef  and  his 
For  a'  his  g;o1d  a:id  white  m 


la  do>va  from  his  red  bli 


S  EnsE-lrnii  bii  ii[i|  Csxl'i  ISalk.  (32i 

Tune— r^  Bose-iiid. 
A  ROSK-BUD  by  my  early  walli, 
Adown  a  coTD-enclosed  bawk, 
8ae  gently  bent  it^  thorn;  elulk. 

In  a'  its  crimson  glory  apread. 
And  drooping  rich  tlie  dewy  liead, 

It  scents  the  early  morning. 
Within  the  bnsh,  her  covert  nea^ 
A  little  linnet  fondly  prest. 
The  den  sat  chilly  on  her  breaat 

Sae  early  in  the  morning. 
She  soon  shall  see  her  tender  brood. 
The  pride,  the  pleasure  o'  tlie  wood. 
Among  the  fresh  green  leaves  bedew'd, 

Awake  the  early  morning. 
So  thou,  dear  bird,  young  Jeany  fair  1 

Blull  aneetly  pay  the  tender  care 
Thi '■ ■ 

Sludt  be'ei 
And  bles! 


That  tends  thy  early  m 


19  blaze  upon  the  day, 
ih'd  thy  early  monilDg. 


Smiiii;  &aslli  §jiiWi, 

Tune— Jlforpj. 
!E»5ts  that  glide  in  orient  pluns, 
(lowing  here  on  gulden  aaiids, 

Vom  tyrann.v's  empurpled  bjndi  5 
:5e,  their  richly  gleaming  waves. 


Woods  t 
I  leave  the  tyrant  and  the  slave; 
Give  me  the  groves  that  lofty  brito 
The  storms  by  Castle-Gotdon. 


life's  poor  day  III  musing  rave, 
And  find  at  night  a  sheltering-  en 
Where  waters  flow  and  wild  wow 


Tuns— Tie  Lais  that  made  the  Bed  la 
When  Jannar'  wind  was  blawing  cauM, 

As  to  the  north  I  look  my  way. 
The  mirksorae  night  did  me  enfanld, 

I  knew  UB  where  to  lodge  till  day, 
By  my  good  lufk  a  maid  T  met. 

Just  in  the  middle  0'  my  care ; 
And  kindly  she  did  me  in/ite 

To  walk  into  a  chamber  Mx. 
I  bow'd  fu'  low  imlo  this  maid. 

And  thank'd  her  for  her  courteiie, 
I  bow'd  fu'  low  unto  this  maid. 

And  bade  her  mak  a  bed  to  me. 
She  made  the  bed  baitb  large  and  wide. 


he 

natch'dth 

e  candle 

a  her  hand. 

dfraemy 

ivent  wi'  speed 

caU-d  her 

ack  again 

To 

byaome 

oudr  below  my  heai 

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BDHNS'S  POETICAL  WOEKS. 


The  lasa  tliuC  made  tie  bi 
Het  bosom  was  the  driven  ? 

Twa  drifted  heaps  eae  fai 
fler  limba  the  polisli'd  maili 


Ikiaa'dh. 


T  hid  het  'twefo  me  and  the  wa'— 
The  lasMB  thought  na  lang  tiH  day. 

Upon  the  morrow  when  we  rose, 
1  tlianfd  her  for  her  «ourte»iB ; 


1  aud,  "  My  iasEie,  dinna.  cry. 

For  ye  aye  ahull  mait  the  bed  to  me." 
abe  took  her  mithct'a  Holland  sheets. 


Itie  baanie  lass  made  the  bed  to  me, 
The  braw  lass  made  the  bed  to  me : 

ni  ne'er  forget  till  the  day  1  die, 
?1ie  ksa  that  made  the  hed  to  me  1 


Josm—Morag. 
tODD  blaw  the  frosty  breeMs, 


Since  my  young  Highland  Saver 
Fu  wBiidets  sations  over. 
Where'er  he  go,  wliere'er  he  strayj 


The  trees  now  naked  groaning. 
Shall  soon  wi'  leaves  be  hinging; 

The  birdies  dowie  moaniiig. 
Shall  a'  be  blythely  sloping. 


Sae  I'll  rejoice  the  lee-lsng  day. 
When  by  bis  mighty  warden 

My  youth's  returned  to  fair  Strathipey, 
AaihounieCasile-Gordon. 


SoniiiE  iHnii.  (33i) 


jmely  face  eac  fu"  of  grace, 


That  sweetly  ye  nught  sf 
Tonth,  graee,  and  love  alten 

And  pleasure  leads  the  vs 
lu  n'  their  elLBims,  aiid  eonq 

They  wait  on  homiie  Ann 
Tlie  eaptive  luitds  may  chaL 


Te  gallani 


Blujtininjj  Jirilii. 

TuMK— On  o  Bank  of  Flavxra. 
Oh  &  bank  of  flowers,  in  a  enmmet  day. 

For  summer  lightly  dresl. 
The  youthful  bloomuig  Nelly  lay. 

With  love  and  sleep  ojipreat ; 
When  IVilhe,  waud'ciug  thro'  the  wo'jtl, 

Who  for  her  favour  oft  hod  sued. 
He  gaa'd,  he  wish'd,  he  teefi,  he  blash'4 

And  trembled  wliete  he  stood. 
Her  cloaeil  eyes  like  ireapona  aheath'cl. 

Were  sealed  in  soft  repose ; 
Her  lip)  still  as  she  (ragranC  hieath'd, 

It  richer  iyd  the  rose. 
Tnie  springing  lilies  sweetly  prest. 


Her  robes  light  wo 
Her  lovely  form,  h 


__  faltering,  ardent  hiss  he  stole; 
He  gaz'd,  ho  wish'd,  lie  fear'd,  he  bluah'd — 

les  tlie  piu-tridge  from  the  brak^ 


Ho,t,db,  Google 


OF  A'  THE  AIRTS  THE  WIND  CAN  BLAW. 


il  mnie  foHow'd,  u  he  ahoiild, 
Ha  overtook  her  in  the  wood ; 
;  yow'd,  he  pray'd,  he  fuuuil  Che  maid 
Eorgiiing  nil  aud  good. 


Mtl  tmm  Sim-  (333] 
Tone— Go  fetilt  lo  ms  a  Pint  o'  Wine. 
Go  fetch  to  me  a  pint  o'  wine. 

That  I  raajr  drink,  hefore  I  go, 

A  service  to  my  bonny  lassie : 
The  boat  roeks  at  the  pier  o'  Leith, 

Fu'  loud  the  wind  bkws  frae  the  Fert;; 
The  ship  Hdes  by  the  ISernick-kv, 

And  1  maun  leive  my  bonniB  May. 
The  trumpeta  sonnd,  the  banners  Ey, 

The  glittering  spcara  ore  tanked  leadj ; 
The  shouts  o"  war  are  heard  alai. 

The  battle  closea  thick  and  bloody; 

Wad  make  toe  langet  wish  to  larry ; 
It's  leaving  thee,  my  boniue  Mary. 

CSnt    ^Bnil   liM.     (TOS) 
TVTiar-Rory  Sali'l  Port. 
Ame  fond  kiss  and  then  we  sever ; 
Aiie  farewce!.  bIiis,  for  ever  t 
Deep  in  heart-UTunj  tears  I'll  plei3j;e  thee. 
Warring  sighs  and  groans  I'll  wage  thee. 
Who  shall  say  that  fortune  grieves  him. 
While  the  star  of  hope  she  leaves  him? 
Me,  noa  cheerfu'  twinkle  lighta  mo; 
Dark  dctpair  around  benights  me. 


Iiove  but  het,  and  love 


We  had  ne'er  been  btoken-heatd 
Fare  thee  weel,  thon  first  and  ia 
Fate  Che  i-eel,  thou  best  and  dei 
Thine  he  ilka  joy  and  treasure, 
Peace,  etgu'inent,  lo'e,  and  pleas 
Aoe  fond  k.ds,  and  tiien  we  sevei 
Ane  fareaeei,  alas  1  for  ever  I 


^ln  gffliiing  Sjinitj, 


.s  forth  tl 


Tlie  ev'ning  gilds  the  ocean's  swell ; 
All  creatures  joy  in  the  sun's  retoroing,  , 

A.nd  1  r^oice  in  my  bonnie  Bell. 
Tlie  flowery  spring  leads  snnny  snmmH, 

A.tid  yelhiw  autumn  presses  near. 
Then  in  his  turn  comes  gloomy  winter. 

Til!  smiling  spring  again  appew. 
Thus  seasons  dani-iiig,  Ufc  advaodng, 

CM  Time  and  Nature  their  changes  teO, 
But  never  ranging,  still  unchangiug, 


Tvsii— The  Lasy  Mist. 
The  lasy  mist  hangs  from  the  brow  of  the 

Coiiceoliug  the  conrse  of  the  dark  winding 
How  languid  the  scenes,  late  so  sprightly, 

appear! 
As  autumn  to  winter  resigns  the  pale  year. 

the  gay  foppery  of  auniiner  is  flown: 


How  long  I  have  liv'd — hn 


And  doMTiwatd,   how  weaten'd,  h 


(Sf  a'  tin  aids  lljj  ■ffiinir  ran  Slam. 


The  lassie  lloe  best; 


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BUESS'S   POETICAL  WOEKS. 


There  wild  woofla  gtow,  nnd  rivers  row 

And  mooy  a  hiil  between ; 
But  day  and  night  my  fancy's  flight 


I  hear  her  in  thetmiffu'  birds, 

I  hear  her  charm  the  ait : 
There's  not  a  bonnie  flower  that  springs 

By  fountain,  shaw,  or  grceu. 
There's  not  a  bonnie  bii-d  that  singa. 

But  minds  me  o'  my  Jean. 
Oh  blaw  ye  westlin  winds,  hlaw  eaft 

Wi'  balmy  gale,  frae  hill  end  dale 
Bring  hame  the  laden  bees ; 


Sae  charming  is  my  Jean  1 
What  sighs  and  tows  emaog  the  knowe 

Hae  passed  atuieen  us  twa  1 
How  ibud  to  meet,  how  wne  to  par^ 

That  night  she  gaed  awa ! 
The  powers  aboon  can  only  ken. 

To  whom  the  heart  ia  seen. 
That  nine  cau  be  sae  dear  to  me 

As  my  sweet  lovely  Jean  J 

(5^,  ma  %  nn  ^arnassiis'  Sill,   pss) 

Tone. — M^  Lout  is  Iml  to  me. 
Oh,  were  I  on  Parnassna'  hill  I 


That  I  might  catoh  poetic  slull. 
To  sing  how  dear  1  love  thee 
But  Nith  maun  be  my  mnse'a  i 
My  muse  maun  be  thy  honnie  : 
On  Corsincon  111  glow'r  and  an 


ffillE  &\}m[lm's  tm 

tint,  (338) 

Tune— Caijiflm  O'iJTeon. 

The  small  birds  rejoice  in  t 

he  green  leaves 

The  murm^gstrearalets 

[the  vale; 

rinds  clear  thro' 

Phe  hawthorn  treea  blow 

m  the  dew  of 

the  morning, 

pa  ITd^  the 

And  wild  scattered  cowsl 

But  wliat  can  give  pleasur 

efor  what  can 

[by  care? 

While  the  lingering  moment 

arB  numbered 
«>^     nnr    hirAa 

lODthe  the  sad  bosom  of  joyless  despair. 
The  deed  that  I  dared,  eonld  it  merit  their 


Id  heasta  find  shelter,  but 
me.  [forlorn; 

sufferings  thus  wretched, 


M<i  iriirt'B  in  tljc  JGigljIaiiiJi. 

Tune— rniJfe  no  Mway 

Msheott's  m  the  Highlands,  my  heart  ia 

not  here  [deer ; 

My  heart's  m  the  Highlands  a  ehasiug  the 

Chasing  the  wild  deer,  and  following  the 

My  heart's  in  the  Highlands  wherever  I  go. 
Farewell  to  the  Highlands,  farewell  to  the 
North,  [worth; 

The  birth-place  of  valour,  the  country  of 
Wlierever  i  wgnder,  wherever  I  rove, 
The  hills  of  the  Highlands  for  ever  I  love. 


I  couldna  aing,  I  couldna  say. 

How  much,  how  riear,  I  hivB  thee. 
I  see  thee  danriog  o'er  the  green. 
Thy  waist  sae  jimp,  thy  hmbs  sae  dean. 

By  heasen  mid  earth  I  love  thee  I 

Far      11  t 

«  h 
Paiewll  to 
Piiwll  t 

y  rew  11  t 

th          h 

th    t      t 

d    gr    i  ^ffies 
I      Id-hanging 

By  night,  by  day,  a-field,  at  hame, 

The  thoughts  o'  thee  my  breast  inflame ; 

And  aye  I  muae  and  sing  thy  name— 

I  only  live  to  love  thee, 
Tho'  I  were  doora'd  to  wander  on 
Beyond  the  sea,  beyond  the  sun. 

My  heart 

Myl"  rt 
Cha          h 

Myh"^ 

th    H   hi    1    my  heart  is 

[deer : 

m  th    II    hi    d     H:hBsiiig  the 

w  Id  dec         d  f  11  ving  the 

Ho,t,db,  Google 


AULD  LANG    SYME. 

SlLouli  euii  acquaitLtanqe   be  ior^ot, 


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Ho,t,db,  Google 


on,  WILLIE  BKEWD. 


^s^K  Sntoirsiin. 

TOHE — John  Anderson  my^ 
John  Aodetson  my  jo,  John, 


Biit  now  yonr  brow  ii  bald.  John, 
Ydui  locks  are  like  the  s«aw; 

But  blessings  on  ;oui  frosty  paw, 
John  Anderson  my  jo. 

John  Anderson  my  jo,  Johci, 
We  clttmb  the  hill  thegitber. 

And  moD  J  ft  canty  day,  John, 

Now  He  maun  totCer  down,  John, 

But  hand  in  hand  we'll  go, 
And  sleep  thegither  at  the  foot, 

John  Anderson  mji  jo. 

Su  Mar^  in  Jiraira.  1337) 

Tvss— Death  afCajitain  Cook. 
Thoo  linB'ring  star,  with  Icss'nijig  ray, 

'Iliat  lov'M  to  greet  the  early  mom. 
Again  tlion  usher'at  in  the  day 

My  Mary  from  mj  soul  was  torn. 
Oh  Mary  t  dear  departed  shade ! 

Where  is  thy  place  of  blissful  rest  ? 
See'st  thou  thy  lover  lowly  l^d? 

Hear'st  thou  the  groans  that  rend  bis 
breistf 
That  eacred  hour  can  I  torgefc 

Can  I  forget  the  haHowed  grove. 
Where  by  the  winding  Ayr  ne  met. 

To  live  one  day  of  partmg  love  I 
Eternity  will  not  efface 

Those  records  dear  of  transports  past ; 
Thy  image  at  our  last  embrace. 

Ah  I  little  thougiit  we  'twas  our  last ! 
Ayr,  gu^bng,  tisa'd  bis  pebbled  shore, 

O'erhui^    with  wild   woods,    thiok'ning 

Hie  fragrant  bheh,  and  bawtliom  hoai, 

The  flow'rs  sprang  wBulon  to  be  prest, 
The  birds  sang  loie  on  every  apriy-' 
Till  too,  too  soon,  the  glowing  west 

Frodaim'd  the  speed  of  winged  day. 
Still  o'er  these  scenes  my  mem'ry  wakes. 
And  fondly  broods  with  miser  care  I 
^me  but  th'  impression  stronger  makes. 


My  Mary,  dear 


:  channels  i 
larted  shade  I 


^Birnj  f nrhij. 

Tune — Yamii)  Jeettg. 
YOUNO  Jockey  was  the  liljthcst  lad 

Fn'  biythe  he  whistled  at  the  gaud, 
Tu'  lightly  danced  he  in  the  ha'. 

He  roosed  my  een,  sae  bondie  blue. 
He  roosed  my  waist  Bse  genty  sma', 

When  ne^et  a  body  heard  or  saw. 
My  Jockey  toils  npon  the  piiu». 

Thro'  wind  and  weet,  thro'  frost  and  mi 
And  o'er  the  lea  I  lenk  fu"  tun. 

When  Jockey's  owsen  hamewatd  ca' 
And  aye  the  uight  comes  round  again. 


^t  foil  ailflltH!.  (338) 
Tune — SeceniA  of  ffoBeniier. 
The  day  returns,  my  bosom  bums. 
The  blissful  day  we  twa  did  meet; 


^wiUW 


it  loads  the  tide. 


Ne'er 

And  crosses 
Than  kingly  to 


While  day  and  n!ght  can  bring  delight, 
Of  nature  aught  of  pleasure  give. 

While  joys  above  my  mind  can  movft 
For  thee,  and  thee  alone,  1  live. 

When  that  grim  foe  of  life  below 

"lie  iron  hand  that  breaks  our  band. 
It  breaks  my  hliss— it  breaks  mv  heart  1 


TuiiE.~-Willie  bmo'd  a  Peck  o'  Malt. 
Oh,  WilUe  hrew'd  a  peck  o'  maut. 

And  Bob  and  Allan  cam  1o  prec  : 
Three  blyther  hearts,  that  lee-lang  uigh^ 

"   wad  na  find  in  Cbtiatendie. 


And  mony  a  night  wi 


Ho,t,db,  Google 


211 

It  is  the  moon,  I  ken  hei  horn, 
lint's  bliiikin'  io  the  lift  aae 

Bbe  shines  aae  br^ht  to  wile  a 
But,  by  my  sooth,  abe'll  w«il 

Vfhi  Bnt  shidl  rise  to 


BURNS-S  POETICAL  WORKS. 


uckold, 


There's  Lowtie,  the  loird  o'  Dnirneller, 
"Gaid  day  to  you,  brute  L"  he  coiaesben; 

He  bra^s  and  he  blaws  o'  liis  tiiller, 

""  t  when  will  he  dance  hke  Tarn  Glen? 


I  GAEi>  a  wftefa'  gate  yestreen, 
A  gat*.  I  fear,  I'!l  dearly  me ; 

1  gat  my  death  Srae  twa  sweet  ceo, 
Twe  lovely  eea  o'  bonnie  blue. 

Twaa  not  her  golden  ringlets  bright  j 
Her  lipa  hke  roaes  wet  wi'  dew, 

"-■-    -^  -■- .lily-white 


Itw 


She  talk'd,  she  amil'd,  my  hesit  she  wil'd ; 

She  cliarm'd  my  aoul — I  wist  na  how ; 
And  aye  the  atounil,  the  deadly  wound. 

Cam  tree  her  ten  sae  bounie  blue. 
But  spare  to  speak,  and  spare  to  speed; 


.  Willi  get  but  Tam  Glen? 
Yestreen  at  the  valentine's  dealing 

For  thrice  I  drew  ane  nithout  Ming, 
And  thrice  it  was  written — Tam  Glen, 

The  last  Halloween  I  was  waukin 
My  droukit  aark-sleeve,  as  ye  ken  ; 
is  Ukeness  cam  up  the  house  staukin, 
And  the  very  grey  breeks  o'  Tam  Glei 


aflje  Sanks  nt  Siflj. 


id  I  loe  dMiy.  Tjiu  Glen 


Fore 


sr  keep  me  here  ? 


w  lovely,  Nith,  thy  fruitful  vales. 

Where  spreailing  hawthorns  gaily  bloom ! 
Hov  sweetly  wind  thy  slopuig  i^es. 

Where  lambkins,  wanton  thro'  the  broom : 
Tho'  wandering,  now,  must  be  my  doom, 

Fw  from  thy  bunnie  banks  and  braea. 
May  there  my  latest  hours  consume, 

Araaog  the  friends  of  early  days  I 


HS^  lititrl  is  H-lirrsliina,  Jliar  &Viit ! 

Tune— rom  Glea. 
My  heart  is  a-breaking,  dear  Tittle  I 


SllcrE'li  nEurr  lie  T^tm. 

Tune — There  are  fea  gaid  feltaia 


Br  yon  castle  wi 

I  heard  a  man  si 

grey; 


We  dareiia  weei  sayX  t 

o  blame, 
Therell  never  be  peace  ti 


I  greet  round  tlieir  green 


Thsrell  never  be  peace  till  Jamie  comes 


ce  till  Jamie  comes  heme'. 


Ho,t,db,  Google 


■WHAT  CAN  A  YOUNG  LASSIE. 


^Mt  lliinb  inij  Dime. 

Tune— My  Tocher's  the  Jewel. 
Oh  mnUe  thinks  my  luve  o"  my  beauty. 

And  meikle  Ihiiiks  my  iuva  o'  my  kin ; 
Bat  little  tbinks  my  Inve  I  ken  brawlle 

My  tocher'a  the  jewrf  hu  charma  for  1 
It's  »'  for  the  apple  hell  noutiak  the  tree 

It's  a'  tot  tbe  hiney  he'll  checish  the  Y 
My  laddie'a  me  meikle  in  lave  wi'  the  ei 

He  canna  hae  Iuva  to  apata  for  me; 


cmfeas  thee  aweet,  bnt  tini 

lu  art  sae  thriftless  o'  thy 

Thy  favours  are  the  sQly  wind. 

That  kisses  ilka  thing  it  meet 

See  yonder  roae-bud,  lie 

AmiuiE  its  native  bri 

Honsu 


Tho'  thou  may  naily  bloom  awhile! 

ret  sune  Ihou  niiult  be  thronn  aside 

Like  ony  common  need  and  Tile. 


^m  run  %  hi  ©lntliE  airi  iSlaii. 

Tune— TAe  bimide  Lad  that's  far  ama. 
Oh  how  em  I  be  blythe  and  giftd. 

Or  how  ean  I  gang  brisk  and  hr»», 
When  the  bnniiie  lad  that  I  loe  best 

Is  cM're  tbe  bills  and  tar  awl  ? 

When  the  boniiie  hid  that  I  toe  best 
la  onre  tlie  bills  and  far  awa  ? 
If  a  no  the  frosty  wmter  wind, 

It^i  no  tbe  driving  drift  and  snaw; 
Bnt  aye  the  tear  eoines  in  my  ee, 

To  think  on  him  tliafa  far  awa. 

To  think  on  bhu  tliat's  br  aw>. 
My  &ther  pat  me  frae  his  door. 

My  AieudB  they  hae  disown'd  me  a'. 
But  I  hae  ana  will  tak  my  part, 
Hia  bonuiB  lad  tlist's  far  awa. 
But  I  hae  ane  will  tak  my  part. 
The  bonuie  lad  tliat'a  far  awa. 

A  pair  o'  gloves  he  gae  to  mn. 

And  ulken  snoods  he  (^e  me  twa ; 
And  I  will  wear  them  for  his  sake. 
The  hunnie  lad  that's  far  awa. 
And  I  will  wear  them  for  his  sake, 
The  bonnie  lad  tliat'a  far  awa. 


Tone — Itedyoa  ieioore  of  ITie  Btmd'is. 

The  heather  was  hloomiug,  the  meadowa 

Our  ladsgaed  a-huntingane  iay  at  the  dawn. 


Owra 


%  iiB  tDiiffss  ijiDii  art  jne  ^air.  (34i) 

I  DO  confess  thoi.  art  sae  fair, 
I  wad  been  owre  the  lugs  in  love, 

Had  I  iia  found  tbe  sli^hMat  prayer 

That  lips  could  speak  thy  heart  could  move. 


glen, 


Sweet  brushing  the  dew  from  tbe  brown  hea- 
tliei  bells, 
«>loura  betiay'd  her  on  yon  mossy  fella ; 


t  her  plumage  he  tried  hj 


lask'd  on  the 
but  raatli'd 


I  red  you  beware,  &«. 
They  hunted  the  veliey,  they  hunted  the  hill  j 
:  best  of  our  lads  wi'  the  best  o'  their  skill ; 
t  still  as  the  Giireat  she  sat  in  then  sight, 
IB,  whirr  I  she  was  over,  a  mde  ttt  a  flight. 
I  red  you  beware,  &c 


'SSW  ran  H  'fus^  lEfisaa. 

IE — Wliat  cita  a  young  lassie  do  wp  a 


(oung  hissie,  what  shall  a  young 
»  young  laeaia  do  wi'  an  auldj 


Ho,t,db,  Google 


Bad  luck  on  the  penny  th»t  templed 

To  sell  het  poor  Jenny  for  siller  and  li 
Bad  luck  on  the  penny  that  tempWii 

To  sell  her  poor  Jenny  for  siller 

He's  al«»ya   compleentn'  ftae   mornin 


EimNS'S  POETICAL  'WOEES. 

f  milt!  Sbhim. 

Tune— Mss  Muir. 


Oh,  dreary's  t 
hums  and  he  hi 


!  night  wi' a  crazy  auld 
ikers,  he  frets  and  he 


break  him. 


and  wrack  hi 


a  I  he 


And  then  bis  atild  brass  vill  buy  me  n 
ni  cross  iiim,  and  wrack  him,  until  I 


BoMNiB  wee  thing,  eannie  wee  tiling, 

Lovely  wee  thing,  wert  thou  mine, 
I  wad  wear  thee  in  my  bosom. 

Lest  my  jewel  I  should  tine. 
TTisbfully  I  look,  and  langnish, 

Li  that  bonnie  &ce  o'  thine ; 
And  my  heart  it  slounds  wi'  ansnisb. 

Lest  my  wee  thing  be  na  mine. 
'Wit,  and  grace,  and  love,  and  beauty, 

Li  ane  canstelktiou  shine ; 
To  adore  thee  is  my  duty. 

Goddess  o'  this  soul  0'  mine ! 
Bonnie  wee  thing,  cannie  wee  thing, 

Lovely  wee  thing,  wert  thou  mine, 
Xvad  wear  ihee  in  my  bosom. 


0  HOW  shall  r,  iinskilfu',  try 

The  poet's  occupation, 
Tlie  tunefu'  pow«s,  in  happy  honre, 

That  whispera  inspiration? 
Even  they  maun  dare  an  effOrt  mate 

Than  aught  Ihey  ever  gave  ns. 
Or  they  rehearse,  in  equal  vers^ 

The  charms  o'  lovely  Daviea. 
Each  eye  it  cheers,  when  she  appeara, 

Like  Phmhus  in  the  mocning, 
When  past  the  shower,  and  ev'ry  flower 

'ihe  garden  is  adorning. 
As  the  QTetch  looks  o'er  Siberia's  shorty 


tn  of  such  a  themes 


The  deed  too  dariug  bravt 
11  drap  the  Ijte,  and  mute  ; 
llie  duurms  o'  lovely  Uavi 


|i,  fur  ara-Knii-tiiiEufii,  Inn. 

Tune— Tie  MoiidieworL 


They  snool  me  sair. 
And  gar  me  look 

But  tliree  short  years 
And  Oien  comes  a 

rid  hand 
ke  bluut 
will  soon 
e-aiid-tw 

A  gleih  &  Ian 

Was  left  m 

At  kith  or  kio 

'£ 

to' gear 
auntie, 
na  spier 

ram; 

Ho,t,db,  Google 


m  SIMMER,  WHEN  THE  HAY  WAS  MAWH. 

'Himm's  nn  aaii  Sira.  (3*2) 

TUWB— O*  Kenmurt'i  <m  and  asia,  fTillix. 


Oh  Kenmure's  on  and  b' 
Oh  Kenmure's  on  and 

And  Keiimute's  lord's  ll; 
That  ever  Galloway  ta 


Here's  Kcnmure'a  healtli  in  wine ; 

Here'a  Kenmuie's  health  in  wine ;  [blude 
There  ne'er    woa  o   coward  o'  Kenniure'i 

Nor  jet  o'  Gordon's  line. 
Ob  Kenmure's  teds  are  men,  Willie  I 
_  Oh  Kenmure's  lads  are  men ; 

ta  and  swords  ore  metal  true — 


It  th«r  foes  shoU  il 


Hny  Keamure'a  lord  come  hame. 
Here's  him  that's  far  awa,  milie ! 

Here's  him  tbac'sr^rawa! 
Ajid  here's  the  flower  iliat  I  love  best— 


^iS5  flntr  lire  gjiinniirg  W^nl. 

Tune— rCie  meet  ta^  that  Iocs  me. 
Oh  leese  rae  on  my  spinning-wheel. 
Oh  leese  me  on  my  rock  aod  reel ; 
le  that  deeds  me  bien. 


lllae 
While 


ligh  descends  the  simmer  sun 
ing-wbeel  1 


lite. 


On  ilka  band  the  bum 

And  meet  below  my  theekit  cot ; 

Tlie  Bcenlcd  birk  and  hawthorn  B 

Alike  to  screen  the  birdies  nest. 
And  little  fishes'  caller  rest  i 
The  sun  blinks  kindly  in  the  bid'. 
Where  blythe  I  turn  my  spinning-a'heeL 
On  lofty  Biks  the  cushats  wail. 
And  echo  cons  the  doolfu'  tale  i 
The  bntwhiles  in  the  basel  brae^ 
Jielighted,  rival  ither's  lays : 
The  craik  amauB  the  clover  hny. 
The  paitrick  whirrin'  o'er  the  ley. 
The  swaUow  jinklu'  round  ray  sbiel. 
Amuse  me  a(  toy  spinnnig-wheeL 


Ahcon  distr 

Oh  wha  wad  leave  this  humble  stat 
For  a'  the  pride  of  a'  the  great  ? 
Amid  their  flaring,  idle  toys. 

Can  they  the  peace  and  pleasure  [e£ 
Of  Bessy  at  her  spmning-wheel  ? 


And  a'  tTpu'a^ 

etomjaiodea 

The  primrose  I  wUlpu 

,  the  firsthng 

And  I  will  pa'  the  pin 
For  she's  the  pint  o'  n 

k,  the  emblem 
mankind,  and 

without  a  peer— 
And  a'  to  be  a  posie 

to  my  am  del 

rilpu' the  budding  ros 

,  when  PlifEbu 

The  hysdnth   for    constancy,  wi'   its  ui^ 
changing  blue — 
And  a'  to  be  a  posie  to  roy  ain  dear  May. 
The  lily  it  is  pure,  and  the  lily  it  is  fair, 
'    '  in  her  lovely  bosom  I'U  place  the  lily 

The  dsisy'a  for  siniphdty,  and  unaffected 
'  d  a'  to  be  a  posie  to  my  ain  dear  May. 
ITie  hawthorn  I  will  pu'  wi'  its  locks  o'  siller 


There,  like 
But  the  so 

an  aged  man,  it  stands  at  brest  of 
ufTster's  nest  within  the  bush  I 

t»k  away— 

And  a' t 

in  dear  Mi^. 

Sit  immt,  mirtn  t^i  J3si| 

MS  aiEinir, 

TuNB— TAe  Counhy 

loM. 

N  simmer. 

And  corn 

While  clave 

Blythe  Bes 

when  the  hay  was  mawn, 
wav'd  green  in  ilka  field, 

r  blooms  white  o'er  the  lea, 

sblawinilkabield; 
ie  in  the  milking  sbiel. 

Ho,t,db,  Google 


BOENS'S  POETICAL  WOEKS 


Then  wait  a  wee.  and  cannic  wale 

A  routhie  butt,  »  routhie  ben : 

There's  Johnnie  o"  the  BuaW&glen, 


"Por  Johnnie  o'  the  Bitstie-glen, 

I  dinna  care  a  single  Jiie ; 
Be  loea  sue  weel  his  cn]H  and  liye, 

He  has  nae  la™  to  sjire  for  me  -. 
But  Wythe's  the  blink  o'  Robie's  ee. 

And,  weel  I  wat,  he  loes  me  dear : 
Ane  blink  o'  him  t  wii  n&  gie 

For  Buaiie-glen  and  •'  his  gaai." 
"Oh  thoughtlesa  lassie,  life's  s  faoght  ,■ 

•Ok  cumiest  gale,  the  strife  is  saii; 
But  aye  fou  han't  is  fechtin  best. 

And  hun^y  cire's  an  unco  care  ; 
But  some  will  spend,  and  some  will  spare, 


That  thy  presence  gies  to  nie. 

TaSE—Tlie  EigU  Mm  of  Moidart. 
WiLLiB  Wastle  dwalt  on  Tweed, 

The  spot  they  ealled  it  Linkum-daddte ; 
Willie  was  a  wahster  guid, 

'-W  wi'  ony  bodie. 


Cou'd  st< 

Oh  Tinkler  Madgie 


Sic  a 


le  has  an  ee — she  has  bu 
LVe  rusty  teeth,  forbye  a 


alen  ither.— 


i  boiigh-hough'd,  she's  hein-ahinn'd 
le  hmpin'  leg  a  hand-breed  shorter 
.  twisted  right,  she's  twisted  left. 


Light  is  th 

Content  and 

What  mail 


iEnrn  npiir  iliim  /air  il'i^s,  (3^) 

Tuhn  again,  thon  hit  Elisa, 

Ane  kind  blink  before  we  part, 
Kua  on  thy  despairing  lover  ! 

Canst  thou  break  his  fotthfn'  heart  ? 
T\uii  agaiu,  thou  fau  Elisa ; 

If  tolore  thy  heart  denies. 
For  pity  hide  the  cruel  sentence 

Undeir  friendship's  kind  disguise  1 
5Tiee,  dear  maid,  hae  I  offended? 

The  offence  is  loving  thee : 
Canst  thou  wreck  hia  peaoe  for  eser, 

Wha  for  thine  wad  gladly  die  ? 
While  the  life  beats  in  my  bosom, 

I'hou  Shalt  m 


T»m 


Hot  the  bee  upon  the 
In  the  pride  o'  sum 

Not  the  little  sporting 
All  beneath  the  aim 


Sic  a  wife  as  Willie  had. 

I  wad  na  gie  a  button  for  her, 
Auld  baudrons  by  the  ingle  sits, 

And  o'i'  bet  loof  her  face  a-waahui'  j 
But  '.Villie's  wife  is  nae  sae  trig, 

She  dights  her  griniiie  wi'  a  hnahioa  ] 
Her  walie  nieyes  like  midden-creels, 
j      Her  fiice  ivad  fyle  the  Logan-Water. 

I  wal  ua  gie  a  button  for  her, 

inrji  s  pml  nf  SlDpta  in  a  Satinn. 

Tune— ^  parcel  o/rojaei  iB  a  nation. 
Faheweel  to  a'  onr  Scottiali  faroe, 
■ewcel  our  ancient  glory, 
feel  even  to  the  Scottish  name. 


ind  Tweed  lins  lo  the  mean, 

mark  where  England's  jirovin 

^uch  a  parcel  of  rogues  in  a  u 

What  force  or  gnile  could  not  a 


Hosted  by  Google 


LOVELY  LASS  OF  ISVEENESS. 


igues 


The  Engliab  steel  w 

Bat  English  gold  hi 

Such  a  parcel  of  r 
Oh  noutd  I  had  not  seen  the  dsy 

That  treaaon  tliua  coqW  fell  us. 
My  auld  grey  head  had  lieu  in  day, 

Wi'  Bniee  and  IojbI  Wallace  1 
But  pith  and  power,  till  my  last  hour, 

I'll  mak  this  declarai" 


$ms  nt  lOjatlj.   (3*5) 

Tune— Orm  nn  ZHoj. 


a  join  i 


the  tolluvil^  song : 
FdSKWKLL,  thou  Ml  day,  tliou  green  earth, 
and  ye  skies. 

Now  Jay  with  the  bright  setting  sun ; 
FareneU  loves  and  friendships,  ye  deaJ'  tender 

ruul 


bill's  /air  nnil  /aiist. 

Tune— Sic's /air  and  fame. 

T  Inrd  her  meikle  and  lang ; 
She's  broken  her  voiv,  she's  broken  n 
And  I  may  e'en  gae  hang. 

And  I  hae  tint  my  dearest  dear ; 
But  woman  is  hut  warld's  gear, 
Sae  let  the  boonie  lassie  gang. 


Whae' 


le  that 


To  this  be  lie  _, 

Nae  fcrhe  'tis  tho'  fiekle  she  prove. 

Oh  woman.  lovely  woman  fair  1 
An  atigel  fonn's  fu'n  to  thy  share, 

"IVad  been  owre  meikle  to  gien  Ihee  mar — 
I  mean  an  angel  mind. 

^Iniii  ^sall^,  $mni  Sffnn.  (siS) 

Tune— Me  yelloK-liaired  Laddie. 
Flow  gently,  awect  Aftoa,  among  thy  green 

Flow  gentl'y.I'll  snig  thee  a  song  in  Ihy  praisoi 
My  Mary's  asleep  hy  thy  mnrninnng  stream. 
Flow  gently,  sweet  Alton,  disturb  not  her 

Thou  stock-dove  whose  echo  resounds  thro* 

the  gleu,  [den, 

Ye  wild  whisthng  blackbirds  in  yon  thorny 

Tbon  green-ciested  lapwing  thy  screaming 

I  charge  you  disturb  not  my  slumbering  iliir. 
How  lofty,  Bweet  Afton,  thy  neighbouring 
hilla,  [rills; 

Par  nuirk'd  with  the  courses  of  dear  windmg 
There  daily  I  miider  as  noon  rises  high. 
My  flocks  and  my  Mary's  sweet  cot  in  my  eye. 
How  pleasant  thy  banks  and  green  Tallies 


There  oft  >i 


wild  in  the  v 


[bkiWi 


k  shades  my  Maty 

Thy  aystal  stream,  Afton,  howlovely  it  glidea. 
And  winds  hy  the  cot  where  my  Mary  resides; 
How  wanton  thy  waters  her  snowy  feet  lave. 


tin  Inmlij  %B5  nf  ^nntratu. 

TiinE—Lasa  of  Injtemtst. 


And  aye  the  aaut  tear  hi 


Ho,t,db,  Google 


330 


Drumossie  moor — Dtnmoa 

A  waefii'  day  it  was  to  i 
Foi  there  I  lost  niy  father  dear. 

My  father  dear,  and  hrethrau  three. 
Tbea  winding  sheet  the  bluidy  clay. 


BUEHS'S  POETICAL  ■WOEKS. 


e  groains  grae 


And  by  them  lies  the  dearest  la 

That  ever  blest  a  womim'i  ee ! 

Now  was  to  thee,  thou  cruel  lord, 


t  t!tr,  rsfr  %mt.  (3«) 

Tune — Graham's  Slrnthipey. 
Oh,  my  luve'a  like  a  red,  red  rose 


OTiM's  sweetly  ployd  in  tune. 
A>  Mx  art  thou,  my  honnie  tasa, 

And  I  will  lute  thee  still,  my  dear. 
Tin  a'  the  seaa  gsog  dry. 

Tin  a'  the  waa  gang  dry,  my  dear. 
And  the  rocks  melt  wi'  the  sun  i 

1  will  luve  thee  atill,  my  dear, 
While  the  sands  o'  hfe  shall  ran. 

And  fore  thee  wee),  my  only  luve ! 


The  deil's  awa,  the  dal'a  awa, 
The  deil's  ena  wi'  the  Eicisei 

He's  danc'd  a.wa,  he's  danc'd  sw 
He's  dauc'd  awa  wi'  the  Eicb 


ut,  well  hiew  our  driuk. 
d  sing,  and  rejoice,  man ; 
henks  to  the  meikle  black 

a  wi'  the  EitaMman. 

a,  the  deil's  awa, 

iwi  wi'  the  EnciEeman  j 


He's  dauc'd  awa  wi'  the  Eic 
There's    threesome  reels,  there's  : 


But  Che  ae  best  dt 

Was— the  deil'a 

The  deifs  aw; 


'i'  the  Eiciaeman. 


snnitljiiSiii ! 


tmls  mtiai  nik  %  in  llif e. 

TcNE — Lfrsit,  ^Ehat  rsck  I  by  Ihee, 
IiDuis,  wliat  reck  I  by  thee. 
Or  Geordie  on  his  ocean  ? 


For  the  sake  o'  somebody  I 
Ye  powers  that  smile  on  virtuous  lore. 

Oh,  sweetly  smile  on  somebody! 
Frae  ilka  dan^r  keep  him  free. 

And  send  me  safe  my  somebody. 
Oh-ho,  for  somebody ! 


aijE  forisEinaii.  (348) 

Tune— ISe  deil  mm  fiddling  Ihraii^Ti 


The  deil  cam  fiddling  through  the  to 
And  danced  awa  wi'  the  Eirdsemaii 

And  ilka  wife  cries—"  Auld  Mahonn, 
1  wish  yon  luck  o'  the  prize  maul" 


Tune— ru  gae  aae  mair  It,  yon  tote 

i'li  aye  ca'  in  by  yon  town, 

And  by  yon  garden  green,  again ; 

ni  aye  ca'  in  by  yon  town. 

And  see  my  bonnie  Jean  again. 


Ho,t,db,  Google 


COCLD  OUGHT  OF  SONG. 


Shell  wtuider  h;  the  aiken 
WTien  trystiU'thne  drawt 
And  when  her  lovely  ft 


•gain  J 
dear  ogBJD  t 


Wilt  thou  be  m 


By  thB  tcetsuce  of  my  soul, 
That's  the  love  I  heat  thee ! 
I  9weai  and  voT  that  only  thou 
Shall  ever  be  my  dearie. 
Only  tbon,  I  sweor  and  vow, 
Bhall  ever  be  my  deat^c 
lassie,  aay  tliou  loes  me  ; 
Ot  if  thou  wilt  nae  be  mj  ain. 
Say  na  thoult  refuse  me : 

ISiou.  for  thino  may  choose  ma. 
Let  OK,  lassie,  quickly  die. 
Trusting  thst  thou  lues  me. 


iCIl,  Wii  i|E  ^Slja's  in  unii  Iran,  i 

Tune— rH  gm  nat  fflair  (0  yon  taw, 


Ye  catrfi  the  glances  o'  her  ee 
How  blest  ye  hints  that  round  1 
And  doubly  welcome  he  the  spr 


But  my  delight  in  yon  toivn, 
And  dearest  hlisa,  is  Lucy  fair. 

Withont  my  love,  not  a'  the  chnrmi 
O'  Paradise  could  yield  me  joy ; 

But  gie  me  Lucy  in  my  arms, 
Aud  welcome  Lajtbud'a  dreaiy  al 


And  she— as  fain 


•But  laftlu  hrn. 

TatiE— The  irmltro/nfa. 
rr  lately  seen  in  f-ladsome  green, 
I'he  woods  tejoii^  tiie  day  ; 

In  double  pride  were  gay ; 
It  now  our  joys  are  lied 


Oh  !  a>.'e  has  i 
Thou  golden  t 


JEimlli  nKglit  nf  Smig. 

Tone— CrrnW  objSi  o/iobj. 
Could  ought  of  song  declare  my  pains. 

Could  artful  numbers  move  thee, 
The  muse  should  tell,  in  lahour'd  strain] 

Oh  Mary,  how  I  lo»e  thee  I 
They  who  but  fe^n  a  wounded  heart 

May  teach  the  lyre  to  languish; 


Then  let  the  sudden  hurstii^  eigh 
The  heart-felt  pang  discover; 

And  in  the  keen,  yet  tender  eye. 
Oh  read  th'  imploring  lover  1 


Hosted  by  Google 


BUENS'S  POETICAL  WORKS. 


Oh  Bteer  her  up  «nd  hand  her  gam 

Her  motlier's  at  the  mill,  Jo ; 
And  gif  she  winna  take  a  man, 

IU'en  let  her  take  her  will,  jo ; 
Tirat  ahnte  her  vi'  »  kindly  kiss. 

And  ca'  another  gill,  jo. 
And  gif  she  take  the  thin^  amiss, 

£'Ten  let  hei  Byte  her  till,  jo. 


and  he  on  btatc. 


gt  urns  fl'  fur  nnc  ffiiglilfii'  ISing;.  (35i) 

Tone — /( tooj  a' far  oar  ru/itfii'  king. 


w 

aaToTonrrishtfu'king 

left  fair  Scotland'*  strau 

a'  for  our  riEliitu'  ktug 

\V 

e'er  saw  Iriah  huid. 

My  dor; 

Vf 

e'er  saw  Irish  land. 

»w 

'isdonctliatmencitiidii 

UpOQthelrisha 

Andgie 

is  bridle- 

With 

jlieufore 

Mydea 

With 

Theaodi; 

srfromth 

ThCEa 

lot  frae  th 

But  I  ha 

parted  fr 

ii)!i  Ki|i3  is  sliE  lliri  tea  m. 

Tune— MorB3. 
iwhaisshethatlwame, 
Aiiilhaa  my  heart  a-kceping? 
.  sweet  is  she  that  loes  me, 

[n  tears  the  rose-buds  steeping! 
Oh  ttiat's  the  qtieeu  o'  womankiiit 


Had 

ne'er  sie  powers  alarming. 

If  thou  hadat  heard  h 
And  thy  atteiilioiiB 

That  ilka  bndy  laiki] 
But  her  by  thee  ia 
Andthonsrt^ld 

er  talking, 
plighted, 

jVhted, 
lighted. 

Ifthon  hast  met  thix 

When  ftae  her  tho 

If  every  other  fan:  on 

fair  one; 
haatparl«l. 

Cnkhm. 

TcHB—CaiedoaiaulIuafs  Deliriht 
TnEBE  was  once  a  day — bnt  old  Time  then 


From  sorri 
(Who  ; 

To  hui 


e  Caledoni 


the  Chi 


Caledonia'! 


And  pledg'd  her  their  godheat 


Ho,t,db,  Google 


le  would 


But  chiefly    the    wooda 


With  tilbge  or  pa=tui 
To   feed    her    fair  Docks  by  her  greeu 
Hi^i:^  coro ;        _  [resort, 

[the  horn. 

Her  darlii^  Btiuiement  the  houods  Bud 
Long  quist  she  reigii'd;     till  thttlierwnrd 

A  flight  of  bold  eagles  fmm  Adrii's  strand: 
IlepeBIKd,  sHOOessKe,  for  many  long  years, 

'Vhey  darkeu'd  the  ait,  and  they  pluuUer'd 

the  land;  [cry. 

Their  pounces  were  murder,  and  terror  their 

They  conquet'd  and  riiin'd  a  world  beside ; 

fly—  '  [dieii. 

The  darins  invaders  they  fled  or    they 

The  fell  hatpy-taven  took  wing  from    the 

The  Bcoui^  of  the  seas,  and  the  dread  of 
Tlie  wild  acaudinaviim  hoot  issu'd  forth 

image,  and  wallow    in 


GLOOMY  DECEMBER. 


[sp, 


[(,re 


No  arts  could    apjiease  them,  no  arms 
could  repel ; 
But  brave  Caledonia  in  vain  Ihcy  assailed, 
Ae  targa  iireil  cm  wtneas  Mid  Loiicartie 

The  Csjneleon-savage  dislntb'd  her  repose, 
ProTok'd  beyond  bearing,  at  last  elie  arose. 


Thus  bold,  independent,  nnconqner'd,  and 
free,  [nm : 

Her  bright  course  of  glory  for  ever  shall 
For  brave  CaleJooia  immortol  must  be ; 

I'll  prove  it  from  Euclid  as  clear  as  the 


But  brave  Caledonia's  the  hypothenuse  ; 
Then  ergo,  she'll  match  them,  aud  match 


my  deadly  fie, 
a  la's  has  hmte  my  reat, 


3llllil,   lljlj   CliiiriES. 
Tune— Bminit  Mary. 


£ut,  ah !  how  hooljess  to  admii^ 
When  ^ed  to  despair ! 

Yet  in  thy  presence,  lovely  fair, 
To  hope  may  he  foi^v'ii ; 


filDDmi]  Dmrahir. 

Tc  HE— fTamimnj  IfUlit. 
lit  1  hail  thee,  thou  gloomy  D 


itting  is  sweet  painful  plea- 
[honr; 
ig  mild  on  the  soft  parting 
ling,  oh  fareweU  for  ever, 
mingled  and  agony  pure- 

ter  now  tearing  the  forest, 

pest  has  shaken  my  bosom, 
t  hope  and  last  comfort  u 


Ho,t,db,  Google 


Still  ss  I  hni!  thee,  Ihou  KlMmj  December, 
Still  shall  I  hail  thee  wi'  sonow  and  etre : 

For  sad  wns  the  porting  thoo  mskeat  me  re- 
Parting  wi'  Nancy,  oh !  ne'er  to  meet  mm 


■S  POETICAL  W0KK3. 

hawks  wi'  h 


Ob  Mally'8  meek,  MalLy'a  sweet, 
Mally's  modest  BJid  discreet, 

Mslly'8  rare,  Mally'a  &ir, 
Mally's  e?ery  way  complete 

Aa  I  was  walking  op  the  street. 
A  barefit  maid  1  chanc'd  to  meet; 


It  were  mair  meet  that  (hose  line  feet 
Were  weel  lac-d  up  in  silken  shoon. 

And  'twere  more  fit  that  she  shoald  sil 
Within  yon  chariot  gilt  aboon. 


By  Colii 

IfColiiis  jenny  01 
My  lady's  while,  n 


iassillis'btnid; 
la  u'  tMher  gujd 
is  lordship  loed. 


Her  yelloir  hair,  heyoni 
Comes  trinklLngdnwi 

And  lier  two  eyes,  like 
Would  Iteep  a  aiukin 


By  Girvaii's  fidry-haunted  et 

The  birdies  flit  on  naiiton  wing, 
lo  Cassillis'  banks  when  e'eniiig  fa'a, 

There  wi'  my  Mary  let  me  flee, 
There  catch  her  ilka  glance  of  tov^ 

The  bounte  blink  o*  Mary's  eel 
TIk!  child  whs  boasts  o'  warld's  nealth 

Is  afien  laiid  o'  meikle  care  i 
But  Mary  she  ia  a'  my  ain— 

Then  let  me  range  by  Csesilhs'  bank^ 
WV  her,  the  lassie  dear  to  me. 

And  CBlch  her  ilka  glance  o'  love. 
The  bonnie  blink  o'  Mary's  ea ! 


ffi?  f  aiq'i  §Bm,  t)jm's  foirs  npnn't, 

TuNB — Gr^j'j  Pijies. 
My  lady's  gown,  there's  gairs  upont. 


A  lily  in  a  wiLleniess. 
Sae  sweetly  move  her  gentle  limfas, 
Like  music  notes  o'  lovers'  hymns : 
The  diaiaonii  dew  is  her  eon  sae  blue, 
Where  laughing  love  sae  wantou  awiu 
My  lady's  dink,  tny  lady'a  dreat, 
The  flower  and  fancy  o'  the  west ; 


To  do  01 


TuNE—KiUicTsaiie. 


rands  there,  man  r 
Saiat  Stephen's  hoos^ 
O'  th'  merry  lads  of  Ayr,  man  ? 
Or  will  we  send  a  man-o'-luw? 
Orwillweaendaaodger? 


leikle  Ursa-Major  ? 
fill  ye  court  a  noble  lo 


Vhen  Love  and  Beauty  heard  the  i 

The  gay  green-wooda  amang,  mai 
There,ga[heringfiowefsandbu3kini 

They  heard  the  blaclilnrd'a  sang,  i 
I  vow,  they  seal'd  it  with  a  kiss 

Sir  Pulitics  to  fetter, 
18  theirs  alone,  the  patent-blis^ 

To  bold  a  File  Champetre. 
■hen  mounted  Mirth,  on  gleesome  i 


Hosted  by  Google 


LEI  m  11!  Tins  Ar  inonT 

O  let  mp  in.  tips  -ae  ui^.l. 


Ho,t,db,  Google 


Ho,t,db,  Google 


Bhe  irainnio- 
And  keep 

n'd  every 
:»  by  wo 

this  FU 

ofAyrtomee 
Champetre. 

Ceald  Bore 

Were  bo 

ADdCyoih 

i5,wnii 
u<i  to  al8 

tea  111 

:™er 

LOVELY  POLLY  8TEWAET. 

Our  fathet'9  bluid  the  kettle  bought 


To  view  thia  Pete  Chainjietre. 

How  msny  a  tobe  sse  RSily  floati 

What  sparkling  jewels  glance, 


Tile  echoing  wood,  the  winding  flood 

Like  Paradise  did  glitter. 
When  angels  met.  at  Adam's  yett. 

To  hold  their  F6l«  Champetre. 
When  Politiea  tame  tliete  to  mil 

And  make  hia  ether-ataue,  man : 
He  drcled  round  the  magic  gronnd. 

But  entrance  found  he  uane,  man : 

Forswore  it,  every  letter. 
Wi'  Inirable  prayer  to  join  and  share 
This  festive  F/ite  Cliampette. 


TiTNE — Piah  about  Ihe  Jomm. 
DoE9  haughty  Gaul  inTasion  threat  ? 

Tlien  let  the  loous  beware.  Sir; 
There's  wooden  walls  upon  our  sea^ 

The  Nith  shall  run  Co  Corsioon, 
And  CrIiM  siuk  in  Solway, 

Ere  we  permit  a  foreign  foe 
On  British  ground  to  rilly ! 
Fal  de  rat,  &c. 

Oh,  let  ns  not  hke  snarling  tykei 


The  kettle  o'  the  kirk  and  state, 
Perhaps  a  claut  may  foil  iut: 

But  deil  a  foreign  tinkler  loon 
Shall  ever  ca'  a  nail  int 


leKii^." 

.eking." 


Clr,  nrerf  ftiDii  in  tin  fanlti  ffiM.  (3B4) 


TUHl 


Oh.  irert  tbou  in  the  cauld  blast 
On  yonder  lea,  on  yonder  lea, 

I'd  shelter  thee,  I'd  ahellet  thesi 
Or  did  misfijrlune's  bitter  storms 

Around  the  blaw,  around  thee  blaw. 
Thy  bield  shonld  be  my  bosom. 


Orwi 


ICinrlii  ^nllii  Itcniflrt. 

Tune— re're  si 

elcome,  Charlie  Steaart. 

Oil  lov 

ly  Polly  S 

Ohc 

harming  P 

lly  Stewart ! 

not  a  flo»er  that  blooms  in  May 

TTia 

s  half  so  f 

Theflo 

.  it  fades  and' fa's. 

And 

art  can  ne 

But  wo 

rth  and  tr 

th  eternalVouth 

Will  give  to  Polly  Si 
Nay  he  whose  arms  shall  fauld  thy  d 


grasps  in  Polly  Slewarl 
Oh  lovely  Polly  Stewart  I 


Hooted  by  Google 


3  rOETICAL  WOEKS. 


TttSs— Banks  of  Baima. 
Teai'nEE:!  1  had  a.  pint  o'  viae, 

A  piece  vhere  body  sbw  na' ; 
Yestreen  lay  on  this  breast  <f  mine 

Thegowden  locka  of  Anas. 
The  hiiusry  Jew  is  wilderoeas 

Bejoicin^  o'er  his  maniia. 
Was  uaethiny;  to  my  hinny  blisH 

Upontbeli^ofAnniL 
Ye  monarchs  lak  the  east  and  nest, 

Frae  Indus  to  Savannah  I 
Gie  me  within  my  etraiamg;  graap 

The  meltiDi;  form  of  Aiiiin. 
There  111  deapise  imiierlal  uharms. 

An  empress  or  sultana, 
While  djiug  raptures  in  her  anna 

I  give  and  ttdie  with  Anna ! 
Awa,  tlion  Bsuntinff  god  o'  day ! 


nil  star  gae  bide  .tl 

When  I'm  torn. 

'Come,  in  thy  ravei 


my  Anna, 
umaKB,  night ! 


Snnnlt  tisliii.  (355) 

Tune— TAe  Collier's  Bonnie  Las 
III  saw  je  honnie  Lesley, 
As  she  gaed  owre  Ihe  border  ? 
She's  gaiie,  like  Alesandcr, 

"'    spread  her  conquests  fatthet 


ne 


could  ni 


Uy  trmupotts  wi'  my  A 


Or  aii£:hl  that  wad  belane  (hcei 
He'd  look  into  thy  bonnie  face. 

And  say  "  I  canua  wrang  thee." 
The  jmwers  aboon  will  tent  thee  ; 
__Miafort«ne  aha'  na  steer  thee ; 

1  iie-ei  let  n 
ir  Lesley, 


"When  o'er  the 
And  owsen  frae 


IflE  Tm  Tiijj. 

JNE — 1'Ae  Lea  rig. 
le  hill  (he  eastern  star 


la  miriest  {jlen,  at  jaidnisht  horn; 

Ktliro'  that  glen  [  gaed  to  the^ 

My  ain  kmil  dearie  O. 
Altho'  the  night  were  ne'w  sae  wild. 

And  I  were  iie'ra  sae  vearie  C^ 
TA  meet  thee  on  the  lea-tig, 

My  Bin  land  deuiie  O. 


The  hi 


To  touse  tlie  ranun 


■Gie  me  the  hour  o'  gloai 
To  meet  thee  on  the  lea 


WiU  lit  Ca  ti  tljc  Sn&iis,  mi;  Mflrii.  (358) 

ToKE— Me  EaeJmchti. 
aliore? 


i  auld  Scotia': 


the  apple  OH 


I  hae  awoni  by  the  Hcafens  to  my  Maty, 
I  hae  sworn  by  the  Heavens  to  be  troe; 

When  1  fijrget  my  vow  I 
Oil  plight  me  your  faith,  my  Mary, 
"  id  plight  me  your  hly-white  hiaid  ( 
lig:ht  nie  your  fuiih,  my  Mary, 
fore  I  leave  Seotia'a  ttrand. 

We  hae  pliirhted  oiir  troth,  my  Mary. 

Mirst  be  Ihe  cause  that  shall  part  us  I 


Ho,t,db,  Google 


DTINCAS  GEAT. 


kite's  a  KtinsTOB  Wn  iEIiinfl. 

1  a  winsome  vte  tiling, 
s  handsnme  nee  thing. 


For  feu  my  jevel  tioe. 
On  leae  me  on  ray  wee  I 
My  bonnie  blylhesome  « 
Sae  lar^'e  I  lise  my  vee 
ni  think  my  lot  divine. 


miijlmi  raarn.  (357) 

TCKE—Kaliariiie  Oijie. 
Yb  bsitki,  end  braes,  end  streams  around 

The  emtk  o"  Montgomery, 
Green  be  your  wooifs,  »ud  fair  yonr  flowera 

Your  waters  never  druralie  I 
There  simmer  Hrst  un&illd  her  robes. 

And  there  the  laiif^st  tarry; 
For  there  I  took  the  last  fare«eel 

O'  my  sweet  Highland  Jliiry. 


^d  the  gay  green  hirk. 


IVi'  mony  a  vow,  and  loc 

Our  parting  was  ia'  te 

And,  pledging  afC  to  mec 


But  oh  I  fell  death's 

Tliat  nii)t  my  llowi 
Nouv  green's  the  sod. 

That  wraps  my  Higblmid  ilary 


imely  fros^ 
le  earW ! 


1  aft  hae  kiss'd  sae  fondly ! 
And  cloa'd  for  aye  the  sparkling  glance 
Thatdwelconraesaekiudly; 

■lliat  heart  that  loe'd  me  dearly  1 
But  Btill  within  my  bosom's  cote 
Shall  live  my  Uiglilind  Mary. 


Ml  "Mi  SHonis. 


But,  oh!    she's  an  heiress,  aulii  Kohin's  a 

laird,  [and  yard ; 

And  my  daddie  has  naup:ht  hut  a  cot-houu 

The  wonnds  I  must  hide  that  will  soon  be 


ly  heart  it  wail  burst  in  my 


[bliss, 
Men  my 


Duncan  Gray 
Ha,  lia,  the 


)ingo% 


On  biythe  ' 

Ha,  ha.  tiie  wooing  o't, 
Ma^ie  coost  her  head  fu'  hiQ^h, 
Look'd  a^klent  and  uneo  skeigh, 
Gati  poor  Duncan  stand  abeigh ; 

Ha,  lia,  the  wooing  o't. 

Duncan  Ileech'd,  and  Duncan  pray'd; 

Hb,  ha,  &e. 
Meg  was  deaf  as  Ailsa  Craig, 

Hb.  ha,  &c. 
Duncan  sigh'd  baith  out  and  in. 


Ho,t,db,  Google 


a  hauglity  h 

zaiedie? 

may  gae  to— Fr8i«s  for  me  I 

Ua,  ha,  &c 

vitcomejle 

doctors  tell. 

Ha.  ha.  &c 

»  gre*  sick— 

03  he  grew  heal, 

Ha,  hi,  &C. 

cthiiig  m  l,e 

reiief  a  eigh 

she  brings  ; 

oh.  her  een 

they  Bjeak  aie  t 

Ha,  hB,&o 

J  POETICAL  VOEES. 


There's  braw,  braw  lads  on  Yarrow  hcae 

That  watider  thro'  the  bimmiijg  heathi 
But  YarroB-  braes,  nor  Ettrick  shws, 

Ca»  match  Che  lads  o'  GaU  Water. 
But  there  is  ane,  a  secret  sne, 

Ahoon  them  a'  I  loe  him  better; 
And  111  be  his  and  he'll  be  mine, 

'ITie  bonnie  lad  tf  Gala  Water. 
AlCho'  his  duddie  was  nae  laird, 

Aud  tbo'  1  hEut  na  meikle  tocher; 
Yet  rich  ill  kiodoess,  truest  love. 

We'll  tent  out  flocks  by  Gala  Water. 
It  ne'er  was  wealth,  it  ne'er  was  wealth, 

lliat  cott  contentment,  peace,  or  pleasm 


■eUins  pitj  sn 

iw  they're  CM 

Ha,ha,&o 


^DOiiitl:  Cnnlir. 

Tune— I  had  a  Horse. 
Ob  pooitith  rauld,  and  restless  love 

Ye  wreck  my  peace  between  ye ; 
Yet  poortilh  a'  fcould  forgive, 

Au  'twere  na  for  my  Jeaiiie. 
Oh  why  should  Ate  sic  pleasure  hat 

Life's  dearest  bards  untwining  ? 
Or  why  sae  sweet  a  ttower  as  love, 

Thb  irarld's  wealth  ivhen  I  think  oa 


i  talks  of  rank  and  faihion. 

Oh  why,  &c 
ha  can  prudence  think  upon. 


silly  bogles,  weahl 
Oh  why,  S 


Thebi 
Oh,tb 


iirk  is  this  ruidni^t  hom^ 


Lord  Gregory,  ope  thy  dooi 
lH  eiile  frae  her  father's  ha', 
Aiida'forlovinslhce; 


ly  fund  hi 


or  aye  bt 


dge  uid  TOW 


ItDE 

Hard  is  thy  heart.  Lord  Gregory, 

And  flinty  is  thy  Ijreast : 
Thou  dart  of  heaven  that  flashest  by. 

Oh  wilt  thou  give  ma  rest  I 
Ye  mustering  thunders  from  abote 

But  s|iare  and  pardon  my  fause  loie. 
His  wraugs  to  Heaven  and  me  1 

3Earn  Slirisnii.  (^^9) 


III  Mary,  at  thy  window  be 
It  is  the  Kisli'd,  the  trysted  hour! 

That  make  the  miser's  treasure  poor 


Ho,t,db,  Google 


THE  SOLDIER'S  RETDEH. 


w  blyfliely  wad  I  Iilde  ti 


Yestreen  when 

Tothf 

Tho'  liiis  waa  fair. 

And  yon  the  to 

I  sigh'd,  Bnd  said 


I  left  the  line«  «nd  tenled  field, 
ra  lang  I'd  been  a  lodger, 
nble  knapsack  a'  jny  we^Lh, 
or  boE  houesC  aodger. 


ri'plun 


ither  he 


"Year 
Oh  Mary,  canst  thou  itreck  his  peace, 

Wha  for  thy  sake  wad  gladly  die  ? 
Or  canst  thou  break  that  heart  of  his, 

Whase  only  font  is  loving  tbee? 


lITaniimiia  aSillic, 

Hbre  ewa,  there  awa,  wandering  AVilli^ 
Here  awa,  tliere  awa,  hand  ana  hame  ; 
Come  to  my  bosom,  my  nljt  only  dearie. 
Tell  me  thou  bring'st  me  my  Willie  tiie  same. 
Wintervinds  bleiv  loud  and  cauld  at  oar 

Fears  !or  iny  Willie  brought  tears  in  my  ee; 
Welcome  now  sioiiner   aiid    welcome   ray 

Willie, 
The  sitamer  to  nature,  my  Willie  to  me. 
Best,  ye  wild  etorms,  ia  the  cave  of  your 

How  your  dread  howling  a  lover  al 
Waukcn,  yc  breezes!  row  gently,  y. 
And  waft  my  deiir  laddie  ance  mair  to  my 

Bnt  oh,  if  he's  Mthless,  and  rainda  na  bis 
Nannie, 

But.  dying,  believe  tliat  my  Willie's  my  am  1 

ffJB  $sMn't  ffitlnrn.  (soo) 

AlR—Tlie  mil,  mUl  O. 
Whem  wild  war's  deadly  blait  was  hlawn. 


A  leal,  light  heart  wa 

My  hand  unstain'd 
And  for  fair  Scotia,  liame  agam, 

I  cheery  on  did  wander. 
I  tbonght  upon  the  banks  o'  CdL 

I  thought  upon  my  Nancy  ; 
I  thought  upon  the  witching  sroite 

That  caught  my  youthful  &ncy. 
At  length  I  reach'd  the  bonnie  glea 

Where  early  hfa  I  sported ; 
I  pasa'd  the  mill,  and  trysting  thorn. 

Wliere  Nancy  aft  I  courted : 
Wha  spied  I  hut  my  ain  dear  mad 

Dow.,  by  het  mother's  dwellmgl 
And  turn'd  me  round  to  hide  the  flood 

That  m  my  cei.  was  swelling. 
Wi'  altcea  voice,  quoth  I.  "  Sweet  kas. 

Sweet  as  you  hawthorn's  blossom. 
Oh  1  happy,  happy  may  he  he. 

That's  dearest  to  thy  bosom  1 
My  purse  is  hght,  I've  fai  to  gang, 

A  nd  Mn  would  be  thy  lodger ; 
I've  served  my  king  and  coiuitry  lang- 

Take  pity  on  a  sodget '." 
Sac  wistfully  she  gai'd  on  me, 

Quo'  she,  "  A  aodget  ance  I  loe'il. 
FoT^el  him  shall  I  never; 
ur  humble  cot  and  hamely  fan 
Ye  freely  shall  partake  o't ; 

That  gallar.!  badge,  the  dear  cockade, 


jhe  gpz'd-— she  redden'd  tike  a  roao.— 

iSyi.e  pale  like  oiiy  lily; 
;he  sank  within  my  arms,  and  cried, 

'  By  Him  who  made  yon  sun  and  sky, 

]i  J  whom  true  loie'a  rM;arded, 

— -' '"- latill 


True  lovers  be  rewarded. 
Ttie  wars  are  o'er,  and  I'm  come  hame. 

And  lind  thee  still  true-hearted ! 
Tho'  poor  in  gear,  we're  rich  ui  love. 

And  mair  we're  ne'er  be  parted." 
Quo'  she,  "My  grandsire  left  me  gowd, 

A  mailen  plenisb'd  fturly ; 
And  come,  my  faithfu'  aodger  lad. 

I'hou'rt  welcome  to  it  dearly." 
For  gold  the  merchant  pIo.^he  the  main. 

The  farmer  plo^ighstlie  manor; 
But  glory  is  the  sodger's  priie. 

The  sodger'a  wealth  ii  honour. 


Hooted  by  Google 


BUKHS'S  POEHCAL  WOEKS. 


r  flod|;BT  ne*er  despiae^ 


I  yout  flinty  hearts  enjoy 


And  Willie  it&ma  to  Lo^ai 


SlqillE  ijat  $  bm  nn  ijiiii  iill. 

Tune — lAQgeram  Cash, 
Blythe  hae  I  be«n  on  yon  bill, 

Aa  the  lamba  before  me ; 
Cuelesa  ilka  thought  and  (Ka, 
Aa  the  breeze  flew  o'er  me  : 
I'ljer  sport  and  [ilay. 


Mirth  or 
Lesley  is  si 


letair 


Care  and  anguish  sei«  hm 

Heavy,  heavy  is  the  task. 

Hopeless  love  deckrio^ : 

TrembUng,IdowoochtbQt 

ikw'r 

Sishmg,  drjnh,  despau:ing 

TfsheoinnaeasethethrawK 

In  my  bnsom  sB'elling, 

Undetneath  the  giass-gteen 

od. 

Soon  maun  be  ray  dwellin 

Jngan  Sracs.  (mi) 


Cjr,  flin  iiiq  f  HUE  wiu  i]nn  5Efil  %m\  (3' 

On,  gin  my  love  were  yon  red  loae 


Oh  there,  beyond  eipresaion  bleit 


TiU  fley'd  awa  by  PhiBbua'  l^ht 
Oh,  wore  ray  lore  yon  lilaeh  fiiir, 
Wi'  purple  blossoraa  Co  Che  spring, 


How  I  wad  mourn,  «hen  it 


wild,  aiid  winter  rude ! 
i'  May  its  bloiHa  ceneiT'd. 


nr  thy  flow'ry  h; 


While  my  deer  lad  maun  foce  his  fae^ 
Par,  £«■  frae  me  and  Logon  btaea. 
Again  the  merry  month  o*  May 
Has  mads  out  bills  and  vallies  gay ; 
^e  birds  rejoice  in  leafy  bowers, 

Biythe  morning  lilU  his  rosy  eye. 
And  evening's  teats  are  teats  of  joy: 
My  soul,  delishtJess,  a'  surveys, 
While  WilUe's  far  frae  Logan  braes. 
Within  yon  milk-white  hawthorn  bush, 
Amang  her  nestlings  sits  the  thrush ; 
Her  bithfu'  mate  will  share  her  toil. 


Orwi 


mate  to  help,  nae  mate  to  cheer, 
widow'd  nights  and  joyless  dayi, 


Sflunip  gran.  Oes) 

ras  a  lass,  and  she  was  fair, 


The  fairest  maid  was  bow 
Anil  aye  she  wrought  her  ni 


But  hawks  will  tob  the  tender  joys 


id  love  will  breiik  the  soundest  test 
Young  Robie  was  the  braweat  laJ. 

The  flower  and  pride  of  a'  the  glen; 
And  he  had  o^^'scn,  sheep,  and  kye. 

And  vanton  nuigies  nine  or  ten. 
He  EBed  B  i'  Jeanie  to  Che  tryste. 
And  lang  ere  witless  Jeanie  wist. 


ADOWK  WINDIKa  NITH  I  DID  WANDER.  ! 

1 19  the  blast  npon  my  pste  cheek. 


Tet  wise  Da  what  ber  sil  mi^bt  lie, 
Ot  nhm  wad  idbIl  her  vieel  ugain. 

But  did  ne  Jeanie's  heort  loup  ligh^ 
And  did  na  ioy  blink  ia  her  ee, 

Ae  e'enin  on  the  lily  lea  ? 
Hie  sun  was  sinking  in  the  west. 

The  birds  emg  sweet  in  ilka  grove  j 
His  chee!(  to  heta  he  fondly  prest, 

And  whiaper'd  thus  his  taie  o'  Iot«  i 

Oh,  cinet  thon  think  lo  foncy  me ; 
Or  wilt  thou  leave  thy  maiomie's  cot 

And  leara  tf  tent  the  farms  wi'  me  ? 
At  bam  or  byre  thou  shait  na  drudge. 

Or  naeibing  else  to  trouble  tliee ; 

And  lent  the  wavmg  cum  oi'  me." 
Now  vhM  could  artless  Jeanie  do? 


:. 

t  that  free 
ught  to  m 

e3  the  life  at  my  heart, 
paiiisftae  thee.  Ob! 
setting  behind  (he  white 

enda,'fehe 
■er  trouble 

ng  with  me,  o 
ove,  farewell  1 
them,  iior  thee 

1 
formair 

oh  1" 

hi 

open'd  th 

door,  she  haa 

open'd  it 

b) 

eeshis  pal 
ue  love  1" 
his  side, 
toriieag 

corse  on  the 
he  criei.  and 

plain,  obi 

JBig  a'  l\it  mi 

AlB^Oi  BorniULaawUlyiiaUeiari  Barrack  t 
Oh  ken  ye  wha  Meg  n"  the  Mill  hag  gotten  ? 
And  ten  ye  what  Meg  o'  the  Mill  has 

She  has  gotten  a  coof  wi'  a  claut  o'  siller. 
And  broken  the  heart  o'  th«  barley  Miller. 
The  Miller  was  sttappin',  the  Miller  was 

A  heart  bke  a  lord,  and  a  hue  like  a  lady : 
•nie  Laird  was  a  wiJdiefo',  bleeril  knurl; — 
She's  left  the  guidfelloiv  and  taen  the    '     ' 
The  Millet  he  becht  ber  a  heart  lei 

Tbe  luiiA  did  address  her  wi'  mattei 
A  fine  padiig  hotse  wi'  a  dear  i^ned 
A  whip  by  her  wde,  and  a  honnia  side- 


:r9  as  faithfoT,  and  middens  aa  fair; 
To  equal  young  Jessie  seek  Seotland  all  oserj 
To  equal  yonng  Jessie  you  seek  it  in  vain  t 

And  maidenly  modesty  fixes  the  chain. 

Oh,  fresh  t>  the   rose  in  the    gi^  dewf 

And  sweet  is  the  hly  at  evenii^  close; 


Silirnin  ainiliirj  Jlilji  §  Mil  X0iinte. 

Tune— rie  jKuct/nj  o'  Oeonlie't  Byre, 
AnoivN  winding  Nith  I  did  wander, 


(Stpin  {JK  Snnr  in  IHf,  nl|! 

"OhI  open  the  door,  some  pity  to  sho 
Oh !  open  the  door  to  me,  ob ! 


They  never  wi'  her  can  compare ; 
Whaever  baa  met  wi'  my  Pl.illis, 
Has  met  wi'  the  queen  o'  the  bin. 


..  J,  Google 


BUIUJS'S  POETICAL  WOUKS. 


Hie  daisy  amiia^d  my  fond  ^cy, 
Sa  artless,  30  eimple,  so  wild ; 

ITiou  emblem,  said  I,  o'  my  Phillij, 
For  9he  la  aiiuplicity'a  child. 

The  n»e-biid'9  C1ie  blush  0'  my  chirmer. 

How  taij  and  hnw  pure  is  the  lily. 

But  tkiter  and  purer  her  breast. 
Yon  knot  of  gay  flonera  'm  tile  atbonr. 

They  ne'er  wi'  my  Phillia  can  vie : 
H^  breath  is  (he  breath  o'  the  nDodbine, 

It's  dev-drop  0'  diamond  her  eye^ 
Her  loiee  is  the  son?  of  the  mominir. 

Thatwi 
■When  Phiebus  peep?  ,  ..  ._ — 

On  music,  and  pleasure,  «id  love. 
But,  beauty,  how  frail  and  how  fleetinj 


ro-thes 


Hail  $  i  faun,  {set) 

Tune— KoJiB  Adair. 


There  seek  my  lost  repose, 
Till  grief  my  eyes  should  dose, 

Falaeat  of  womankind,  canst  thou  deelare. 
All  thy  fonii-plighled  vows— fleetiug  aa  ait 

To  thy  new  lover  hie, 

Laugh  o'er  thy  perjury; 

Then  in  thy  bosom  try 


^jlillta  tliE  ^air.  (ses) 

Tune— iMiB  Adair. 

While  larks  with  the  wing, 

Fann'd  the  pure  air, 
lisOng  the  breathing  spring, 

Forth  I  did  fare; 
Gay  the  sun's  golden  eye, 
Pero'd  o'et  the  raountaina  high ; 
Sucii  thy  morn !  did  I  cry, 

Phillis  the  fair. 


In  each  bird's  careless  eouff, 

Gladdidlsharc; 
While  jon  wild  Iloweti  among. 

Chance  led  me  there  1 
Sweet  to  the  opening  day, 
Hosebada  bent  the  dewy  spray ; 
Such  thy  bloom !  did  I  »iy, 

Phillis  the  fair. 
Down  in  a  shady  walk, 

I>ovea  cooing  were ; 

Caiightinasnare; 
So  kind  may  fortune  be, 

He  who  would  injure  thee. 
Phillis  the  fair. 


iq  ailflit  stream  9  ijiJinr'fr  fir  I 

Tvss—AlUm  Water. 


'Ihe  yellow  cora  wus  wai  ing  n 
And  thought  on  youthfu'  plea; 


How  chewy  ibro'  her  shorti 

But  can  thej  melt  the  glow 

Or  chain  tlie  soul  in  sped 

Or  thro'  each  nerte  the  rap 


Sday, 
.        DW! 


Cam  hi  mi  ialiE  Cjiit  in  iiiii  S 

&IB— CshU  Kail. 
CouB,  let  me  take  thee  to  my  hrea: 


ITie  V 


Hosted  by  Google 


BEHOLD  THE  HODE. 
When  day,  ei; 


I-Uiumetgyou, 
t,  when  ye  come 
iiless  the  biick-je 


Biit  ateal  me  i 
Yet  look  BB  it 


JDnintu  Huh.   (357) 

TvtIE—Lamtj/  Davie. 


Meet  me  on  the  warlock  1 
Daincj'  Davie,  dainty  U 

There  111  spend  the  day  i 
My  aiii  dear  dainty  l)v 


A-wandeiing  »i'  my  Davie, 
When  purple  morning  starts  the  hap^ 
To  Bieal  upon  her  early  fcre. 
Then  thro'  the  dews  I  will  repair. 

To  meet  n^  ^thfa'  Davie. 


ffiriicc's  !iltiilres5.  (3^8) 

Tvne—Hes  Titllk  Taittie. 
TS,  wha  hae  wi'  Wallace  bled, 
come  to  your  gory  hed, 

I's  the  iJay,  and  now's  the  hont; 

tlie  front  o'boMIe  lour; 

approach  proud  Edward's  ]»wer— 

hoiDS  and  slavery  1 

1  will  bea  traitor  knave? 

1  CBn  BU  a  coward's  grave  t 

a  for  Scotland's  kin^  and  bw 
^dom's  sword  will  strongly  draw, 
rinim  stand,  or  Freeaian  fc', 

oppression's  woes  atid  pains  I 


Stlialtl  fllE  J3aiir,  (3CDJ 
Tune— 0™i  Gaoil. 
HOLD  the  hfjur,  the  boat  arrive ; 
Miougoest,  thou  darling  of  my  lies 
er 'd  from  thee,  can  I  ennive  ? 
lilt  fate  has  will'd,  and  we  must  pa 
often  greet  this  surging  swell. 


iwell; 


Along 


leciy. 


f  Across  the  roiling, 

i      II)  westwud  tnm  nty  wistful  eye ; 

Happy  thou  Indian  grove,  I'll  aay. 
Where  now  my  Nancy's  path  may  be  I 

While  thro'  thy  sweets  ahe  loves  to  stray, 
I     Oh,  tell  me,  does  she  muse  dq  ntel 


Ho,t,db,  Google 


anltr  lanj  $nm. 

BHODtn  auld  acquaintance  be  forgo^ 


BUBira'S  POETICAL  WOSKS. 

t^SR  last  ttit 


Aud  pn'd  the  gowans  line ; 
But  vefve  wandered  mouy  a  wearj  foot, 

Bin  auid  lai^  sjne. 
We  twa  lue  paidl't  i'  the  burn. 


&a  suM  teiig  syne. 
And  bere'a  a  band,  my  trusty  hero, 

And  ^c'a  a  hand  o'  tliiue ; 
Aud  we'll  tak  B  right  guid  willie-waiij 

For  aidd  laiig  lyaa. 


5B||tn  an  ijiESnus? 

TuJiB— Sow  ye  ms/atlier! 


That  diiio'd  to  the  lark's  early  Bonj  ? 
Where  is  the  peace  that  aivaiied  my  waiid'tii 

At  ETcnuii;  tlie  wild  woods  among  ? 
No  more  a-winding  the  course  of  yon  rivei 


the   li^'ht   fool 


Ko, 


And  erini  surly  winter  ia  near  ? 
),  no  f  the  bees  humming  roam 


id  the  gay 


Frod^m  it  the  priie  of  the  year. 
Fam  would  I  hide  what  1  fear  to  discover, 

Yet  king,  h)ng  too  well  liavs  I  known. 
All  that  haa  caused  this  wreck  in  my  bosDin, 

la  Jenny,  fair  Jenny  alone. 
15me  cannot  ud  me,  my  g;rieti  are  immortal. 

Nor  hope  dare  a  comibrt  hestow : 
Come   then,   enamour'd   and  food   of  my 

ICnjoiiuon't  III  acet  in  my  woe. 


(£rar. 

)u  hast  left 
only  should 


e,  thou 


JasE—Tke  CoUiei's  Bosn 
ELcnBD  swain,  the  pleasure 


The  clouds'  unci 


Despise  the  silly  creature 

Go,  find  an  honest  felbw '. 

Good  clatet  set  before  tlu 


^m  3  am,  mq  Jfaitjiful  Jfait. 

Tune— i^i/erom  Cosh  [the  Quakei't  wife]. 
Thine  am  !,  my  f^thful  fair. 

Thine,  my  loiely  Nancy ; 
Ev'ry  pulse  along  roy  vcana, 

Ev"^  roving  fancy. 
To  thy  boaotn  lay  my  heart. 

There  to  throb  and  languish! 
Tho'  despar  had  wrung  its  core. 

That  would  heaJ  its  anguiah. 

..,  Google 


ON  THE  SEAS  AND  FAK  A¥AT. 


Take  ttWttj  these  rosy  lips, 

Tis  not  Maria's  whispering  call  ; 

Ri*  with  balcay  treasure ; 

Tis  but  the  balmy -breathing  gale. 

Turn  awiy  thine  eyes  of  love. 

Mii'd  with  some  warbler's  dying  fall. 

Lest  I  die  with  pleosute. 

The  dewy  stars  of  eve  to  h^L 

What  is  life  w)«n  ynntm^  l"™? 

It  is  Maria's  Toice  I  hear!- 

Night  without  a  morning: 

So  calls  the  woodlark  in  the  grove, 

Lore's  the  cloudless  summer  sun. 

His  tittle  bithful  male  to  cheer  1 

NUuce  gay  adomiog. 

At  once  'tis  mu«c  and  tis  love. 

And  art  thou  cnme  '—and  art  thou  true  ? 

Ob  welcome,  dear'  to  love  wd  me 

Kn  ?pnit!p,  jUanrn. 

Tune— ilfjj  Jo  Ja«el. 

Along  the  flowery  banks  of  Cree. 

"HtrSBiWD,  husband,  csase  your  strife. 

Nor  longer  idly  rave,  air; 

TW  I  am  your  wedded  wife, 
Yet  I  am  not  yout  skve,  sir." 

(£)a  Itj!  sm  mi  fu  Staaq. 

"One  of  ts'o  must  still  obey. 

Tvna—O'erlhe  hills,  ^. 

Nancy,  Nai.cy; 

How  can  my  poor  heart  be  glad. 

I.  it  man,  or  woman,  say. 

When  abseiit  from  my  sailor  kd  ? 

My  epouae,  Nancy  r 

How  can  I  the  thought  forego, 

"IfOsstm  the  lordly  word. 
Service  and  obedience  ; 

He's  on  the  seas  to  meet  the  foe  ? 
Let  me  wander,  let  me  rove. 

I'll  desert  my  sov'reign  lord, 
And  10  good-bje  alle^iauce  1" 

Nighily  dSmJi'a^d  th"^hu  by  dny 
Are  with  him  that's  tat  away. 

"Sad  will  I  be,  so  bereft. 

Nancy,  Nancy, 

Yetlllttytouiakeashift, 

On  the  seaa  and  be  away. 

Mj  «poiiae,  Nancy." 

On  stormy  seas  ai>d  fiir  away ; 

"My  poor  heart  then  break  it  must, 

Nightly  dreams  and  thousthla  by  day 

My  last  hour  I'm  near  it: 

Are  aye  with  liim  that's  far  away. 

Wlien  you  lay  me  ui  the  dust. 

When  in  Bummer's  noon  I  fant, 

Hunt,  thint  how  you  «iU  bear  it." 

As  weary  flacks  atoimd  me  pant. 

"I  will  hope  and  trust  in  heaven. 

Haply  in  .he  scorching  sun 

Naiicy.  Nancy, 
Strength  to  bear  it  will  he  given. 

My  sailor's  thund'niig  at  his  gun; 
Bullets  spare  my  only  joy ', 
Bullets,  spare  my  dathng boy! 
Fate,  do  with  me  what  you  may. 

My  spouse,  Nancy." 

"Well,  air,  from  the  silent  dead. 

Spare  but  him  that's  far  away ! 

8tiani  try  to  daunt  vou; 
Evet  TDnnd  your  midnixlit  bed 
Horrid  sprites  slall  liaunt  you." 

At  the  starless  midnight  hour. 

When  winter  rules  with  bouudleaa  power; 

As  the  atorma  the  forest  tear. 

-I'll  wed  another  like  my  dear, 

And  thunders  rend  the  howling  air. 

Nancy,  Nancy; 

Listening  to  the  doubling  roar. 

llien  all  helt  will  By  for  fear. 

Suiting  on  the  rocky  shore, 

My  sponse,  Nancy," 

All  1  can— I  weep  and  pray. 

For  his  wealthafa  far  away. 

Peace,  thy  olive  wand  eitend. 

2|!  $anl!5  nf  te. 

And  bid  wild  war  his  ravage  en* 
Man  with  brother  man  to  meet. 

TuHB— Tie  Baaka  of  Cres. 

And  aa  a  brotlier  kindly  greet : 

Hbrb  Is  the  glen,  and  here  the  bower. 

FiU  my  sailor's  welcome  sails. 

rhe  village Jjell  has  toll'd  the  hour. 

To  mj  arms  their  chai^  convey. 

Oh,  what  can  stay  my  lovely  mmd? 

My  dear  bd  that's  fcr  away. 

Ho,t,db,  Google 


EXmUS'S  POETICAL  ■WORKS. 


Si'  lilt  ^ 
CA'tlie  yi 


a  fn  lliB  'SnnDJEJ, 


!  to  the  knowes. 
re  the  lieathef  g 
re  the  buiiiie  to 


Hark  the  ma™'  evening  sung 
Sounding  Cloaden's  woods  amang; 
Then  a-feuldiug  let  us  png, 

Well  gie  down  b;  Clouden  side 
Thro'  the  luueh  spreading  wide. 
O'er  the  waves  that  sweetly  glide 

To  the  moou  aae  clearly. 
Yonder  Cloaden's  rilent  toirers. 
Where  at  mooiiaMue,  midnight  houra. 
O'er  the  deivy  hending  flowers, 

Fiuriea  dauce  sae  cheery. 

ThouW  to  love  and  heaven  sae  d'ear. 


While  dav  hlinks  i 
Till  clay-cauld  deal 


I  satjs  sjiE  f  Brs  iriB  Scst  jrf  S'. 

Tune— OxayS's  Lock. 


8am  flmsen  were  her  ringlets, 
Her  eyebrows  of  a  darker  iae, 

Bewitchingly  o'er-arching 
Twa  laughing  een  o'  boi 

Would  make  a  wtel^  forget  hia  woe 
What  pleasure,  what  treasure. 

Unto  these  rosy  lips  to  grow  ■. 
Buch  was  my  Chloris'  honuie  fece. 

When  first  her  honuie  face  I  sit. 
And  aye  my  Chloris'  dearest  charm, 

like  harmony  lier  motion ; 

Her  pretty  aiicle  is  a  spy 
Betraying  fair  proportion. 

Wad  moke  a  samt  forget  the  sliy. 
Eaewari]iiDg,SAe  charming, 

~    ~  '  4S  form  and  graceful  air ; 


Let  01 


re  the  wilUng  ch 
mqnering  heaul. 
fe  my  Chloris'  dearest  cliatm, 
says  she  loes  me  he-  -'-' 
rs  love  the  city. 


III  gaudy  it 
Gie  me  the  lonely  valley. 

The  deny  eve,  and  nsing  moon 
Fair  beaming,  and  streaming, 

Her  silver  light  the  boughs  am 
While  fallhig,  recalling, 

The  anrorons  thrush  concludes 
There,  dearest  Chloris,  wilt  thou 

£y  wimpling  burn  and  leafy  si 
Ai.d  heat  my  vows  o'  truth  iuid  1, 


Tube— H^e«  aki  cam  ten  she  boiba. 
On,  saw  ye  my  dear,  my  Phillyf 
Oh,  saw  ye  my  dear,  my  Philly  ? 
She's  down  i'  the  grove,  she's  wi'  a  new  love 


.  thee  to  wit  that  she  has  thee  foi^ 
for  eve^r  disowns  thee,  her  Willy. 
I  ne'er  seen  thee,  my  Philly  1 
I  ne'er  seen  tliee,  my  Philly ! 

's  broken  the  heart  o'  tby  Willy. 


Inns  anil  JDrraiii  is  iljc  ^igjit 

(370) 
'd  kail  in  Aherdten. 


Tu: 


How  long  and  dreary  is  the  nigh 
When  I  am  frae  my  dearie  ? 

1  restless  lie  frae  e'en  to  mom, 
■Ilio'  I  we're  ne'er  sae  weary. 

For  oh !  her  lanely  nights  ai 

And  oh !  her  widow'd  heart 

That's  absent  frae  her  dea 

When  I  think  on  the  bghtsome  d 


■  Blow  ye  move,  ye  heavy  hoars  I 
le  joyless  day,  how  dreary  1 
as  na  sae  ye  glinted  by. 


Ho,t,db,  Google 


AULD  ROBIN    "G"RAY 


Hosted  by  Google 


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FAEEWELL  THOU  STREA5I  THAT  WrSDKG  FLOWS. 
Ittt  net  ^SnnTHit  j'rr  fninpUii 

Tune— BuHcra  Croj. 


Let  not  womui  e'ei  coiopb 

Fickle  nan  n  apt  to  ro\ 

lAOk  ibroad  through  NaCt 


Why  then  ask  of  silly  m 
To  oppose  great  Nniure' 
WeTl  be  coiistwit  while 


Slrtp'st  ffjrnn,  nc  Wsk'si  Jjiniif  (sii) 

Tune — Deil  lak  Ike  umis. 
Bleef'st  thon.  or  nnk'st  thon,  feirest  ecea- 

Rosy  moru  now  lifts  hii  eye,  [t 

Numbering  ttka  bud,  which  Nalure 

Watonwi' the  tears  o- joy; 

Noff  thro'  the  leafy  woods. 

And  by  the  reekiug  floods, 
■mid  Nature's  teuanti,  fteelv,  pkitly  at 

The  liiitffhite  in  his  boner 

Chants  o'er  the  broithiuc  floner, 

I'ha  Uv'rock  to  the  sky 

Ascends  wi'  saiigs  o'  joy, 


When  absent  from  m 

mie  murky  shades  o' 

With  starless  gloom  u'e 


When  through  my  very  iieart 
Her  beamiii);  glories  dart, 
■Ha  then  1  wake  lo  life,  lo  li-ht,  and  Joy. 

iKi]  €\)hm,  marlt  Ijnm  &mn  tirt  (Enraia. 

Tune — il/y  loJi/iiig  is  on  the  cold  gnaoid. 
My  Chloris,  mark  how  grceii  the  erovea. 

The  primrose 

The  balmy  gales 


If.  thy  Bi 


lordly  hghted  hi 
licpherd  stops  h 


%i  msi  \\t  Cliarniiiig  JHniitli  nf  ffinq. 
(S7;;) 

TiTNE— BaiHly  Dfluie. 
It  was  the  charming  month  of  May, 

I  all  the  fluw'rs  n  ere  fresh  and  giy, 
loroing,  by  the  break  of  day, 
:  youth  rul,  charming  Chloc, — 
Fpsm  peacel'id  slumber  slie  arose, 
"  iri  on  bet  mantle  and  her  hose, 
nd  o'er  the  flow'ry  mead  slie  guea>— 
The  youthful,  chinniug  Chloe. 

Loyely  was  she  by  the  dawn, 

Youthfal  Chloe,  ehorm.ng  Chloe. 
Tripping  o'er  tlie  pearly  lawn. 


Esofaw 


They  hail  the  charm 
Till,  painting  gay  the  eaaiem  suei, 
The  glonuuB  sun  began  to  nse, 
Out-rivall'd  by  the  radiimt  eyes 

Of  youthful,  chacmipg  Chios. 
Lovely  inu  ah^  &c, 

SixtmW,  i\n  sirpHin  tjioi  Uiinillnj 

floras. 

Tune — Smq/'a  to  the  gnetmood  jane. 
FAB.EIVEJ.L,  thou  stream  Uiat  winding  tlowB 
und  EUsa's  dwelling ! 
™'ry  I  spare  theccuel  throes 
.hiu  my  bosom  twelliug ; 


Ho,t,db,  Google 


233 


DUENS'S  POETICAL  WOEKS. 
dm^  B  hopeless  duio. 


Condcmn'd 

To  fed  a  flre  in  Bv'ry  veiii. 

Nor  dnre  diacloee  jay  ang:uis1i. 
Love's  veriest  wretch,  unseen,  nokmnm. 


ouldcc 


tinggroui. 


IkoowthonduoDi 

Nor  wUl,  nor  en 
But,  oh !  ElitB,  hear  one  pni;'er. 

For  pity'a  sake,  forgive  me  I 
The  music  of  fky  voice  I  heiird. 

Nor  wist  while  it  enslaved  me  j 
I  a™  thine  eyea,  j-et  iiotliine  fea^d, 

Th'  unwary  snilor  tlm»  ^he^l, 

*Afid  rarding  horrora  ainla  at  iast 
In  averwhehniaK  ruin. 


And  a'  is  young  and  sveeC  Iiiic 


Has  chcer'd  ilk  drooping  litcle  Sower. 
Well  to  the  breatliing  woodbine  bower 

At  »ii]try  noon,  my  dearie  O. 

lAssie  wi'  Che  lint-white  kicks,  &e. 
"Vnien  Cynthia  lighta,  wi'  ailver  ray, 
The  weary  sbearer'a  hameward  way, 
Tbco"  yellow  waving  fields  we'll  stray, 

And  talk  o'  love,  my  dearie  O. 

Lassie  wi'  the  lint-white  tocka,  Ssc 
And  when  the  howling  wintry  lilait 
Diatnrbs  my  lasMe's  midnight  rest. 
Enclasped  to  my  laithful  breast, 

111  comfort  thee,  my  dearie  O. 


Oh  Philly,  happy  be  that  diy 
When  roving  through  tiie  guther'd  liay. 
My  youtlifu'  heart  wis  stown  away. 
And  by  thy  chirius,  uiy  Fliilly. 


Oh  Willy,  aye  I  bless  the  grove 

Where  tirst  I  own'd  my  m'aiden 

Whilst  thou  diiiat  pled^ie  the  pc 

I'o  be  my  am  dear  Willy. 

As  songsters  otthe  early  year 
Are  ilka  day  mair  sweet  to  hear. 

And  charming  is  my  FliiUy. 


lear  my  Willy. 
I  and  bluer  sky. 


The  little  swallow's 


e  in  the  dewy  wi 
i  V  Willy. 


Let  fortune's 
And  fools  ms 
My  thoughts 


a"  the  joys  that  goii 
ae  wealth  a  single  Hi 
I  love's  the  lad  for 


Cnntrnipir  mi'  Xi!ll(. 

'[vsE— Lumps  o'  Padding, 


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MY"  NASNIE'S  4WA. 


I  vhtles   dso  (he  elbov  a 


Lj  freedom^a  my  loirdahip  oae  zddu 
ire  touch. 
nODd  o'  trouble,  should  that  be  m 


et  thiuks  o'  the  road  Ce  hss 


-"  Welcome,  and  welcomi 


Catt'st  tdna  Emhe  mi  Sjins,  mq  Ualq, 

(373) 
Tune— Boy's  fRfe. 

Cahst  thou  leave  me  thus,  my  Katy? 

Canst  chou  leave  me  thus,  my  Katy? 

W«H  thoo  know'at  my  achiiig  heart, 

And  Huiat  i)iuu  leave  loe  thus  for  pity? 
la  this  thy  pliglited,  fond  regard, 

"(■has  cruelj  x<>  part,  my  Katy  ? 
Is  this  thy  £ii[lifu]  susiu's  rewanl— 

Au  ot'lun^,  brokea  heart,  my  Katy? 
Tsrevelll  stid  ne'er  snch  aorrowa  (cor 

Ihat  tickle  htan  of  thine,  my  Katy ! 
Thon        ■  —    '- ■       • 


Sutuc 


id  itaost 
a  love  hke  mine,  my  Katy. 


fm  a'  Sjiat,  null  a'  Ijiaf. 

la  there,  for  honest  poverty, 

Tliat  banss  his  head,  and  n'  that? 


We  dare  bs 


For  a' 


and  a'  that, 


tliit, 


.'a  obscure, 
The  nuik  is  but  the  guinea's  ata 

The  man's  the  gaud  fur  a'  the 
■What  tho'  on  hamely  Bire  we  di 

Wear  hoddin  jirey,  and  a'  tha 
Gie  foobi  their  silks,  and  knaves 


His  nband,  star,  and  a"  that, 
Tlie  man  of  independent  mind. 


Fori' that,  and  a' that, 
Tliepitho^sense^andpi 
Then  let  us^y  that  CO 


a  belted  kntgh^ 
in's  aboan  his  might. 


51!il  Siainiit's  3dji. 

IE— Ticre'llneiierii:  peace, 
I  her  green  mantle  blythi 


thel 


The  5 


0'  the  grey 


.e  the  dews  of 
[dawn. 


And  ttn>i 

niglil-fa', 

Give  over  for  pity— my  Nannie's  awa. 
Come,  autumn,  sae  pensive,  in  yellow  and 


Hie  dark,  ( 
Alanecani 


w  Nannii 


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BUENS'S  POETICAL  ■WORKS. 
Jl^rnigirbuni  ^Pnoii.   (375) 

Tune — Oraipiebum  wood. 


n  and  ^preadin^  trees, 
ail'  wigbt  can  please 


Thst  round  the  pathless  \\i 
That's  tniated  faitldeaa  i 


It  deck'd  the  ui^ad. 


But  secret  love  nill  break  my  heart. 

If  I  conceal  it  lai^er. 
It  thou  refuse  to,  nit;  me. 

If  thou  Shalt  love  Buither, 
Whm  yon  green  le»vea  fsde  frae  the  tree, 

Around  my  gtave  they'll  wither.  (376) 


iUmi  iH  ti!E  ftJnaiiiarli. 

JvnE—Wliere'U  iomiie  Ann  lie  /   or, 


(fi^'Iflssif  art  t&Dn  ^Iffpiag  ijrf? 

Tvsz—Lel  me  t»  thU  sue  Night. 
Oa  lassie  art  thou  sleeijing  yet  ? 
Oc  irl  thou  nekiu',  I  would  nit  ? 
For  love  bas  bound  me  hand  and  fbo^ 


Aod  I  would  fit 


Oh  let  me  m  t 
This  uie,  an 
For  pity's  sake  luis  aiie  iiii 
Ohn9eiLidletmeifl,j< 
Thau  hear'st  the  winter  wind  s 
N»e  >tu  blinks  thro'  the  drivii 
Tak  pity  on  my  weary  feet. 

And  shield  me  free  the  rain. 

The  hitter  bhist  tlist  round  me 

Unheeded  howls,  nnhecded  fa's 

The  canldness  o'  thy  heart's  thi 

Of  h'  my  grief  and  pain,  jo. 


night, 
light  f 


Iha  kills  rae  wi'  diftdaiuing. 

was  thy  little  mate  unkind. 

Oh  t  Docht  bat  love  and  sorrow  joia'd. 


O*  speechless  grief,  find  diirk  desplur ; 


tfiji  £!]Ictis  Iiciiig  ^11. 


Oh  ten  na  me  0-  wind  and  ra 
Upbrud  na  me  wi'  cauld  disil 
Gee  back  the  gait  ye  cam  aga 


,  J,  Google 


OH  THIS  IS  KO  MY  AM  LASSIE. 


Wit  &:wH  a'  mni  Mv,dk. 

Tune— J/"mo^«  of  GUb. 

The™  grovea  o'  sweet  myrtle  let  fortig 

laiida  reckon,  [petfunif 

Wlicre  b  tight-beaming  summers  eialt  the 

Far  Jearer  lo  me  yun  lono  gleii  o'  greei 

breckan,  [broom 

Wi'the  bum  stealing  under  the  langyeUov 

Far  dearer  to  nie   are  yon  humble  broon 

bowers.  rnnseen 

^Vhere  the  blue-hell  andgowan  lurk  loivly 

For  there,  lightly  trijlping  aroaiig  the  wild 

[JeaH. 


Tho'  rich  ia 


,  aft  V 

a  tbeit  gay  31 


And  ciulil  Caledonia's  blast  Dn  the  wave ; 
le^r  aweet-sceiiLed  woodlanda  that  sltirC  t^ 
proud  palace,  [and  sla^ 

WlialaretUey?— the  haunt  of  the  tyri 
le  slate's  spicy  foresta,  sod  gold-bubbling 
The  brave  Caledonian  views  wi'  disdain ; 


'iiiiiia5  u  pt  Snnnic  Slot  fit  ma 
niij  IRuiu. 

ToNK— -iuilrfa,  lie  ntarmt. 
'TwAS  na  her  boniiie  blue  ee  waamy  ruin; 

"I'was  the  dear  smile   when  naeboiiy  did 
mind  us,  [0'  lundneaa. 

Sair  do  I  fear  that  to  hope  is  denied  me, 
Sair  do  I  fear  tliot  despair  maun  alude  uM  | 
But  tho'  fell  fortune  should  lute  ua  to  sevcz, 
Queen  shall  she  he  in  my  bosom  for  ever. 
Mary,  I'm  Chine  wi'  a  passion  sineereat, 
And  thou  hast  plight^  me  love  the  deareal  I 

Soouer  tbe  um  in  bis  motion  would  falter. 


TUNB— Dsif  In*  Ihe  Wars. 
Mark  yonder  pomp  of  eostly  fiisluon, 
Rouud  the  wealthy,  titled  bride: 
iot  when  compar'd  with  real  passioiU 
Poor  is  all  that  princely  pride. 
What  are  the  showy  treasures  ? 
IVhat  are  the  noisy  pleasures  ? 

-'-  glare  of  vanity  and  art: 


Ihe  gay  gaudy  glare  of  vanity 
The  polish'd  jewel's  blaie 


villiog  fetters — the  chains  1 


Smn  £ll(ll  Ett  tjjt  '^r  ill. 


Tune — Jaha  Anderion  mg  Jo, 
How  cruel  are  the  parRnts^ 

Who  riches  only  priae  ; 
And  to  the  wealthy  booby. 

Meanwhile  the  hapless  daoghler 

Has  but  a  choice  of  atrilc  ; — 

To  shuH  a  tyraut  father's  bate, 


wond'ring  gaie, 
And  courtly  grandeur  bright 
The  fiincy  may  delight, 
ut  never,  never  can  come  near  the  heart 

1/ively  as  yonder  sweet  op'ning  flower  ia. 
Shrinking  from  the  gaie  of  day. 


His  worsb^p'^deity,  ™' 
\nd  feel  thro'  ev'ry  vein  Love's  riptnrei  ro 


iCIj  lliia  is  tin  mii  Sin  lEaisii, 

Tune— TAij  is  «o  my  nin  Ilaaie. 


Oh  this  is  no  my  am  lassie. 
Fair  tho' the  lassie  be! 

Oh  weel  ken  I  my  ain  lasaje, 
Kind  love  is  iu  her  ee. 


Ho,t,db,  Google 


BCESS'S  POETICAL  WORKS, 


She')  bono 


,blooi 


id  long  has  lu 
And  aje  it  charms  my  very  saul. 

The  kind  love  that's  in  het  ee. 
A  thief  sue  pnwkie  ia  my  leaa, 
"■-    --■  -  blink,  by  a' 


lovei 


It  miiy  escape  the  cniirtly 
It  may  escape  the  li'^vned 


II  SoiiULf  ms  unn  Unsi]  Srier. 


It  ahaded  fcae  the  e'l 

Yon  rosebuds  in  the  m 

Hniv  pure  aniaug  thf 


Um  spriiij  Ijas  £l:ii  tljE  i^raiit  in  §mu. 

(377) 
Mow  spring  hns  clad  the  f 

And  airew'd  the  lea  v/i' 
^n«fiirrQw'd,wa.inKcorn 

Bq'aice  m  fbsterin);  slio' 
While  ilka  thmg  in  natnre 

Th^  sorrows  to  forego. 
Oh  why  thus  all  llone  are 

The  neuy  steps  of  woe 


The  pathless  wild  «< 
Wi'  Chloris  in  mv 
nd  I  the  world,  no 


sweet  and  ftiir  j 
pling  bnrn. 


(fotlDrn  mil  S^sd^.  "tr  Cmtsd  max. 

rvSB—Lel  me  in  this  ave  Night. 


Far,  fat  fram  thee,  the  f 


Which,  save  the  luiuei's  flight,  I  not, 
Nae  ruder  ™it  knows. 

And  blighted  n'  my  bloom. 
And  now  beneath  the  with'ting  blast 

My  youlh  and  joy  consume. 
The  woken'd  lav'rocS  nirblii^  springs, 

Aud  climbs  the  early  sky, 
TVimiowiug  hlythe  her  dewy  wings 

In  morniug's  rosy  eye. 
.Aa  little  reck'd  I  sortow's  power. 

Until  the  flowery  snare 
O*  nitcbitig  love,  in  luckless  honr. 

Mode  me  the  thrsU  a'  care. 
Oh,  hid  my  fate  been  Greenland  snows. 

Or  Afric's  burning  sone, 
Wi'  man  and  nature  iesgu'd  my  foes, 

So  Peggy  ne'er  I'd  known  I 


ff  kindly  tlioii  wouMst  cheet  m^ 
L,nd  mingle  aigba  with  miu^  love, 
id  me  scowls  a  wintry  sky, 
jlasCB  aidh  bud  of  hope  and  joy; 

e  m  those  arms  of  thine,  love. 
CoU,  alter'd  friendihiii's  crud  part, 
To  poison  fortune's  ruthless  dart— 
^  ■     e  not  tireak  thy  faithful  heaf^ 


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AWA  wi'  joiir  "itchcraft  o'  beauty's  alarms, 
The  Bleiiikt  bit  btauty  jou  Kti'P  '"  y"' 

Oh,  gie  Die  tlie  kss  »['  the  weeUtotkit  farms, 


Then  hey  for  a  lass  wi'  t  todier,  then  h 

Then  bey  for  a  lass  aV  a  tocher— the  ni 
yellow  guineas  lot  me. 


lit  spring  they're  new  deckit  wi  hnnnie  wJiite 

And  e'en  when  this  hesuty  your  bosom  has 

blest,  [possest ; 

The   brigbtest   o'   beauty   may  cloy  wbeii 


STast  mn  a  SGroiu  ^Wiiiirt. 

■tvNB—riie  Lothao.  Liaaie. 
^.^ay 

I  siiid  there  was  naething  1  liateil  like  men— 
The  deuce  gae  wi'm  tu  bdievn  me,  believe 

The  deuce  gae  wi'm  to  believe  me. 
He  spaK  n'  the  darts  o'  mybunnie  black  een. 

And  vow'd  for  my  !oye  be  waa  djinfr ; 
I  said  he  miicht  die  nheii  be  liked  for  J  ca 


But  tliouKht  I  mljjbt  hae  «aur  ofle 

waur  offers. 
But  though!  I  might  hoe  wanr  offers. 


riie  ilcil  tak  his  taste  Co  gae  nent  her  I 
!  up  the  bug   loau  to  my   black  couan 
Bess  (3781,  [could  bear  hei. 

Guess  ye  how,  the  jad  I  t  could  bear  her. 
Guess  ye  how,  tha  jad  I  I  could  bear  her. 


Unt  a'  the  niest  week  as  I  fretted  wi'  carB, 

I  gaed  to  the  tryste  o'  Dalgarnoek, 
And  ff  ha  but  ray  fine  fickle  lover  was  there  t 

I  glowr'd  as  I'd  se«i  a  warlock. 
But  owre  my  left  shouthcr  I  gae  him  a  blink. 

Lest  iieibors  might  say  I  was  saaey ; 
My  wooer  he  caper'd  as  he'd  been  in  drink. 

And  vow'd  I  WB8  hia  den   lasiJe.    dear 

And  vow'd  I  was  his  dear  lassie. 
I  sviiet'd  formy  eonain  fn'  conthy  and  aweet. 


>n  fit  her  auld  shacbt't 


He  beKJ.'eil,  for  gnidsake,  I  wad  be  his  wifi 
So  e  eu  to  prescne  the  poor  body  in  life. 


^insnimi. 

Whv,  why  tell  th./ love/, 

BHas  he  never  must  enjoy? 
^Vby^  why  unilcceive  him. 

And  give  uU  hia  hopes  the  lie  ? 
Oh  whv,  while  fancy,  raptiir'd,  alumhers, 

Cblorif,  Chloris  aJI  the  theme, 
Mliy,  why  wonldat  tbon  cruel, 


Hrri^'s  a  health  to  ane  1  loe  dew  ( 
Here's  a  health  to  sue  I  loe  dear !        [meet 
Thoii  art  sweecaathearailcivlien  fond  lover's 
And  salt  as  thcii  par^ig  tear — Jessyi 
Altho'  thou  maun  never  be  mine, 

Altho'  even  hoiw  is  denied: 
'lis  sweeter  for  thee  deapsiring, 

Then  aught  iu  tlie  world  beside — Jen;  I 
I  mourn  thro'  the  gay,  gaudy  day. 

As  hopeless,  I  muse  on  thy  chunns ; 

But  welcome  the  dream  o'  sweet  siamher. 

Forth™  lam  kwk't  in  thy  arnis—Jeaiyi 


Hosted  by  Google 


I  g«es»  by  the  dfiw  mgel  BmUe, 


S  POETICAL  WORKS. 


FaibkSt  maid  on  Devon  'bBnlia, 
Crystal  Devon,  winding  Deron, 

Will  thou  lay  that  frown  asidi^ 
And  smile  as  thoii  were  wont  to  d 


Those  wonted  smiles,  oh  le 


And  whi) 

III  lov. 

£a  bonni 


SaaJrwiB  31rll.  (380) 

[lov'dabonnielasa, 

1 1  love  her  still ; 

it  that  honour  watma  my  breast. 


A  bonuie  lass,  I  will  confesi. 

Is  pleosont  to  theee, 
But  without  some  better  qnalitiea, 

Bnt  Nelty-9  looks  are  biytlie  and  sweet. 

And,  what  is  best  of  a', 
Her  reputation  is  complete, 

Slie  dresses  aye  sae  clean  and  nrat. 

Both  dcceut  aud  genteel : 
And  then  there's  eomething  in  her  gait 

Gui  ony  dress  look  weeL 


Tis  this  in  Neliy  pleaiea  me, 
Tis  this  enclwnts  iny  soul; 

For  absolutely  in  my  breast 
She  leigas  without  contial. 


/armtt.  (381) 

nd  An  thmle,  O. 

My  falhet  was  a  farmer  upon  the  Cimick 

border,  O,  [order,  O; 

And  earefully  he  bred  me  in  decenfy  and 

lie  bade  me  act  a  manly  part,  though  I  had 

ne'er  a  farthing,  0  ; 
For  witlioot  an  lionest  manly  heart,  uo  man 
was  worth  regarding,  O. 

world,  my  course  I  did 


Tho'i 


e,0; 


ts  they  were  not  the  wi 


Then  sore 
toriui 

But  the  p 


Thus  all  obacare,  luiknown,  and  poor,  thro" 
life  I'm  doom'd  to  wander,  O, 

■m  down  my  weary  bones  1  lay,  in  everlas- 
ting slumber,  O. 

No  view  nor  care,  bnt  shun  wb^tCer  might 
breei)  me  pain  or  sorrow,  0 '. 

But  cheerful  still,  I  am  as  well,  as  a  monan:h 

in  a  palace,  O, 
Tho'  foitnne'a  frown  sfill  hunts  me  down, 

with  all  her  wonted  millce,  O  : 
I  make  indeed  my  daily  bread,  but  ne'er  can 

mate  it  farther,  0  i 
Sut,  as  dally  bread  is  all  I  need,  I  do  not 

much  regard  her,  O. 


:  .vCoo^^le 


HER  FLOWING  LOCKS. 


elimes  by  my  toout  I 


STisclmnce,  miatake.  or  by 
good-iiatur'd  tolly.  O ; 

Bat  lome  wliat  will,  IVe  w 
ne'M  be  melanclkoly,  O. 


yonr  view  tlie  fatllier,  O ; 
Eadvou  the  wealth  Folosi  boaits,  or  nations 

to  adore  you,  O, 
A  cbeerfunioueat-lieuted  clowu  I  will  prefei 


tp  in  lilt  Smiling  tat!;. 

Toss— Cold  Worn  the  Mad. 


Up  in 
When   ' 


»rly: 
ravM'd  V 


I'm  BUie  it'a  wiuter  fairly. 
Canid  b1aw9  tlie  irind  fcae  east  to  vest, 

lie  diifl  is  driving  aairlj; 
8ae  loud  and  shrill  I  hear  the  blast, 

I'm  sure  its  wintei  fiiirly. 
The  birds  nt  chittering  in  the  thorn, 

A'  day  they  fare  but  sparely ; 
■    '  tang's  the  night  ftae  ■■-    ' 


er  fairly. 


SJeH,  lljB  Bnstn  JlliUer. 

Tune— ISe  Dusts  ■M'"*''- 
Hby,  tiie  duaty  miller. 


alnllill.  (382) 
TuNK— I>oiWj  DflBie. 
TuEiiE  was  a  lad  was  bom  in  Kyle, 
1  doubt  it's  hardly  worth  Ilie  while 


The  ^ssip  keelit  in  his  loof, 
Quo  scho,  wha  Uvea  will  see  the  pKK£ 
lliis  aaly  boy  will  be  nae  coof ; 
1  think  well  ca'  him  Robin. 


11  be  a  credit  till  us  a'— 

^e'U  a'  be  proud  o"  Kobin. 

t  sure  as  three  times  three  mak  nisc 

;e  by  ilka  seote  end  line, 

IS  chap  will  dearly  like  our  kul', 

io  leeie  me  ou  thee,  B»bin. 


ClE  fells  of  31'inirl|!inp.  (SH'S) 

Maiirliline  there  dwells  sii  proper  yonng 
buLes,  [hood  a', 

rhe  priile  of  the  place  and  its  neighbour- 
ejr  carriage  aiid  dress,  a  alrnnger  would 

guess, 
In  Lon'un  or  Pans  they'd  gotten  it  a\ 
iss  Allller  is  line,  iiisa  Maikland's  diving 
Miss  Smith  she  has  wit,  aud  Miss  Betty 
ishraw,  [Monon; 


Fills  the  dusty  feck- 
Fills  the  dnsty  peck, 
Brings  the  dusty  silli 

For  (he  dusty  miUei. 


Sir  /luEiing  Iniks.  isss) 

f  EfL  flowing  locl^,  the  raven's  win^ 


Ho,t,db,  Google 


BURNS'S  POETICAL  WORKS. 


Up  $m  nf  m  HiliiE.  (3S6) 

Tune— Siouraioj. 
Ye  ions  of  old  KilLic,  »8semhled  by  Willie, 

To  follow  tlie  noble  vocation ; 
Tour  thrifty  old  toother  haa  Bcarce  such 
mother 

To  sit  in  that  honoured  station. 
I've  little  to  say,  but  only  to  pray, 

As  praying's  the  ton  of  your  fashion ; 
A  prayer  fVom  the  ninBo  yi " 

'^a  aeldom  her  kvouril 
Ye  powers  who  preside  o'l 


iethatgi 


■  the  wind  andthe 


Who  marked  each  element's  border ; 
Who  formed  this  frame  nith  beneficent  aim, 

IVhose  BOiereign  statute  is  order ; 
Within  this   dear  mansion  may  wayward 

Or  uithered  envy  ne'er  enter ; 
May  secrecy  round  be  the  nijatical  bound. 
And  brotherly  love  be  the  centre. 

Tune — Jfojjy  Loader, 
I  MARRIED  with  a  BcoldioK  wife. 

The  fourteenth  of  Novemberj 
She  made  me  weary  of  my  life. 

By  one  unruly  member. 
Long;  ^d  I  bear  the  heavy  yol^ 

Ajid  many  griefs  attended ; 


Aftll! 

And  send  him  safe  1 

My  blesain's  upon  thy  sweet  wee  lippie, 

Tliy  smiles  ate  sae  like  my  biythe  sodger 
laddie. 

dearer  and  dearer  to 
■er  on  yon  bnnn 
i  H'iniplin'  by  sa 

a  man  like  thy  daddie  dear. 


Thou's  aj( 

But  I'll  big  e 

Where  Ta\ 


iaknee 


imfort 


ended. 


At  length  from  me  her  eoune  she  ateer'd. 

Would  1  could  guess,  I  do  profess, 

1  apeak,  and  do  not  Hatter, 
Of  all  the  women  in  the  world, 

I  never  could  come  at  her. 
Her  body  is  bestowed  well. 


a^m  mm  a  tsss. 

Tune — Duncan  Damon. 


And  she  held  o'er  the  moors  to  spii 
They  ca'd  him  Duncan  DaiHson. 


the  banks  they  eas'd  their 

But  Duncan  swore  a  holy  aith 
That  Meg  should  be  a  bride  tl 

Then  Meg  took  up  her  spinnin'  j 
And  flung  them  a'  out  o'er  tta 

Well  hig  a  house— a  wee,  wee  h 


3jlBre  iiiiiira  Set?  (386) 

Tune— fioimie  Dundee. 


ICan&laii],  Cnniil  ijj!  SHmial 

Tune— //iT(  tuUie,  lailie. 


l.nd  I'm  but  jolly  fou. 


Oh  ully  blind  body,  oh  diuoa  ye  see  ? 


Ho,t,db,  Google 


FIRST  WHEN  JIAGGT  TTAS  SIY  CARE. 


Hatlliii'  Saaiiii'  WMt. 

Tune— iloHiin'  roarM  miUe. 
Oh,  rattlin'  ro»rin'  Willie, 

Oh,  ho  held  to  the  fair. 
And  for  to  sell  lija  fldiU^ 

And  bay  Bonie  other  warei 
But  parting  ni'  hia  lidille. 

Ye're  welcome  hama  to  me  1 
Oh  WUlie,  come  sell  your  fiddle, 

Ob  Willie,  come  sell  ;dui  Uddle, 

And  buy  a  pint  o'  nine. 
It  I  should  sell  my  liddle, 

Hie  watl  would  tliiiA  I  waa  mad 
Pot  mouv  a  ran  tin' day 

My  fi<!d1e  aud  I  hae  had. 


ffii]  f  nnr  sjji's  Iiat  a  f  asait  ^A. 

TosE—Lady  Badimcath'a  Btel. 
My  love  she's  but  a  lassie  yet. 

My  love  she's  but  a  lassie  yet. 
We'll  let  her  stand  a  year  ot  twa. 
She'll  no  be  half  sae  saucy  yet. 
I  tne  the  day  I  sought  her,  O, 

1  rue  the  day  I  sought  her,  O ; 
Whi  gets  her  needs  na  say  she's  woo'd, 
But  lie  may  say  he's  bougbt  her,  O  t 
Come,  draw  &  dtap  o'  the  best  o't  yet, 

Corae,  draw  a  drap  o'  the  be>t  o't  yet  j 
Gae  seek  for  pleasure  where  ye  will, 

Sut  here  I  never  miss'd  it  yet 
We're  a'  dry  wi'  drinking  o't. 
We're  a'  dry  wi'  drinking  o'tj 


A.udcD 


1^  preach  for  thinking  o% 


TuNE~0  Mount  and  Go. 


Sitting  at  yon  bo.i.d 
And  aniang  guiu  i 

YeVewi 


TtIHE— ^js  toaukia  O. 
SiuuER'a  a  pleasant  time. 

Flowers  o{  every  colonr ; 
The  water  rins  o'er  Ihe  heiijh, 

tod  1  long  for  my  true  lover. 


Ihy  love  in  battle, 
anquiah'd  foe 


^irst  mlitn  %&m  o^  '^  SEso. 


For  thinknig  on  my  dearie 
When  1  sleep  I  dream, 

When  I  wauk  I'm  eerie : 
aeep  I  can  get  nane 

For  thinkmg  on  my  dearie. 


Whistle  o'er  the  hive  o't. 
J  leg  was  meek,  aiid  Meg  wis  mild, 
Bonnie  M^  was  nature's  child ; 
Wiser  men  than  me's  be^il'd-^ 

Whistle  o'er  the  lave  o'C 


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ECESS'S  POETICAL  WORKS. 


How  we  Kra,  my  Meg  and  m^ 


Whistle  o'er  the  l»Te  tf 
■Wba  I  wish  Here  maggot's  t. 
Diali'd  up  in  het  wUiding  ahi 
I  could  uriie— but  Mej;  mm 


ijm's  B  ^^nntlf  in  lljis  (E:ti[. 

lb  a  Gaelic  Air. 


Fat  beauty  and  fortune  the  laddie'^ 

courci,.';  [ai.d 

Weel-featured,weeUtodier'4weeL-inc 


ihei'd  Nancy  maisC  fetteia 


iCjl  Hi[E  Bii  EJife  alir  Hung  ii 

Tone— j«j  ic./e  sle  Donj  m*. 
O  AYE  my  irire  the  dang  me. 

And  aft  my  wife  did  liang  me, 
If  ye  gie  a  woman  a,'  her  will, 

Guid  faith,  sbe'U  si>on  o'ergang  j 
On  peace  ar  '       ' 


Butu 


rried; 


Tuhk—Mh  Eppic 


liy  Law,  and  by  duty. 

My  HDppie  Adair  I 

And  oh  1  my  Eppie, 

My  jewel,  my  Eppie, 

\%'i'  Eppie  Adair? 


Sfii  Saiilc  nf  ^itririff-ffinir. 

Tvne—Cmaermiaa  Rant. 


'o  hear  the  thuds,  aiid  aee  the 
Wh»  glaum'd  at  kingdoms  ( 


And  mouy  a  book  did  fa 
The  great  Argyle  led  on  hi; 
i  wat  they  glaiic'd  for  tiven. 
They  hack'd  and  haah'd  w' 


dash'il,BndheH''d,audBmash'd. 

seen  the  philabcgs, 

leeth  they  da'r'd  our  Whigs. 


Hosted  by  Google 


THERE  "WAS  A  LASS 


Aa  Eoke  tailiia  tak  o'lme 
Ae  e'eraii,im.tTie]ity-lea? 


Hosted  by  Google 


Ho,t,db,  Google 


THESIEL  MENZIE'S  BONNIE  MART. 


In  Tints  eileniled  long  and  large, 
When  bayonets  opposed  the  tu^ 

Wi'  Hi^lind  wrath  they  free  tbe  sh«.tli 

Drew  blades  o'  death,  till,  ont  o'  breath, 

They  fled  like  trighttd  does,  man." 


-Ohk 


!ic1,  Tam 


^  gaed  frae  the  North,  man ; 
I  saw  myself,  they  did  fureiie 

The  hoiaeoian  hack  to  Fotih,inaai 
And  at  Dunblane,  in  my  dn  sight. 
They  took  the  brij  *i'  a'  their  m^ht. 
And  Etraught  to  Stirling  n'lnged  theit  fl^ht ; 
3)ut,  cursed  lot!  the  gates  "ere  shut ; 

For  fear  amaiat  dliTawarS  man !" 


Frae  Perth  unto  Dundee,  man 
Tlieir  left-liand  general  had  nae  s 
Tlie  Angus  lads  had  nac  good  vti 


For  fesT,  by  foes. 
They've  lost  some 


e — all  cryuig  woes ; 
gallant  geutlemen 


Oi  fallen  in  Whiggish  hands,  n 
Not  wad  ye  sing  this  double  flgh 
^me  fell  for  wraug,  ani!  some  fur 
But  mony  bade  the  world  giiid-ni; 
Then  ye  may  tell,  how  pell  and  m 
By  red  claymores,  and  muskets'  k 
Wi'  dying  yell,  the  Tories  fell. 


€^t  Sigbliinti  i^iiilniii'a  iCamcnt.  ( 

Oh  i  E  am  come  to  the  low  couiitH^ 


le  Il^Mand  hills 


Feeding  on  yon  hills  s 

And  giving  milk  to 

And  there  I  had  three 


Till  Charlie  Stewart 


rm  was  wanted  then, 
1  and  for  me. 
tevchat  need  1  tell? 
wrang  did  yield  i 


TVNE—Kitliccrttnkie, 
Wharb  hae  ye  been  sae  braw,  lad? 

Where  hae  ye  been  sae  braakie,  O? 
Oh,  wliare  hae  ye  been  aae  braw,  lad? 

Cam  ye  by  Killiecraiikie,  O  ? 
An  ye  had  been  wliare  1  hae  been. 

Ye  wad  nae  been  sae  outie,  O; 
An  ye  had  seen  what  I  hae  seen. 

On  the  braea  of  Killiecrankie,  O. 
I  fought  at  land.  I  fonght  at  sea ; 

■    hame  I  fought  my  auntie,  O ! 


le  braes  o'  Killiecrankie,  0| 


itljrnii'l  iKmiie's  Snnnit  ffiatq. 

TonE—Ths  Ktf^an's  Rmt. 

1  coming  by  the  brig  o'  Dye, 
At  Darlel  we  a  blink  did  tarry; 

We  drank  a  health  to  honnie  Mary. 
Theniel  Menzie'e  bonnie  Mary, 

Theniel  Mensie's  bonnie  Maiy ; 
Charlie  Gregor  tint  his  plaidie, 

Kiasin'  Theoiel'a  bonnie  Muy. 


Hosted  by  Google 


We  Isp  (Old  (lanced  Ihe  lee  lang  day, 
-fill  piper  lada  were  wae  and  wearj : 

But  ChflrLc  gat  Ihe  aptiiis  to  pay, 
For  kisaifl.'  Dieiiiel's  boonie  Mary, 

^m  ill  /riDiiis  Kill  tiiiiii  %  tm. 

AiH— Carr™  Side. 
PbAE  the  frieuds  and  land  I  low 

Srii'ii  by  fortune'  felly  spit^ 
Free  my  best  belov'd  I  rove. 

Never  inalr  to  Caste  deli^l  t ; 

Enee  free  tod,  relief  frae  eare : 
Wlieii  remembrance  nr.iclta  the  mind, 

Heaaurea  but  unveil  diapair. 
Brightest  climei  ahall  mirk  appear, 

Desert  ilka  blooming  shore, 

Friendahip,  luve,  and  peace  reatore  j 
Till  Eevenge,  vi'  laurell'd  bead. 


fidiiB  is  1|[  San- 

Tdme— fiuirfiuift,  Counl  the  Lawiii, 

Gake  is  the  day,  and  roirt's  the  night, 

But  well  ne'er  stray  for  fau't  o'  light, 

For  ale  and  hraody'a  stars  aiid  nioun. 

And  bluid-red  wine's  the  riaing  sun. 

Then  gnidwite,  eonnl  the  lawin, 

Tlie  la'nn,  the  lawin  ; 

Then  EuidwifC,  count  the  lavbi, 


BUENS'S  POETICAL  WORKS. 

But  he  sae  trig,  la] 


'Hiere'B  wealth  ai 
And  simple  tulk  i 

For  ilka  man  that's  drunk' 


e  for  gentlemen, 
G^ht  andfen; 


TuNK — To  a  Hu/lilond  air. 
The  tithei  mom,  when  I  forlorn 


Tosef 

my  la 

so  near  me. 

iis  bonnet  he. 

thought  Bjee, 

Cock' 

aprns 

wlien  first  he  elasp'd 

ind  I,  I 

^Vhile 

inliis 

tins  he  nress'd  me. 

3eUtafcthewflr"!"Ilate"aHdair, 

Haen 

ah'dai 

nee  Jock  departed: 

Jut  no* 

as  glad  I'm  ™i  my  lad. 

As  all 

OTt  ayne  broken- liearted. 

Vafto 

e'enn 

i'  dandng  keen. 

When 

a' were 

biytbe  and  merry. 

cac'dnahy,™ 

esad»asl. 

Inabs 

ut,  pra 

sebeb 

est,  my  mind's  at  lestj 

I'mh 

^.^i' 

my  Johiiiiy : 

Andl) 

eas™ 

ty-s  ony. 

&mt  Snat  mr  n'rr  In  Cljariip. 

Tune— O'er  l*e  Water  to  ChBdle. 

Coue  boat  me  o'er,  come  row  me  o'er. 

Come  boot  me  o'er  to  Charlie ; 
111  gie  John  Koss  another  bawbee. 

Well  o'er  the  water  and  o'er  the  sea. 
Well  o'er  the  water  to  Charlie; 


§1  is  na,  Smir,  tfiii  Snnnit  ^sa. 

Tune— T*e  Muid's  Complaint. 
It  ia  na,  Jean,  thy  honnie  face 

Nor  ehape  that  I  admire, 
Altho'  thy  beauty  and  thy  grica 

Might  weel  awake  dcaire. 
Something,  m  ilka  pari  o'  thee. 


Ho,t,db,  Google 


A-WANDEEIXa. 


S  jiM  B  Wifi  n'  ran  ain. 

TonE—Naeiadg. 

ni  partake  wi'  imebodj; 
ni  tak  cuckold  frae  iiaiie, 

111  pB  cuckolil  to  iiaebody. 
I  hae  a  penny  to  spend, 

T^re— thanks  to  nBebody ; 
I  liae  naethiiii:  to  lend, 

I'D  borrov  frae  naehady, 
I  am  nasljody's  lord — 

ITlbealavetonaebody; 
1  hne  a  g^id  biTiid  sword, 

I'll  tak  dunta  trae  naeliodj. 


tkhk's  'BtUam  SJraii. 


The  happy  boar  may  soon 

That  brinss  ua  pleasant 

The  weary  night  o'  care  ai' 


ffin  §a\lm  SailiiiE. 

TtraK— rSe  Collier  Laddie. 


And  I  foUoa  the  Coll 


An[l  the  earth  eonceuls  aae  lonly ; 
ivad  turn  my  back  on  you  and  it  a'. 
And  embrace  my  Collier  laddie. 

And  emhmce  my  Colher  Iddditb 


And  spen  't  at  night  fu'  I 
Ind  make  my  bed  in  the  Collie 

And  he  dovra  wi'  my  Colber  ijiddie, 
Ind  make  my  bed  in  the  Cotlier'a  uenk. 

And  lie  dawn  wi'  my  Colliec  laddie. 
!.Hye  for  luve  is  the  bargain  for  me, 

Tlio'  the  nee  eot-hoase  shoald  hand  mej 
Ijid  the  world  before  me  to  win  my  bce»d. 

And  fjir  fa'  my  Collier  laddie, 
ind  the  world  before  me  to  win  my  bread, 

Aud  fair  fa'  my  Collier  Laddie. 


IVSE—Rinn  Meudial  mo  Mheitlladh. 
rhe  pipers  and  youngsters  were  makinj 
Lman.'  them  I  s|iied  mTlaithlesa  faiise  lover 


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BDENS'S  POETICAL  'WOEKa. 


Althonirh  he  has  left  me  for  greed  o 


Iti  IkitMesa  Co  him. 


JharUB  Codira 
and  hloomin'  i 
I;  will  be  the  bi 


e  vas  the  iprout  of 
id  straught  was  it ; 


Tdnb— le  Jacobites  hy  Xume 
Tb  Jaeobitesby  nuine,  gira  an  ear.givc 
Ye  Jacobite  a  by  name,  give  an  ear 
le  Jacobites  by  oaiue, 
Touc  fautes  1  will  proclaim, 
Your  doctrines  1  maun  l>lan 
You  shall  hear. 
What  is  rij*t  and  what  ia  wraog,  by  t 
by  the  law? 
What  is  riifhi;  and  what  is  wrani; 
What  is 


Port 


What  makes  heroic  strife,  fbm'd  afar,  bm'd 

■What  makes  heroic  strife,  fam'd  afer? 
What  makes  heroic  strife  ? 
To  whet  th'  assaasLu'i  knife. 
Or  hunt  a  parent's  hfe 
WL'  bluidie  war. 
Then  let  yoiit  schemes  alone,  in  the  state,  in 
Then  lee  your  schemes  alone  b  the  statBj 


.e  laddie's  young,  hut  he's 


(Pnt  mn  llit  /Drtj], 

E — Charlie  Gordon's  JVelaimt  flame, 
orer  the  Forth  I  Inok  to  the  north, 

:ome? 

The  south  nor  the  east  gie  ease  to  my  breast. 
The  far  foreign  knd,  or  the  wild-rolling  aea. 
ut  I  look  to  the  west,  when  I  gae  to  rest. 


;§nrliri|'s  hm  i\it  '^arfing  ^iss. 

tonB—Jockes'i  taen  the  Parting  KiM. 


Xsim  ffani  Inn 

Tunc— 6  v    sn     oi 

Oh,  lady  Ma  y  Ann  look  d  u  er 


I  my  Inve,  tboo  featliery  suaw, 
iftiug  o'er  the  froseu  plain 
When  the  shades  of  evening  creep 
O'er  the  day's  fair,  gladsoma  e^ 


ie  laddie's  young,  bnt  he's  g 


Oh  father ! 
Well  send  bin 


hfatl 


an  ye  think  it  fit. 
■J,  the  college  yet : 


And  that  will  let  them  kea  he's  tu  many 

And  the  laager  it  blossom'd  the  sweeter  i 

grew:  [yel 

For  the  lily  in  tke  bud  will  be  bonnie 


ill  r™at 


ffjIB  Carhs  s'  lijsirt 


id  the  lads  o'  Buckhaven 
the  kimmera  o*  Largo, 
id  the  laaies  o'  Leveo. 


Ho,t,db,  Google 


AS  AW  A. 


enny'B  i 


tabi!  M'lt, 


Y  laiiy  Onlie,  hoiicBi  Lucky  ! 
lady  Oiilk,  houesl  Lunky, 
Brews  guid  ale  at  shore  o'  E 


Tbel 


Her  house  sae  bien,  her  cutch  aae  deon, 
I  wal  she  is  a  dainty  eliucky; 

And  cheerlie  bliuks  elie  in^le-^leed 

Of  lady  (Mx,  honest  Lucky  I 

Lady  Oidie,  boiieai  Lucky, 


jh  her  sale  for  lif 


fami  Samic,  '^Jriili  nf  a'  Ijit  |5lai 

luNE— I'Ae  Ciirlia  o'  (**  Gien. 


And  rdgned  resiaUesa  kiii^  oC'inve: 

Ho  strays  among  the  woods  aiid  briers; 
Or  ID  the  glens  aud  rocky  caves 
His  tad  conipiaiiiing  douie  rav«s. 
I  »ha  Hte  late  did  range  and  rore, 
Aiul  cliang'd  viLh  every  moon  my  love, 
I  little  thought  the  time  was  near. 
Eepejiiauoe  I  sbovdd  buy  sae  dear : 
The  ehgbted  maids  my  tormctiC  see, 
And  Is-Mgii  at  a'  the  puigs  1  dree ; 
While  slie,  my  cruel,  scorntu'  fiiir. 


ennys 


mat,  pimr  ffia&q. 


at,  poor  body, 
■Idom  dry  ; 


Conu"K  th 
Gill  a  body  meet  a  body 

Coining  through  the  lyft 
Gin  a  body  ki'j  a  body, 

t^eed  a  body  cry  ? 
Gin  a  body  meet  a  boily 

Coming  through  the  glen. 

Need  the  world  keu? 


For  Johnny  is  my  oidy  jo, 
1  loe  him  beat  of  ouy  yet 


.nin'ot, 
swinuiu'ott 


The  tailor  etnw  the  lii 


aiii  till!,  InnEil  Kilji. 

To  thee,  lov'd  Nith,  thy  gladsome  piaina. 

Where  lace  wi'  careless  thought  I  rang" 

Though  prcat  wi'  care  and  sunE  iu  woe, 

1  love  thee,  Nith,  thy  banks  and  braes, 

'ITio'  mem'ry  there  m;  bosom  tear; 

For  there  lie  rov'd  that  brake  my  heart. 


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CURKS-S  POETICAL  WOUES. 


Thou  thtt  ot  a'  tHa«s  Maker  art. 

OTiatfo 

m'd  this  fuit  Joe  far  8WB, 

Gie  boily 

ttenKth,  then  I'll  ne'er  sti 

At  this 

mywBysae/HnK-fl. 

Hem  true 

8  iDTe  to  pare  desert, 

Solo™ 

toher,«ae(!ita>va: 

And  (,odi 

can  iieol  my  boaum's  im 

While, 

hi  theisuefi.ran'a. 

Ksue  nthe 

lore,  none  other  dart. 

Itcelb 

tlior's,«aefBra«a; 

Bat  fairer 

neier  toncli'd  a  heart 

'ITiiiu  l,e 

IT'S,  the  lair  sae  far  awa. 

5Uiir  is  niu  ffrari. 

Tvmt—m,ei,«a,He-rt. 

Wab  is  m 

y  heart,  and  tlie  tcor'a  in 

laas.iBjig 

joj's  been  ■  stranger  to 

Pot^skeu 

lid  friendless,  my  htirdtii 

And  the 

weecvoieeo' pity  ne'er  s 

lean  led  iu 

throbhinga  will  9001 

be  at  rest. 

Ohiflwert 

liappj,  where  ha[ipr  I  hae  been. 

Down  by  yo 

1  stream,  and  yon  b 

nniecastle- 

[me. 

Fortliei-eh 

is  wand-rini;,  and 

musiiw  on 

Wha  wad  aoou  dry  the  teat  frae  PhiUis'e  ee. 

.^iMiiff  tijt  Sim. 

Tune— n-- 

Iii»g  of  France,  h 

m!s  a  Racl. 

Ahang  the 

trees  where  hunimi 

,.bees 

At  btiAi 

ns,0, 

Auld  Caled 

11  drawout  her  dro. 

And  to  h 

t  pipe  mi  singing. 

Twas  jiibro 

h,  sang,  strathapcy. 

/reels, 

She  dirrd 

lliemafffu- clearly. 

0, 

tThen  there 

cam  a  veil  o'  foreig 

squeels. 

Tteir  capon 

craw^  and  queer  ha. 

ha'a. 

They  ma. 

e  oar  lugs  ^weer 

.(>; 

The  hungry 

bike  did  scrape  aniJ 

,iLe 

Till  we  were  wae  and  weary,  C 

But  a  royal  gliaist  wha  ance  was 

cas-d. 

aughteen  year  awa 

Helir-dafi 

dIeriotheNortli 

ThMdun 

tbeifl  tapaaltcerie. 

. 

TovE—Jfthou'll  Play  mt  Fair  Plan. 


The 

onniest  kd  that 

erlsaw 

Ho 

Die  laddie,  Highl 

idladdii 

Wore 

a  plaid,  and  was 

1'  bniw. 

Bo 

nie  Highland  laddie.        " 

On  hi 

head  a  bonnet  h 

Bo 

nie  laddie,  Highland  laddie; 

andtruB, 

nie  Highland  lad 

lie. 

TViimpets  sound,  and  c 

Bo 

nlc  las.'le,  Lowki 

d  lassie; 

the  hills  wi'  eeh 

Bo 

lue  Lowland  h>3s 

Glory 

honour,  nD«.  in^ 

Bonnie  lassie,  Lowiaud  lassie. 

Forf 

edomandmyki 

gWt^hti 

Hie  Lowland  lassi 

Thes 

rse  shall  talie, 

nie  kddie,  llighl 

nd  laddie. 

Ere  a 

gilt  thy  manly  co 

irjge  shake. 

SJannurb  n'  Bailin. 

Tone— !'«B  KUlugie. 


I'hebaniioofcso' barley? 

Enliiir  ^Ijiirf  in  Sairst. 


Hosted  by  Google 


I  piri  np  to  Di 
To  wup  a  wi 


THE  L.IUDIES  BY  THE  BAKKS  O'KITH. 

(in  H  ^Imiglinifi!!. 


Wham 


il  Kobiu: 


Whs  ni  Robin  buuld, 
Tlough  I  »-aa  a  coller, 

PbyM  me  «c  a  trick. 
And  me  the  eller's  dochterP 

Robin  ptomised  me 


BwEBTEST  Mhj,  let  lose  inspire  thee ; 
Tahe  a  bearC  nhich  be  deairei  tbee; 
As  thy  conatatit  slave  regard  it ; 
rm  Ua  &ith  and  trulU  rea'uii  it. 
Pnxrf  o'  shot  to  birth  or  money. 
Not  the  wealthy  hot  the  bonnie ; 
Not  higb-boni,  but  noble-minded, 
Jn  love'i  silken  band  can  hind  it. 


^t  Xii55  nf  Cnlrftrijan. 

Tune— /nctj  Lathi. 


Ob  baud  yonr  tongue 

1  held  the  gate  tdl  joi 

Syne  1  began  to  wa 

1  Citit  my  whistle  and 


KSm's  B  BdHIi  snil  a 

HBRE'sabotdeaiidau 
MTia  wad  ji 


a,  hefure  bis  life  ii  ay  tiid, 

Then  catdi  the  moments  as  Ibcy'fly, 
And  use  the.n  as  ye  ouglit,  man  :- 

Believe  me,  huiipijiess  is  shy. 
And  comes  n^i  a3'e  when  sought,  m; 


And  at  uigbt  sliell  re 


hell  whistle 
>rnJt"C; 


Tune— 2«B  itVoi-j  Pii,nl  a'  Tow. 
TilB  weary  pmid,  the  weary  puud, 
I  think  uiy  wife  will  end  her  Ufe 

Aigiiidaao'erdidjiroiv; 
And  a'  that  she  lias  made  o'  tha^ 


Lt  last  her  feet— I  sang  to  sect— 
Gaed  foremost  o'er  tlie  kuowe ; 

ind  ere  I  wad  aiiither  jad, 
I'll  wallop  in  a  taw. 


^!  tMm  bn  i\s!  fjinks  n'  m\%  (3») 


The  laddies  by  the  banks  n'  Nitb, 
Wad  trust  his  Grace  vn'  a',  Jamie, 

n  tail  and  rin  awn,  Jamie. 


Ho,t,db,  Google 


BUKNS-S  POETICAL  WORKS. 

[liieen  Netlicrplaci 


like  him  tliere  is  i>a  tn  a,  Jamie ; 
There's  uo  a  calLoiit  tents  the  kye. 

But  keua  d'  Wateiht',  Jamie. 
To  end  the  wark,  here's  AVhiatlebirck, 

lang  may  liii  whistle  blaw,  Jomie ; 
And  Maxwell  true  o'  alerUiig  blue. 

And  well  be  Juhastouea  a',  Jamie. 


ifin  fsptaiit  liSriisE, 


The  Devi  got  nottcB  that  GnaiE  nas 
a-djing  [flym?; 

80  whip'  at  the  annimins  old  Satin  (ame 

But  nhen  he  approach  dwhere  poor  FuANCiS 
iajr  moMiiujr, 

And  saw  each  hed-post  with  its  burden  a- 


Oh  death,  hadst  thou  but  spir'd  his  liCe 

Whom  ure  this  day  Isiueiit, 
We  freely  wad  eichang'd  the  wif^ 


The  swap  we  yet  will  do't ; 

Tak  thou  the  carlin'a  carease 

Tbou'ae  get  the  tuul  to  hoc 


Onb  Queen  Artemisia,  as  old  stories  (ell. 
When  deprived  of  her  husband  she  loved  so 

well,  [show'd  her. 

In  respect  fur  the  love  and  afTection  he 
She  reduc'd  him  to  dust,  and  she  drank  oS 

tbepowdec. 


riioQ, 
■a  oriler  the  funVal  diree- 


On  £l|j|iiiist[im'!! 
tonslatinna  nf  31!HitiH['a  Cpigrimis. 

(303) 
Oh  thou,  whom  poesy  abhors. 


thou    that    gioaii — proceed    DO 
irelled  Martial  roaiiog  murCherl 


sC  heart  on  English  ground. 


fin  an  Sllilfralt  ipriitlfinaii. 


Fhee  thro  igli  the  1. 


KIriltcn  nn  h  Xliiiiiiniii  nf  tjif  3im 


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ON  THE   EAEL  OF   • 


Wntitu  ni  fl  ^HnB  nf  ifSlass 


Ask  why  God  made  the  e 
And  why  so  huge  the  g 

BeiMise  Gud  meant  mani 
The  higher  Ttdue  on  it. 


The  hlack-hesderl  eagle 


*a  Snrinililij  sijmnn  jjim  at  SnnMnori!. 

Whoe'br  he  he  that  aojourna  here, 

1  pity  much  hb  case. 
Unless  he  come  to  wait  npon 

llie  Lord  their  God,  hia  Grace. 


Sigtilaiitr  Snjpitalitn.   (399) 

When  death's  dark  stream  I  ferry  n'er, 
A  time  that  surely  shall  come. 


Sims  nn  -Kiss  IKtmiilf. 

KbhbLE,  Ihou  cur'st  my  imhelie 

OfMoaeaandhisrod; 
At  Tnrico'a  sweet  notes  of  e;rief 

The  rock  with  tears  had  flow'd 


tfa  fjjt  'Silk  at  ICminBtnii. 

A  cauld  kirk,  and  in't  but  few, 
A  caulder  miuistec  never  spak — 
They'll  V  be  warn  eie  I  come  back 


llie  ^hImu  ttsgn  anil  dl^iinrniiit. 

(33S) 


II  parson's  Inaks. 

<  fal'iehood  in  his  looks 


Md  sate  they  do  not  lie. 


^a  ^ttiirg  tliE  SBtantifttl  seat 


What  doetthoa  in  that  mansion  foir 

FUt.  »  *  .  .  and  find 
Borne  narrow,  dirty,  dungeon  cat^ 
The  picture  of  thy  mind ! 


No  Stewart  art  thou,  ■  ■ 


On  the  Sane. 
1  the  far-iani'd  Roi 


IE  jne  thy  vengeance,  • 


Ho,t,db,  Google 


EURNS'S  POETICAL  WOEKJs, 


6n  BB  iSiirptq  /[llnni, 


^litlfii  on  B  |,laiiE  it  $lm, 


atljE  (frifir  nf  ^inEriii.  (40i) 

In  nolilica  if  thnu  would'at  mii, 
Audmesn  thy  fortunes  be. 

Bear  this  ia  miad ;— be  dcflf  and  blin4 
l£t  giett  folks  hear  and  see. 


ffiriltin  in  it  Istiri's  ^nrktt-ffiiiiit 

Ibant  me,  indulgent  HcaVn,  that  I  maj 


God  won't  accept  jour  thaiiks  for 


Etrue  "Itpyal  Natives,"  attend  to  my  go 
uproar  sjid  riot  rejoice  the  iiiglit  long ; 
■om  envy  and  liatred  yout  corps  ii  eiemj 


Thebe's  death  in  tV 


iSritrapnrt  nn  Kr.  ^qiKt. 


looliery  the  first  in  the  ■ 


Ii  proof  to  dl  other  temptatiat 


Oh,  had  the  malt  thy  attcngth  of 
Or  hops  the  flavour  of  thy  wit, 

Tnere  drink  for  fitat  of  human  ki 
A  gift  that  e'en  foe  Syme  were 


afn  Sb^h  Saqliit.  (402) 

With  P^aaita  upon  a  day. 


Poor  sHp'Shod  ^iddy  Fe^asiii 
Was  but  B  aorry  waiter; 

To  Vulcan  then  Apollo  goes. 
To  get  a  frosty  calker. 


Jtn  Mbs  Smim'ik, 


Sweet  nalvet*  of  feature, 
Simple,  witd,  enchanting  elf, 

Not  lu  thee,  but  thanks  to  Natnre. 
'I'hou  art  acting  but  thyself. 

Wert  thou  awkward,  atiff,  BlTeeted, 

Loves  and  graces  all  rejcctisf. 


Ho,t,db,  Google 


QEACES   BEPOEE   MEAT. 


EJIC  ffinast.  (403) 
Instead  of  it  eoug.  boya,  I'll  gi 


Tor  tl 


thatwi 


lory  of  those  oti  Che  twelth 
lid  I  aay!  Day,  by  Hem'n, 
il  shall  kat  while  the  v 


[Kia, 

The  neit  in  auccesaion,  I'll  give  you — the 
Whoe'er  would  bettay  him,  on  high  may  h  - 

Apd  here's  the  grand  iabiic,  our  free  Cons 
Aa  hoilt  on  Ihe  base  of  the  frreat  Revolution ;  i 
And  louger  with  politics  not  to  be  eraram'd. 
Be  Aaardiy  cuta'd,  and  be  Tyranny  dsmn'd : 
And  who  would  to  liberty  B'erproue  dialoyal, 
May  hia  son  be  a  haugman,  and  be  bia 


BnismtK  Alliums  I, 

BirrEN  ON  A  WINDOW,  (40*) 

of  wit  and  wealth,  why  all  this  sn 


Lo?eiy  Jeaay  be  the  iianie ; 
Then  thon  mayeit  lie«ly  boast 
Thou  hast  given  a  peerleas  toast; 


Epitaph  ea  the  Same,   (407) 
Sat.  cages,  abat's  the  charm  on  eut 

Can  tHtn  death's  dart  asideP 
It  is  not  purity  and  w.irlh, 

S,\ee  Jessy  liud  nai  disid. 


But  rarely  seen  since  Nature's  birth. 

The  natives  of  the  sky; 
Tet  still  one  seraph's  left  on  euth. 

For  Jessy  did  not  die. 


€mm  \srtm  MnA. 

Soke  hae  meat  and  canna  eat, 


,  who  kindly  dost  provide 


ltd,  if  it  please  Thee,  heavenly  guide. 


re  tiir  Jessy  from  the  gravel 


ifttt  %SI!  XlllIBrS.  (405) 
Talk  not  to  me  of  savages 

No  sRVDge  e'er  could  reiid  my  heart. 

As.  Jessy,  Ihou  hast  done, 
Bot  Jeiat's  lovely  hand  in  mine, 
al  faith  to  pUgbt, 


Notev 
Would  be  ae 


•  sight. 


On  Tliou,  in  whom  we  live  and  mon 

Who  mad'sl  the  sea  and  shore; 
Thy  goodness  constantly  we  ptov^ 

And  graletul  would  adore. 
And  it  it  please  thee,  Pow't  above, 

Still  grant  us,  witb  such  Btote, 
The  friend  we  truat,  the  &a  wa  iin« 

And  we  desire  no  more. 


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EUIINS'S  rOETICAL  WOKKS. 


Cpitnpjis. 


Ob  ye  whose  cheek  the  tear  of  pity  stuns, 

Draw  nf  RT  with  pious  rev'rence  and  attend ! 
Hera  lie  the  loriug  husband's  dear  remaina. 


Strong  ale  was  ahlu 
3iilail  beer,  persecul 

But  a  ML  flowing  b 
Wasthejoyofhiii 


(Dil  a  Etnpcrk'i!  foniiirq  §i\mn. 

As  father  Aflam  first  waa  fool'd, 
Heie  lies  a  man  a  womanrul'd,  ' 


/or  KBlinf  aitoir,  ^^. 

Know  thou,  oh  slraiiget  to  the  feme 


(Pn  a  (Eclrlirniti!  Iniinu  £ih:. 

Hebe  souter  Hood  in  death  does  sleej— 


iCn  I 

Knisi]  '^nlmit 

(409) 

BKtowthea 

stanes  lie  Jamie' 

Oh  Death 

It's  my  opinion. 

Into  thy  d 

/nr  §am  iniiiiltun. 

The  poor  man  weeps— here  Gavin  sleeps. 


tbn  tSn  gnljmnj.  (^iQ) 


Whoe'er  thou  art,  i 

That  death  has  mu 

And  hete  hia  body  lii 


That  tlie  very  worms  damu'd  him 
When  laid  in  his  grave. 

"In  his  flesh  there's  a  fiunine," 
A  atarv'd  reptile  cries ; 

"And  hi?  heart  la  rank  poison," 


Ho,t,db,  Google 


BATSTNOCKBUKIJ. 


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Ho,t,db,  Google 


^n  s  Sr^mtlmasttr 


Hekb  lie  Willie  Miobie's  btnes, 

Ob  Satau,  ahen  ye  tak  liim, 
Gie  bim  the  Bchooliii'  of  your  wes 


OS  A  PICTOEE.  2 

BKEWEK,   nUUFBlES.  (109) 

Gnbiiel's  fire's  eitinct 


On  ffit.  ffi.  £rttirblisiilis. 

HONEBT  Will's  to  Heaven  gane. 


/ic  Gillian  jHiwl, 

Tk  naggota,  feed  on  Nicul'a  hrain, 
For  few  sic  feasts  you'ie  gotten ; 


IT  thief  I  dameNa 


Jl  I  m^c  a  fool  agaiti? 


Hii  akull  tiSl  pcop  dieni  luidei. 


lie's  blest 


anpty  all 


lirighl  hi 


s  breVd  be  drink — 


fin   fnjin    Sni^liq, 

!9  John  Uushby,  haneatnual 


iCh  ific  I'ttrt's  HHngPtr. 


fin  B  ^irtnn 

-,  I'll  gie  jou  Slime  e 


and  paint  tlie  d— 1. 
1  ai^l's  kittle  wark, 
.  Nick  tlwre's  less  danger  4 


Ho,t,db,  Google 


Ho,t,db,  Google 


Cntrajiankna  nf  Imm. 


Ho,t,db,  Google 


Ho,t,db,  Google 


,1  -y  K^-i^i^  *  «S 


1* 


Cnri'Bpankttrf  nf  Saras, 


ZocAbo,  \hOi  Jiaataxs,  I7B3. 
Dam  81B. — As  I  litve  in  opportumty  of 
BeodiDg  you  a  letter  withoni  pnttinf-  you  to 
tliaC  enpense  which  uiy  prodHctioii  of  mine 
would  but  ill  repay,  I  enibraca  it  mth  plea- 

nor  ever  will  forget,  the  many  obligal^ons  I 
lie  undei'  to  your  kindueaa  aod  t^utlship. 

I  do  not  donlit,  Si,  but  yon  will  wish  to 
knon  ubat  has  been  the  leBnlt  of  all  the 
pains  of  an  indulgent  father  and  a  nlaaterly 
teacher,  and  I  wish  I  could  gratify  your 

pleased  with ;  but  that  is  whs.C  I  iia  aftaid 
will  not  be  tiie  euae.  I  have,  indeed,  kept 
pretty  cleac  of  vicaous  habits,  and,  in  tliis 
respMt,  1  hope  my  conduct  will  not  disgrace 
the  education  I  lure  gotten  ;  but,  as  a  man 
of  the  world,  I  am  moat  miaerably  de&deut. 


One  would  have  thmight  that,  bred  aa  I  have 
been,  under  a  father,  who  li«a  ligured  pretty 
well  as  KB  iowins  dej  ajfaires,  I  might  hajo 

fellow ;  but  to  tell  you  the  truth,  Bic,  there 
is  hardly  anytliiug  more  mj- reverse.    I  seem 

serve ;  and  I  very  easily  compound  witli  the 
knave  who  tricks  me  of  my  money,  if  there 
be'any  thing  original  about  hiin,  which  shov 


lit  light  fr 

auy  tlihig  I  have  seen  before.  In  short,  the 
joy  of  my  heart  is  to  "  study  men,  their 
manners,  and  their  ways ;"  and  for  ttus  dar- 
Ung  subject,  I  cheerfully  sauriGce  every  other 
considenition.  I  am  quite  indolent  diout 
those  great  concerns  that  set  the  bustling, 

sivec  for  the  present  hour,  I  am  very  easy 
~"" '  '"  iny  thing  further.    Even  the 


k3t,H 


.  of  the  uufort 


iuctiled  bj  a  hoary  head,  would  procure  mi 


Ho,t,db,  Google 


CORRESPONDENCE  OF  BUfiNS. 


to  much  esteem,  that,  sy 
learn  to  be  happy.  Hose 
apprehensiana  about  t'    ' 


ir,  i  ar 


.  for  though  indo- 

stitution  penoita,  I  am  not  lazy,  and  in  many  : 

things,  eepecially  in  tayem  matters.  I  am  a  > 
strict  ecauomist — not,  indeed,  for  the  take 
of  the  money,  hut  one  of  the  prii    .      . 

in  my  lOraposition  is  a  kiud  of  piide  of  sto-  i 

mach ;  and  I  scorn  to  fear  the  face  of  any  I 

nunhvmic— ahoieever;ttaiDg,lBbhor,BBheU.  i 

dun — possibly  some  pitiful,  aordid  wretch, 
Bho  in  my  heart  I  despise  and  detest,  "lis 
this,  and  this  alone,  tluil  endears  economy 
to  me.  Id  the  matter  of  books,  uideed,  1  am 
»ery  proflise.  My  favourile  authors  are  of 
the  senlimentsl  kind,  such  as  Shenstone, 
narticnlarly  his  "  Elegies  ; "  Thomson ; 
"  Man  of  Feeling"— a  boot  I  pri» 
IheBible;— "Man  ofthe  World;'  .  , 
especially  his  "  Seotimf  ntal  Journey ;"  Mac- 
pherson's  "  Osaian,"  fie, ;  these  are  the  glo- 
rious models  after  which  I  end ""  ' 

my  conduct,  and 'tis  incougruo    , 
to  suppose  that  the  man  whose  mind  glows 
with  sentiments  lighted  up  at  thnr  sacred 
Same — the  man  ohoae  heart  distends 
benevoteiice  to  all  tlie  I 


itingi 


he  not  really  a  part  of  virtue,  'ti 
ig  e:itremely  akin  to  it.  'Whenevf 
ight  of  my  E.  warms  my  hear 
telmg  of  humaniiy ;  every  prii 
generosity,  kindles  ia  mj  hreasi 
— '-^—  every  dirty  spark  of  malic 


LSlitt 


lioga"- 


can  he  descend  to  mind  the  paltry 
about  which  the  tcmelilial  rate  ^t,«nd  fume, 
and  yes.  themselves  I  Oh  how  the  glorious 
triumph  swells  my  heart !  I  forget  that  I 
am  a  poor,  insignificant  devil,  umioticed  and 
unknown,  stalkiiij;  up       '   ' 


I  grasp  every  cteat 

versal  benevolence,  and  equally  participate 

in  the  pleasures  of  the  happy,  and  synipalhisa 

assure  iu,  my  deal,  I  often  look  up  to  the 
Divine  Disposer  of  events  with  an  eye  of 
gratitude  for  the  blessing  which  I  hope  he 
intwida  to  bestow  on  me  in  bestowing  yon, 
I  sincerely  wish  that  he  may  bless  my  eudea- 
vours  to  make  your  h£6  as  comfortable  and 
happy  as  possible,  both  in  sweetening  Che 
rougher  parts  of  my  natural  temper,  and 
bettering  the  unkindly  rircumstances  of  ray 


jug  a  page  Of 


bappei 


to  he  iu  them,  read- 


ofraankind-aud  "catching    ; 

tlieir  way.  But  I 
time  tired  your  pa. 
le  with  begging  jou 


to  the  ho 
lat  and  fii 


and,  as 


TO . 

Lochka,  1783. 
!  TEBiLV  believe,  my  dear  E„  that  thi 

the  world  as  the  pure  genuine  principles  of 
rirtne  and  piety.  This,  I  hope,  will  aceounl 
(or  the  uncommon  style  of  all  my  letter*  U 


may  aay  of  an  t 

good  drudge,  and  draw  kindly.    1 

their  dirty,  puny  ideas.    I  would  be 

out  of  humour  with  myself,  if  I  til 

were  capable  of  Imving  so  poor  a  n 

the  sfi,  which  were  designed  to  crown  the 

pleasures  of  society.    Poor  devils!  I  don't 

envy  them  their  happiness  who  have  such 

notions.    Tor  my  pari,  I  propose  quite  other 

pleasures  with  my  dear  partner.        B.  B. 

TO  THE  8AMK 

LocUea,  1793. 
Mv  Dbab  E,— I  do  not  remomber.  in  the 


Hosted  by  Google 


wlo  proceed  in  the  m 
■    ae  affect"      " 


yofbarg 
■eally  placed  i 


AIOVE 

iiR,bultli 


Though  I  be,  as  jou  tauiv 
vay  awkward  lover  myself,  jet  as  1  hii 
Bome  opporl:unitiea  of  obserTing  tbe  condui 
of  others  who  are  lunch  better  skilled  in  tl 
aStiJr  of  cunrtsUlp  than  I  am,  I  often  thin 
It  IB  ou'iiig  to  liickf  chance,  more  than  J 
good  man^ment,  that  tliere  are  not  mui 
unhappy  mnrrlBges  than  usoally  are. 


tutalfot 


.young  fell! 


acquainlance  of  the  females,  and  customary  fui 
him  to  keep  them  company  «liea  cctasion 
aetiBS ;  some  one  of  them  is  more  agreeable 


hov,  in  her  company.  This  I  take 
what  ii  called  love  with  tlie  greater  jiart  of  us ; 
and  I  must  onii,  my  dear  E.,  it  is  a  h  ' 
game  such  a  one  as  you  have  to  play  nl 


jrou 


untable  fancy  m 
IS  distractedly  foud  of  anoth 
wi^usc  you  are  quite  forgot.  1  am  awa 
that  perhaps  tlie  nest  time  I  have  the  pleasu 
of  seeing  you,  you  may  bid  me  take  my  o\ 
lesBOu  home,  and  tell  me  that  the  pissioa 
have  professed  for  you  is  perhaps  one 
those  transient  flaslies  I  have  been  desc 
btng;  but  I.  hope,  my  dear  £.,  yon  n 
do  me  the  justice  to  believe  me,  when 
assure  yon  that  the  love  I  have  for  you 
founded  on  the  sacred  prindples  of  viiti 
and  honour,  and  by  coiisequeDce,  bo  Ioi 

Dualities  which  first  inspired   my  paseii 
IT  you,  so  long  must  I  continue  to  love  yo 


^  my  d 


D  tender  the  marriage  stale 
happy.  People  may  talk  of  Sanies  and 
nptiires  as  long  as  [liey  please— and  s  warm 
fcncy,  with  a  flow  oi  youtlJid  spirits,  may 
mate  tliem  feel  something  hke  what  they 
describe ;  but  sure  1  am,  the  nobler  faculties 
of  the  mind,  v-ith  kindred  feelings  of  the 
li«art,  can  only  be  the  foundation  of  frieud- 
ship,  and  it  has  always  been  my  opinion 
that  the  married  life  was  only  friendship  in 
■  more  eialied  degree.  If  you  will  be  so 
good  as  to  grant  my  wishes,  and  it  should 
please  Provideocs  to  spare  ua  to  tho  latest 
period  of  life,  I  can  look  forward  and  see 
that  even  then,  though  bent  down  with 
wriukled  age—eren  then,  when  all  other 
worldly  etrcnmstances  will  be  indifferent 
to  me,  I  will  rwatd  my  E.  with  the  t«nderest 
affection,  and  tot  this  flain  leason,  because 


When  I  look  over  what  I  have  written,  I 
m  sensible  it  is  vastly  different  from  the 
rduiaty  style  of  courlship,  but  1  shall  make 
lO  apology — 1  know  your  good  nuture  will 
KCUSB  what  your  goal  sense  may  sea 
misa.  K  It. 


lucky 


=n  thought  It  ■  peculiar  nth 
uice  m  love,  that  though,  in 
ituation  in  life,  tellmg  the 
■uth  b  not  only  the  safest,  but  actually  by 
ir  the  eiisiest  nay  of  proceeding,  a  lover  ia 
ever  under  greater  dilfieuky  in  acting,  or 
lore  puzzled  for  expression,  than  when  hli 


ourable.    1  do  not  Ihiidi  that  it  is  very  difficult 
for  a  person  of  ordinary  capacity  to  talk  of  love 

TOWS  of  constancy  and  fidehty  which  are 
-ver  intended  to  be  performed,  if  he  ha 
ain  enough  to  practice  such  detestable 
conduct  1  but  to  a  man  whose  heart  glows 
with  the  principles  of  integrity  and  truth, 


Tifcelin. 


it  this 


courtship  is  a  task  indeed.  There 
such  a  number  of  foreboding  fears  and 
strustful  anxieties  crowd  into  my  mind 
hen  I  am  in  your  company,  or  when  I 
t  down  to  write  to  you,  that  what  to  speak, 
:  what  to  write,  I  am  altogether  at  a  loss. 
There  is  one  rule  which  I  liave  hitherto 
actised,    and    which   1    shall    invariably 

you  the  plain  truth,    lliere  is  something 


1  and  unn 


ulyiii 


id  Msehood,  that  1  am  surprised 
be  acted  by  any  one,  in  so  nobl^  so 

„._- a  passion,  as  virtuous  love.    No, 

my  dear  E.,  I  shall  never  endeavoar  to 


Hoifdb,  Google 


COERESPONDENCE  OF  BDKNS. 
approach,  ha?e 


1,  yout 


m  Mend  tl 


life. 


•halt  give  me  ^eatec  (rsnaport; 
never  thiuli  of  puivbadtu^  your  hand  hy 
any  arta  nnwoitliy  of  a  man,  and,  I  will  add, 
of  a  Christian,  There  is  one  thing,  my  dear, 
which  I  earnestly  request  of  you,  luid  it  is 
this,  that  you  weuld  aoon  either  put  an  end 
lo  my  hopes  by  a  peremptory  refusal,  in  cute 
me  of  my  fears  by  a  geueroua  consent. 

It  would  obhge  me  much  if  yoD  «ou1d 
lend  me  a  hne  or  tivo  nhen  rantenient. 
I  shall  only  add  farther,  thac,  it  n  behaviour 
regulated  (though  perliap!  hut  very  imper- 
fectly) hy  the  rules  of  honour  and  virtue,  if 
a  heart  devoied  (a  love  and  esteem  you, 
o  promote  jont 


-if  tlics. 


!JOUW 


afriem 
find  th 
lOTO; 

™  ^  youc'^  tl:^rLd'sin«re 
K.B. 

TO    THE    SAME. 

Lnchks,  1783. 
I  ODOtrc,  in  good  manners,  to  hove  ae- 

thii  time,  but  my  heart  iras  ao  shocked  with 
the  contents  of  it,  that  I  can  ecarcely  yet 

^mythouKhai 
■ubjecl,  I  niU  not  attempt  to  describe  nhat 
I  (elt  on  receiving  your  L'tter.  I  read  it 
orer  and  ovei,  again  and  again,  and  though 
it  vaa  in  the  politcit  language  of  refusal, 
still  it  «as  peremptory  i  "you  were  sorry  yon 
could  not  make  me  a  return,  but  you  a'ish 
me" — what,  without  you,I  never  can  obtain — 
"you  wish  me  all  kind  of  happinesa."  It 
would  be  weak  and  unmanly  to  say  that 

I  am,  that  sharing  life  with  yoo  »Tiuld  have 
given  it  a  relish,  that,  wanting  you,  I  can 

Your  uncommon  personal  advant^ea,  and 
your  superior  good  sens?,  do  not  so  much 
Btrike  me ;  tiiese,  possibly,  may  be  met  with 

ble  gooduess,  that  tender  feminine  soflnets, 


education  muc 


qualities,  lieightened  by  an 
I  beyond  any  thing  I  have 
ay  wunum  I  ever  dared  to 


It  I  do  1 


unpression  oi 


efface.  My  imagination  liaa  fondly  flattered 
myself  with  a  wish,  1  dare  not  say  it  ever 
reached  a  hope,  that  possibly  I  might  one 
day  call  you  mine,  I  had  formed  the  most 
delightful  images,  and  my  laniy  fondly 
brooded  over  them ;  but  now  I  an)  wretched 
for  the  loss  a!  what  I  really  had  no  right  to 

as  a  mistress ;  still  I  presume  to  ask  to  be 
admitted  as  s  friend.  As  such  I  wish  to  he 
allowed  to  wait  on  you ;  and  as  I  expect  to 
remove  in  a  few  days  a  little  further  off,  and 
you,  I  suppose,  will  soon  leave  this  place,  I 
itiaii  to  see  or  hear  firom  you  soon :  and  if 
an  eipresaion  should  perhaps  escape  me, 
rather  too  warm  for  fiiendahip,  I  hope  you 
will  pardon  it  in,  my  dear  Miss — {pardon  me 
the  dear  eipression  for  once)  •  •  •    E.  B. 


TO  MR.  JAMES  BUENES^ 


of  tl 


Lothlee,  21al  Jua 
1,-— My  fether  recei 
10th  CI 


ime  months  very  poorly  in  health, 
and  is  in  hb  own  opiuion  |and,  indeed,  in 
slrnoat  every  body'a  else)  in  a  dyuig  condi- 
tion, lie  has  only,  with  great  difficulty, 
written  a  tew  farewell  lines  to  each  of  hia 

I  now  hold  the  pen  for  him  to  thank  you  for 
jiouir  laud  letter,  and  to  assure  yon.  Sir,  that 
It  shall  not  he  my  fault  if  my  Other's  cor- 


a  with  s  tew  par- 


tienlars  tela^ve  to  the  wretched  st 
country.  Our  markets  are  eiceedingly  high 
—oatmeal,  ITd.  and  ISd.  pet  peck,  and  not 
to  be  got  even  at  that  price.  We  have  indeed 
been  pretty  well  supplied  with  qnantitiea  of 
white  peas  from  England  and  elsewhere,  hut 


wiU  hi 


3me  of  ua  then,  particularly  th 
Bor^  Ueaiiea  only  knows. 
,  till  of  bte,  was  flourishing 


lucTi  reduced  from  what  it  was.  We  had 
lao  a  fine  trade  in  the  shoe  way,  but  now 
aticely  ruined,  and  hundreds  thiveu  to  ■ 


Ho,t,db,  Google 


larvmgco 


lETTER  TO  SIK. 

tofit.     Fnrmir;; 
Ills.    Our  lands, 


r  J  low  ebb 
KCnerBlly  speakidg,  art 
barn^n  ;  and  our  Undholilers,  full  of  idcaa  of 
biming  gachered  tram  the  Englisb  and  the 
I^jthisns,  and  other  rich  soils  in  Scotland, 
make  no  allowance  for  the  odds  of  the  qnality 
of  land,  and  eonseaueiitiv  etretch  U9  much 
beyond  what 


[opay. 


of  fare 


Tcsts  of  the  kingdon 


enables 

lavish  of  bet  favouta,  is  generally 
theio  at  the  last :  and  liapny  w 
numbera  of  them  if  she  would  leav 
le  than  when  she  found  them. 


Myni 


year's  stock  is  sold  off ;  but  if  you  could  fii 
on  any  correspondent  in  EdmbLii^b  or  Glas- 
gow, we  would  send  you  a  proper  one  in  the 
season.     Mrs.  Black  pcotuises  to  take  the 

tend  it  to  you  by  the  Stirling  carrier. 

I  shall  coi^dude  thii  long  letter  with  assur- 
ing you  that  I  shall  be  very  happy  to  hear 
from  you,  or  any  of  oni  friends  in  your 
country,  when  opportaoity  serrea. 

My  father  sends  yon,  probably  tor  the  last 

your  aellkre  and  happiness;  and  my  mother 
end  the  rest  of  the  fimily  desire  to  enclose 
their  kind  eomplimenis  to  you,  Mrs.  Burness, 
and  the  teat  of  your  firoily,  along  with  thOM 


ir.yonr 


as. 


anks  for  your  kind  favoi 


In  short,  my  dm  Sir,  since  the  anfortnnate 
hi^nning  of  this  American  war,  and  its  as 
unfortunate  conclusion,  this  country  has 
been,  and  still  is,  decaying  very  fest.  Even 
in  higher  hfe,  a  couple  of  onr  Ayrshire  noble- 
men, and  the  major  put  of  out  knights  and  1 
iquiies,  are  all  inaolsent  A  miserable  job  1 
of  B  Douglas,  Heron,  and  Co.'a  hank,  which 
no  doubt  you  have  heard  oC,  hoe  undone 

French,  and  otlier  foreign  luiurier  —'  '--     ' 


On  the  13th  curreaC  I  lost  the  beat  of 
itbers.  Though,  to  be  sure,  we  hare  had 
nig  wamiag  of  the  impending  stroke,  s^ 
the  feelings  of  nature -'-■-"•- •  —■ ■  ' 


idiTiduals  to  moke,  al 

ilendid  appearance ;  but  Fortune, 


essons  of  the  best  of  fViendi  and 
instmctora,  without  feeling  what 
le  cahuei  dictates  of  reason  would 

my  feCher's  ftiends  In  your  country 
:t  their  conneiiou  in  this  place  die 

with  pride,  acknowledge  my  con- 
,  lb  those  who  were  allied  by  liie  ties 

,    of  hlood  and  fnendship  to  a  man  whoae 
memory  I  shall  ever  honour  and  revere. 

I  expect,  therefore,  my  dear  Sir,  yoa  wiB 
not  neglect  any  oiipo"^un'ty  of  lettmg  nu 


un,  yours  siuceiely,       &.  fi. 


Mosaskl,  Aa^ial,  1784 
We  have  been  surprised  wiHi  one  of  th* 
most  estraordmary  phenomena  in  the  moral- 
world,  which,  I  dare  say,  has  ha,ppened  in  tin 
course  of  this  half  century.  IVe  hare  had  • 
party  of  Fresbytcty  relief,  as  they  call  tbem- 

pretty  thrising  society  of  them  has  berai  in 
the  burgh  of  Irvine  for  tome  years  past,  till 
about  two  years  ago  a  Mrs.  Buchan  finm 
tila^ow  came  among  them,  and  b^u  to 
spread  some  binaticA  notiona  of  r^igion 
among  them,  and,  in  a  short  time,  mads 
many  converts ;  and  among  others  thdr 
areacher,  Mr  White,  who,  upon  that  account 
Fibs  been  snspended  and  fomially  deposed  by 
his  brethren.  He  continued,  howavM,  to 
preach  in  private  to  his  party,  and  was  sup- 
porMd,  both  he  and  their  spiritual  mother, 
as  they  affect  to  call  old  Buchan,  by  the 
contriliulions  of  the  rest,  several  of  whon. 


,..,  Google 


CORRESPONDENCE  OP  BURNS, 
spring 


pulace  rose  and  mobbed  M[! 
IT  fQllowers  volmitaray  qnittei 


I  vaaidaz  on  the 
nng  at  flie  crib 
>  mind  hn,  and 


tkin.  Chat  many  of  them 

doora  behind  Cliem;  one  lef 

green,  another  a  cow  belli 

without  Jood,  or  any  body 

after  seYcral  atages,  they  ate  Dxea  at  preaent 

in  the  neightranrhood  of  Dumfries.    Their 

tenets  ai«  a  strange  jumble  of  enthnsiiucic 

jai^u ;  among  others,  she  preteniii  to  give 

'"-—  "le  Holy  Ghost  by  breathing  on  them, 

They  ha™ 

likewise  disposed  of  all  their  elTecCa,  aiidbald 
a  coniinunity  of  goods,  end  Uve  nearly  an 
Idle  life,  carryii^  on  a  great  farce  of  pre- 
tended ilevotion  in  haroa  and  Koods.  where 
they  lodge  and  lie  all  together,  and  hold 
likewise  a  community  of  women,  as  it  is 
another  of  their  tenets  that  they  can  commit 
'    *        '  ionally  aeqoainteii 


which  she  does  with  posturei 


withm' 


1  assure  you  the 


my  dea, 


nany 


instances  of  the  My 

of  sound  reason  and  commoa  sense  la  mat- 

ten  of  religion. 

Wheneier  we  neglect  or  despise  these 
sacred  monitors,  the  whimsical  notions  of  a 
perturbated  brain  are  taken  for  the  inimedi- 
.Bte  uiflnencGB  of  tlie  Deity,  and  the  wildest 
ftnaticisni,  and  the  most  ineonstent  absurdi- 
ties, will  meet  with  abettors  and  converts. 
}4ay,  I  hate  often  thought,  that  the  mofe 
ont-of-the-*ay  and  ridiculous  the  fancies 
are,   if  once  they  are  saiwtified  under  the 


taken 


re  the  more  firmly  s 


Mossjiel,  MoBda;,  Momhg.  1736. 
Mv  Dear  Sib.— I  aent  to  Dr.  Dougloa 
Testerday,  fully  resolved  to  tate  the  oppor. 

Doctor  with  a  Mr.  and  Mrs.  White,  both 
Jamaicans,  and  (hey  hare  deranged  my  plana 
altogether.  They  assure  him  that  to  send 
me  from  Savannah  la  Mat  to  Fort  Antoni 
will  cost  my  master,  Charles  Dougla^  u 


ig  mysei 


aplem 


Greenock  the  1st  of  Sepwmher,  right  for 
the  place  of  my  destination.  The  captain 
of  her  is  an  intimate  friend  of  llir.  Gavin 
Hamilton's,  and  as  good  a  fdlow  as  heart 
coulrl  wish :  nitli  him  I  am  destined  to  go. 
^Vhete  I  shall  shelter  I  know  not,  but  I 
hope  to  weather  the  storm.  Perish  the  drop 
of  Wood  of  mine  tlvat  fears  them  I  I  know 
'  eir  worst,  and  am  prepared  to  meet  it  :— 
ru  kugh,  and  ung,  and  shake  my  teg. 

As  tag's  I  dow. 
On  Thursday  morning,  if  you  can  mnstet 
much  self-denial  as  to  be  out  of  bed  about 


through  to  Cumnock.  After  i 
bless  the  sex  I  I  feel  there  is  sti 
for  me  among  them  :— 


I,  Ilea' 


TO  MR.   JOHN   RICHMOND,   EDIN- 
BUKGH.  (2) 

Mossgiel,  Febnuny  17, 1786. 

Mv  nE*K    BiBr— I   have  not  time  at 

present  to  upljriud  you  for  yonr  silence  and 

neglect!  1  sliall  only  say  1  received  youts 

witli  great  pleasure.    I  hare  enclosed  yon  a 

C'  ice  of  rhyming  ware  for  your  pemsBj.     1 
re  been  very  busy  with  the  muses  since  I 
_..5  . ,j^  among  sereral 


—The  C 


called  to  Kilmamodl ; 
Scotth  Drink,  a  poem;  Tlie  Cotter's  Satnrdiqr 
Night;  An  Address  to  the  DevO,  &c  I 
iiave  hkewiae  completed  my  poem  on  the 
Dogs,  but  hare  not  shown  it  to  the  world. 
My  chief  patron  now  is  Mr.  Aiken  in  Ayr, 
who  is  plea-ted  to  eipress  great  appn^Mtion 
of  my  works.  Be  so  good  as  send  me 
Fergusson,  by  Connel,  and  I  will  remit  yoo 
the  money.  I  have  no  news  to  Hcquaint  yon 
ith  about  Mauchline ;  they  are  just  going 


n  the  old  wi 


:h  respect  to  myself,  not  tha 


happy  with  Smith;   he  is  the  only  fHffiid 


lely 
41 


Hooted  by  Google 


LETTER  TO 

hsyenoifinMaooHine.  1  can  scarcely  fbrji™ 
jour  long  neglect  of  me,  and  I  beg  you  will 
let  me  heat  from  ycra  regulEitly  by  CoaoeL 
If  you  would  act  yout  part  as  s  ftiend,  I  am 
sure  neither  good  nor  bad  fortune  should 
stjange  or  aJler  rae.  Eicusc  haste,  as  I  got 
your'a  but  yesterday.    I  em,  my  dear  Sir, 

KosERT  Burns. 


TO  MR.  JOHN  KENNEDY. 

Mosigiel,  Srd  Harch,  1788, 
yaelf  the  pies 


idUis  y< 


implying  with  . 
my  Cottier.    If  you  have 
I  should  be  glad  if  you  would  copy  it  and 
return  me  either  the  original  ot  the  ttana. 

"h'a^e't  ftienTwho  wShS  to  Ite  it. ""' "" 

Now,  Kennedy,  if  foot  or  horse 

E'er  bring  you  in  hy  Manchlinc  Corse  (3), 

Lord,  man,  there's  lasaea  there  wad  force 

Anddoini  the  gate,  iufiiiih,  they're  worse, 

But.  u  I'm  aayiu',  please  step  to  How's, 
And  taste  sic  b^er  aa  Johnnie  brewa, 
Till  some  bit  cullan  bHug  me  news 
That  you  are  there; 


And  Apunkie  ance  to  make  us  mellow 

Now,  if  you're  aue  o'  warld's  folk, 
Wha  rate  the  wearer  by  the  cloak. 
Am!  sklent  on  poverty  their  iote, 

Wi'  biEler  sneer, 
Wi'  you  no  friendship  will  I  troti^ 


Nor 

But  if,  as  I'm  iuforme 
Ye  hate,  as  ill'a  th«  le 
The  fluity  heart  lliit  i 

Hae,  there's  iny  haun 
Andguidh. 


TO  MR.  AIKEN. 

Massgiel,  Srd  April,  1786, 
De*b  Sih.— I  received  your  kind  letter 
with  double    pleaj  '    ' 

second  flatterijtir  ir 


Matagiel,  SO(A  March,  1766. 

Dear  Sir.— I  am  heartily  sorry  I  hid  not 
the  pleasure  o{  seeing  you  as  you  returned 
through  Manchlioe ;  but  as  I  was  engaj;e(l, 
I  could  not  be  in  town  before  the  evening. 

I  here  enclose  you  my  "Scotch  Drink," 

and  "may  the follow"  with  a  blessing  for 

your  ediScation.  I  hope,  some  time  before 
we  bear  the  gowk,  to  have  the  pleasure  o( 
seeing  yoi!  ol  Kilmarnock,  when  I  inlend  we 
sliatt  have  a  gill  between  ua  m  n  mutohkin- 
stoup,  which  will  be  a  great  comfort  and 
consolation  to,  dear  Sir,  your  humble  servant. 


It   of  the 


d  approbation.    I  assure  you  I 

Turn  out  the  burnt  side  o'  my  ibin, 

the  ^moas  Bamsay,  of  jingling  memory, 

..ys,  at  snCh  a  patroness.     Present  her  my 

most  gratcfol  acknouledgemeuts,  in  yout 


leaf  of  Misa  More'a  wort  :— 
Thou  flattering  mark  of  friendship  kind, 
Still  may  thy  pages  call  to  mind 

The  dear,  the  beauteous  donor. 
Though  sweetly  female  every  part. 
Yet  such  a  head,  and  more  the  heart, 

Does  both  Ijie  aeies  honour. 
She  showed  her  taste  refinal  and  just 

When  she  selected  thee. 
Yet  deviating  own  I  must. 


kmd  still.  I  mind  s«l!. 


._  ui  the 


A  friend  above  the  Lift. 
My  proposals  tor  publishing  I  am  just 

TJni  you  by  the  first  opportunity.    I  am, 
ver  dear  Sir,  your's,      Kohbkt  Buews. 


Ho,t,db,  Google 


COKRESPONDENCE  OP  BUIINS. 


TO  MB.  M'WHINNIE,  WRITER,  AYR, 
Motsgiel,  nth  April,  1788. 

It  is  injuring  some  hearts,  those  hearts 
that  elcKsntlj  bear  the  iranreasion  of  the 
good  Creator,  to  say  to  them  you  give  them 
the  trouble  of  obhging  s  friend ;  for  this 
reaaon,  I  only  t«ll  you  that  I  gratify  my  own 
feelinga  in  requesting  yonr  ftiendly  offices 
vith  respect  to  the  enclosed,  beciase  I 
knov  it  will  gcatify  yaun  to  as^st  me  in  it 
to  the  utmost  of  yont  power. 

I  hive  eent  you  four  copies,  as  I  have  no 
Bess  than  eight  dozen,  which  is  a  great  deal 
iDDie  than  I  shall  ever  need. 

Be  sure  to  rememher  a  poor  poet  mihtaiit 
ia  yoBt  prayers.  He  looks  forward  with 
foal  uid  trembling  to  that,  to  him,  unportant 
moment  which  stamps  the  die  with— with— 
with,  perhaps,  the  eternal  disgrace  o 


TO  MR.  JOHN  KENNEDY. 

Mossgiel,  2Dlh  April,  17S8. 

Sir. — Sy  some  neglect  m  Mr.  HamiltOD, 

did  not  hear  of  your  kind  request  for  a  sul 

scriptioD  paper  till  this  day.    I  wQl  ni 

■  ■       rtedeement  for  this,  m 

■-'- mMr. 


attempt  ar 


Hamilton's    tubacription 

only  to  say,  Sir,  I  feel  the  weight  of  the  debt. 

I  hate  here,  likewise,  euclosed  a  small 
piece,  the  very  latest  of  my 
I  am  a  good  deal  pleased  ^ 
ments  myself,  as  they  are 
querulous  feelings  of  a  heai  . 
degantly  melting  Gray  says,  "melaneholy 
has  marked  out  fur  her  owu." 

Our  race  eomes  on  apace — that  i 
expected  scene  of  revelry  and.  mirth : 
to  me  it  brings  no  joy  eqUB.1  to  that  me 
with  which  you  last  flattered  the  exp 
tionof.  Sir,  voui  indebted  bumble  aer 


on  half 

ashed 

of  them.    I  mnst  eonsntt 

you,  first 

oppor 

unity,  on  the  propriety  of 

ending  n 

y  quo 

nd«n  friend,  Mr.  Aiken,  ■ 

opy.    It 

leisD 

ow  reconciled  to  mj  obarae- 

man,  I  would  do  it  with  aU 

lut  I 

ho  noble 

St  beu 

S  ever  God  created,  if  he 

magined 

me  to 

be  »  rascal.     Apropos,  old 

!i  with  him  tc 
ncky  paper  yesterday.  Would  you 
its — though  I  had  not  a  hope,  not 
ish,  to  moke  her  mine  after  her  eon- 

of  the  paper,  my  heart  died  within 
he  cut  my  veins  with  the  neivs. 
a  aeae  her  fuliliood. 

KB. 


TO  MB,  DAVID  BRICE,  (5) 

JfossjiH  June  12,  ITBB 
ceived  your  measi 


a  black 


by  R.  Paten 
strong  St  present,  I  just  wnte  to  let  y 
know  thattVre  is  such  a  worthless,  rhymi 
reprobate,  as  yout  humble  aervanl,  alill 
the  land  of  the  living,  though  I  can  scaro 
say  in  the  plow  of  hope.  I  have  no  ue 
to  tell  yon  that  will  give  me  any  pleasure 

Poor  ill-advised,  ungrateful  Armour  fa 
home  on  Friday  last.  (G)  You  have  hei 
all  the  partieulus  of  that  affair,  and 
affair  it  is.  What  she  thinks  of  her  guuuuM 
now  I  doQ^t  know  ^  one  tiling  I  do  know-^ 
she  has  made  me  completely  miserable. 
Never  man  loved,  or  rather  adored,  a  woman 
more  than  I  did  her ;  and,  to  confess  a  truth 
between  you  and  me,  I  do  still  love  her  to 
distraction  after  all,  though  I  won't  tell  her 

to  do.  My  poor  dear  unfortunate  Jean! 
how  iiappy  have  I  been  in  thy  anna !  It  is 
not  the  losing  her  that  makes  me  so  unhappy, 
but  for  hec  sake  I  feel  most  severely:  I 
foresee  she  is  in  tiie  road  to,  1  am  afraid. 


TO  JOHN  EAUANTINE,  OP  AYR. 


Honoured  Sir. — My  propoaaJs  cai 
hand  last  night,  and,  knowing  that 
would  wish  to  haye  it  in  your  power  I 
me  a  service  as  early  as  an;  boi^,  I  enclose 


mighty  God  fOrgive  het  ingratitude 
and  perjury  to  me,  as  I  from  my  very  soul 
forgive  her ;  and  may  his  grace  be  with  hei 
anil  hiesa  her  m  all  her  future  life 


dissipation  and  riots,  maso 
ing-malchea,  and  other  mi> 
out  of  my  head,  but  *U  in 


of  eternal 
in  my  own 


Hosted  by  Google 


TO   ME.  DAVID  miCB. 


Yau  will  hnve  heard  that  I  urn  going 
coinmencB  poet  in  print ;  and  ta-morrow  i 
works  go  to  the  preH,  I  eipect  it  ndl  bi 
coUiiae  of  about  SOO  pi^a— -it  ia  just  the 


AgTskire,  Jslg,  17f 

MadaH. — I  am  tndy  sorry  I  vras  m 

home    jesterday,  when   1    was    ao    i 

honoured  with  yonr  order  for  my  copies 

plimenta  yon  are  pleased  to  pay  my  p 
abiliciea.  I  am  fuHy  persuaded  that  tlie 
not  auy  class  of  mankind  ao  li^lingly 
to  the  titiUitions  of  applause  ai  the  sons  of 


the  po 

yr  hard  dances  vith 

thos^« 

in  Ufe 

risM 

0  he  polite 

iudBCs, 

lith  the 

Had 

™.phlj 

acquainted  B 

th  me, 

could  n 

t  have  touc 

ed  my 

chord  n: 

K.re  sweetly 

han  by 

attempt 

e    your 

Great  patriot  hero!  ill-  requited  chief! 
The  first  boolt  1  met  with  in  my  early  years, 
^vhich  I  perused  with  pleasure,  was  "  The 
Life  of  Hannibal;"  the  ncit  was  "Tlie 
History  of  Sir  WilUam  Wallace ; "  fbr  several 
of  my  earUer  years  I  had  few  other  authors ; 
and  many  a  solitary  horn  have  I  stole  out, 
efter  the  laborious  vocations  of  the  day,  to 
slied  a  tear  over  their  glorious,  but  iinfottu. 
iiaie  stories.  In  those  boyish  days  I  re- 
nieniher,  in  particular,  being  struck  with 


Ifglen  wood,  with  as  much  devout  cnthu- 


TO  JOhN  BKHMOND  EDINBURGH. 
Mosaji  I  July  9th,  178B. 

With  the  an  cereit  gr  ef  I  read  your 
letter.  Ion  a-e  truly  a  son  of  Eiistortune, 
1  sludl  be  extremely  animus  to  hear  front 
you  how  your  bcalih  goes  on-^f  it  is  any 
way  re-estuhlishing,  or  if  leith  promisea  wdl 
— in  short,  how  yon  fed  in  the  inner  man. 

I  have  waited  on  Armour  since  her  return 
home;  not  from  the  hiast  view  efrecoudlia- 
tion,  but  merely  to  osk  for  her  health,  and, 
to  you  I  will  cmrfess  it,  tcom  a  foolish 
hankering  tondneas,  very  lit  placed  indeed. 
The  moihei  forbade  me  the  honse,  nor  did 
Jean  show  that  penitence  that  might  have 

be«i  expected.    Howt —  "'■ '- -"  '  — 

informed,  (rill  give  n..    _   _. 
if  I  comply  with  tli 


Lch,  for 


Coniiell,    The  Lord  stand  with  tlie  rigliUh 


TO    im.    DAVID   ERICS, 


Mos^lti,  Ju^  17(*,  1786. 

I     HATE 

lecn    so    throng  printing  my 

Poems,  that  I  could  scarcely  timJ  as  much 

write  to  you.    Poor  Armour  is 

mme  back 

again  to  Maucliline,  and  I  went 

lor,  and  her  mother  fbrbade  nw 

the  house. 

nor  did  she  herself  eipress  much 

sorrow  fo 

what  she  has  done.      I  bava 

already  ap 

cared  puhlidy  in  chureb,  and  was 

II  the  liberty  of  standing  in  my 

Ho,t,db,  Google 


October.      Jean  m 

3  he 

frienda    in»ist«d 

ornch  that  she  sho 

nd  along  with  me 

in  the  k!rl:,  but  the  miD» 

it,  which  bred  a  gre 

UMass^^r 

Bud  I  HDi  blumed  aa 

the 

auae  of  it.  though 

1  >m  sure  I  am  in 

;   but  I  am  very 

ranch  pleased,  for  a! 

ihat 

not  to  have  )uid 

her  eoinpany.    1  ha 

now,  to  tell  yoa 

that  1  tEiiiember. 

'am 

really  happy  to 

hear  of  your  welft 

e,  an 

that  yon  are  so 

•eU  in  Glasgow.    I 

certiunlT  see  von 

before  I  leave  the 

jinntty.    I  eliall  e^iiect 

n,  au 

d  am,  dear  Biice. 

joun. 

KB. 

CORKESPOSDESCE  OP  Bml^'S. 

You  will  have  heard  that  poor  Armonr 
liaa  repaid  nue  double.  A.  very  line  boy  and 
a  girl  have  awalieued  a  thought  and  feelLogs 

Borne  with  foreboding  anguish,  tlirough  my 

llw  poem  was  nearly  an  eitemporaneoua 
production,  on  a  wa^r  uith  Air.  Hamilton, 
that  I  woidd  not  produce  a  poem  ou  the 
subject  in  a  given  time. 

If  you  think  it  worth  while,  read  it  to 
Charles  and  Mr  W.  Parker,  and  if  they 


TO  MIL  JOUN  RICH5I0ND. 
Oid  Jiswe  Foresl,  Jal^  SOIh,  1786. 
Mr  DEAREiCHMOSD.— Myborir  is  noi 
■CTcaa — you  and  I  will  never  meet  in  Britai 
more.  I  have  orders  within  three  weeks  e 
fttthest,  to  repair  aboard  the  Nancy,  Caplai 
Smith,  from  Clyde  to  Jamaica,  and  to  call  u 


they  keep  au  entire  seoiet,  but  I  got  it  by  a 
channel  tbey  little  dream  of;  and  1  am 
wandering  from  one  friend^a  house  to  another, 
and,  like  a  true  boh  of  tlie  gospel,  "havenn- 
nhere  to  [ay  my  head."    I  loiow  you  will 


the 


titil  her  latest 


injured, 

■       nntLl  her  latest  houi . _. 

u  my  miaer^lfl 
Bituation— exiled,  abandoned,  forlorn.  I  can 
mite  no  more — let  me  hear  trma  you  by  the 

1  am,  dear  Sir,  yours,  here  aud  hereafter. 

Kb. 

TO    MR.    ROBERT    5IUIR,    KIUiiaB- 

KOCK. 

Jfoiwrie'.  Friday  Morning,  [Aag.  1786.] 

Mt    Fkiend,   mv    Bboiheb — Warm 

'recollection  of  au  absent  friend  presses  so 

hard  upon  my  heart,  that  I  aeiid  him  the 

prefixed  bagatelle  fllie  Calf),  pleased  with 

the  thouglit  that  it  will  greet  the  mau  of  my 

bOBom.  and  be  a  kind  of  distant  languaee  ol 

irieudahip. 


e  all  hopes  of  stayi  g  at  home,  ^ 
t  of   e  t  week   jou  shutl  be  tr 


TO  MR  JOHN  KENNEDY. 

Kit   or  mk  Angiat,  1780. 
Mt  Dfar    em— Tur  truly  fiicedons 
[liatie  of  the  8rd      sta  t  gave  me  much 

le  pleasure  of  ceeiufi  you  as  1  p3^ei\  youi 
ay,  but  we  shall  bring  up  all  our  lee-way 
a  Wednesday,  the  16th  current,  when  I 


tud  take  a  kind,  very  probably,  a  last  ailieu, 
lefiire  1  go  to  Jamaica ;  and  I  eii>ect  orders 
fl  repair  to  Greenock  eirery  day.  I  have  at 
a?t  made  my  public  appearance,  and  am 

;hn9.  Could  I  have  got  a  carrier,  you 
ihould  have  had  a  score  of  vonchera  for  my 
uitborsbip ;  but,  now  you  have  them,  let 
.hem  speak  for  themselves. 


ell,  dear  frle; 


iy  guid  luck  hityoi^ 


:a  admi 


fay  naiie  believe  him. 

And  ony  deil  tliat  thinks  to  get  you, 

Qcmd  Lord,  deceive  him. 


TO  MR  snRNESS,  MOXTROSK 
Maa,^id,  2\itsdny  boob,  Sept.  26. 1788. 


imth  of  a  friend's  welcome.     Whatevei 


Ho,t,db,  Google 


TO  MR.   ROCEUT  AIKES. 


eomes  from  yon  wakens  aluava  np  the  I 
tM  blood  about  raj  beart,  which  yoiit  I 
little  reeolleotiom  of  my  pHrentol  ftie 
carries  gs  fur  as  it  will  go.  Tia  tliefe  I 
man  is  blest !— Til  tbere,  my  fiicnd,  i 


the  hoary  (euthly)  anthoi 


him  above  < 

the  woman ... 

tender  yearnings  ofheai 

nature  has  poured  in  milky  streams  about 
the  linman  heart;  and  the  man  who  never 

fluences  of  their  proper  objeets,  loses  by  fu 
the  most  pleasurable  part  of  liis  eiisteuce. 

My  departure  is  uucerLaiu,  but  I  do  not 
thmk  it  will  be  till  after  haivesL  I  vill  be 
on  very  sbort  allo^vance  of  ume  indeed,  if  I 
do  not  comply  wilh  your  fiieudly  imitation. 
'When  it  will  be,  I  don't  kuow,  but  if  1  can 
make  my  oish  good,  I  will  endearoiir  to  drop 
vou  a  line  some  time  before.  My  best  coDl- 
0  Mrs.  B.;    1  should  be  equaH^ 


Utile 


mortified  si 

abcoud ;  hut  of  that  I  suppose  there  i 

Wliit  I  Save  wrote  Hearen  trnOH's ; 
not  time  to  review  it ;  so  ao^cpt  of  it 
heateii  way  of  ftienJ-thip.  Wicii  the  or 
phrase  —  perhopj  rather  more  tliai 
ordinary  aioeeticy — 1  am,  dear  8u-, 
yours,  K 


TO  MR  KOBEltr  AIKEN.  (7) 

Ayishir^,  1798. 

Sir. — I  wa3  with  Wilson  my  printer  t'ollier 
dav,  and  setcied  all  our  bvj^uuB  matMrs  be- 
tween us.  After  I  liail  paiil  him  all  demands, 
I  made  him  the  olTer  of  tlie  second  edition, 
oil  the  baaard  of  being  pairl  out  of  Che  lint 
tui.l  readiest,  which  he  declines.  By  his 
account,  the  paper  of  1000  copies  would  eoat 
abuut  tweuty-seven  pounds,  and  the  printing 
about  fifteen  or  aistcen ;  lie  offers  to  agree 
to  this  tor  the  printing,  it  I  will  advance  for 
the  papet,  but  tliis  yon  know,  is  out  of  my 
power ;  so  ftireucll  hopes  of  a  aecurd  edition 
till  I  grow  lichee !  an  epoch  which  1  think 
will  arrive  at  the  payment  of  tlio  British 
national  debt. 

Tliere  is  scarcely  any  thing  hurts  me  so 
mueli  in  being  disappointed  of  my  second 


withw 


pleased  with  myself  in  n^ 
grateful  sensations ;  but  I  believe,  on  ttie 
whole,  I  have  very  little  merit  in  i^  as  my 
gratitudfl  ia  not  a  virtiut,  the  coiiaGquencfl  ol 
reflection,  but  shelly  the  instinctive  anotioa 
of  my  heart,  too  inattentive  to  aHair  worhlly 
maxims  and  views  to  settleinto  selfish  habits, 
I  have  heen  feehug  all  the  various  rota- 
tions and  movements  within,  respecting  tho 
excise.  There  are  ma»y  things  plead  strongly 
against  it ;  the  uncertainty  of  getting  kkhi 
into  business ;  the  consequences  of  my  tol- 
lies, which  may  perliaps  make  it  impracticnblfl 
for  me  to  ati^  at  home ;  and  beaidea,  1  have 
fin  some  time  been  piuiug  under  secret 
wretchedness,  from  causes  which  you  pretty 
well  know: — thepangof  diaopnoJntraent,the 
sting  of  pride,  with  some  wandering  slabs  of 
remone,  which  never  fail  to  settle  on  my 
vitals  tike  vultures,  wlien  attention  is  not 
called  away  by  the  calls  of  society,  or  the 
vi^aries  of  the  muse.  Even  in  the  liuur  of 
social  mirtli,  my  guiety  is  the  mudness  of  an 
intoxicated  criminal  under  the  hands  of  the 
executioner.  All  Cliese  reasons  unre  me  lo 
go  abroad,  and  to  sU  th.:se  n 


lulan 


_.,_ _.._„_  of  a  fiitker. 

I  present  mood  1  am  in,  ovcf. 
-y  thii%  that  eau  be  laid  in  the 

You  may  perhaps  think  it  an  citravaTant 
lucy.  but  it  is  a  scDtimcut  which  strikes 
ome  to  my  very  soul ;  though  sccplical  iu 

hai  e  every  evidence  for  the  reality  of  a  lite 
ejond  the  stinted  boun 


jj  of  that  ti 


loiime  of  our  present 
I,  how  should  lin  theT 
IS  Being,  the  Au- 


reproaclics  of  those  who  stand  to  me  in  the 
dair  ceUtiou  of  children,  whom  I  deserted  in 
the  smiling  innocency  f^  helpless  in&m^  ? 
Oh  thou  great  unknown  Power  I — thou  Al- 
mighty Ood  I  who  hast  lighted  up  reason  ia 
my  breast,  and  blessed  me  with  immortality  I 
— I  hai-c  frequently  waJidered  from  that 
order  eJid  regularity  necessary  for  the  per- 
fection of  lliy  works,  yet  thou  hast  neiei  left 
me  nor  fijrs^n  me  I 

Since  I  wrote  the  foregoing  sbeel^  I  bava 
seen  something  of  tlic  storm  of  mischief 
tiiickeniiig  over  my  folly-devoted  head. 
Sliould  you,  my  friends,  my  bcne^etors,  ha 


Ho,t,db,  Google 


C0KUESPO>"DESCE  OF  BURSS. 


dorinf;  with  joar  tind  oiler,  or  eDJojinj  i 
only  threnlen  to  entail  fiuther  misery  •  • 

To  tell  tlie  (riitb,  I  have  little  reaaoii  fo 
complaint ;    as  the  world,  in  general,  ha 

n-Bs,  Col  tome  time  past,  fast  getting  int 
the  phiing,  distrustful   snul  of  the  miaan 

Btcujigle  of  life,  sliriiiking  at  evet?  riun; 
cloud  in  the  chauce-direcled  atmosphere  o 
fortune,  while,  all  defenceless,  1  looked  abon 
in  isin  for  a  cover.  It  nerer  oeairred  to  iu( 
at  least  neier  with  the  force  it  deserved,  tha 
this  world  is  a  husy  scene,  and  man  a  ctea 
ture  destined  for  a  pro^cs^ve  struggle ;  am 
that,  howecer  1  miglit  possess  a  trsna  hear 
and  iDoffensive  manners  (which  last,  by 
s  rather  more  than  I  could 


boast) 


.'elt 
ve  qnali. 
ties,  there  was  something  to  be  done.  'When 
el)  my  acbool-tellows  and  youihtul  compeers 
(those  miaguided  few  escepted,  who  joined, 
to  use  a  Gentoo  phrase,  the  "  hallachores"  of 
the  human  race)  were  striking  otf  with 

of  the  many  patlis  of  busy  Kte,  I  was  "  i 
ing  idle  in  the  market-place,"  or  oid; 
the  chase  of  the  butterfly  ftom  flow 

Touee 


TO  MRS.  STEWART,  OF  STAIR. 
17SS. 
Madam. — The  hurry  of  my  prmarations 
tor  going  abroad  has  hindered  me  from  net- 

I  have  here  sent  you  a  parcel  of  songs,  &c., 
which  never  made  their  appearance,  except 
to  a  friend  or  two  at  most.  Perhaps  some 
of  them  may  be  no  great  enleitainmeiit  to 
yoD,  but  of  that  I  am  for  from  being  an  ade- 
qnstejadge.  TheaongtothetuneofEttiict 
Banks  ffbe  Bonnie  Lass  of  Ballochmyle), 
you  win  easily  see  the  impropriety  of  eipoai- 


;  meni,  oom  as  a  loierable  dcs- 

one  of  nature's  sweetest  scenes,  a    &&  &c  '&c. 

ig,  and  one  of  the  finest  pierea  of  |  discovered 


out  u'hielt  I  would  not  dare  to  spread  the 
copy, 

I  am  quite  aware.  Madam,  what  task  the 
world  would  assign  me  in  this  lettw.  Tha 
obscure  bard,  wlien  any  of  tlie  great  conde- 

altar  with  the  iucense  of  flattery.  Tlieir 
high  ancestry,  OiMr  own  great  and  god-like 
qualities  ami  actions,  ahonld  be  recounted 
with  the  most  eiag^emted  dcseriptlom  This, 
Madam,  is  a  task  for  which  1  am  altogether 
uuiit.     Besides  a  certain  diaqualiiying  pride 

real  characlei'  la  to  be  found — the  company 
of  your  compeer: ;  and  more,  I  am  afraid 
that  eveu  the  most  reflned  aduloUon  is  by  no 


did  thoiie  in  eialted  stations  kuow  how  liiippy 
they  could  make  lome  classes  n(  their 
inferiors  by  condescension  and  affability, 
they  would  never  stand  ao  high,  meaaurnig 

vntion,  but  conilescend  M  sweetly  as  did 


undred  and  fifty-nine  (10),  Poet 
and  Bard-m-Chiet,  in  and  over  the 
es  of  Kyle,  Cunuiugham, 


and  Carrick,  of  ohl  Client,  'J 
well-beloved  William  Chi" 
M'Adam,  students  and  pi 
ancient  and  mysterious  ani 
ing  HTight  and  wrong. 
Right  Trusty — Be  It 


a   and  John 
of  confound- 


igi  over  the  order  and  poUce  of  all 
idry  the  manufacturers,  retainera,  and 
1  of  poesy;   bards,  poets,  poetasters. 


Ho,t,db,  Google 


TO  JOHN  BALLATINE,   iiaQ. 


277 


Rnrt  ihdted  Bong  or  hallaa,  a  eony  whereof 
We  have  here  enclosed ;  Our  WQl  (heroroce 
ia  that  ye  pitch  upon  and  nppoinC  tho  most 
eiecrahlc  iodividual  of  that  most  esecisble 
sn^iea,  knovn  by  the  appeUatioiLr  phrase^ 
and  nickname  of  The  Deil's  Yell  Nowte  (H) : 
and  after  having  caused  lum  ta  IciudLe  a  lire 
at  tlie  Cross  of  &yr,  ye  shall,  at  noon-tide  of 
the  day,  put  into  tlie  said  wretch's  mereitesi 
hands  the  said  copy  of  the  said  neferious 
and  wicked  soug,  to  lie  consumed  by  fire  in 
presence  of  all  beholders,  in  abhorrence  of, 
and  terror  to,  sll  sucli  eompoeitiona  and 
cnmposera.    And  this"    '     ' 


It  bate 


culed  ir 


■ery  poir 


mandate  bears, 
fourth  current,  when  ia  person  We  hope  to 
applaud  your  ^itbfulnesa  and  «al, 

Uiven  at  Mauchline  tliis  twentieth  day  of 


EdMarsK  Dec.  7«,  1788. 


baps  you  w 


.e  liesrd  before 


lOURht 

by  a  John  Gordon,  W.  S.,  but  for  whom  I 
know  not;  Mauchlaiids,  Haugh  Uiln.  &c., 
by  a  Frederick  Fotheringhiuu,  supposed  to 
be  for  Bttllochmyle  Jjurd;  And  Adam-hill 
and  Shawood  were  bought  for  Oswald's  folks. 
I'bis  is  so  imperfect  an  acconnt,  mid  will  be 
so  late  ere  it  reach  you,  that  were  it  not  to 
discharge  my  conscicucQ  1  would  not  trouble 
you  with  it;  bul;  after  all  my  diliseuce  I 
could  make  it  no  sooner  nor  better. 

For  my  own  affairs,  I  am  in  a  fair  way  of 
becomii^  as  euiineut  as  'llioinas  it  Eempis 

forth  tu  see  my  birth-dky  inserted  among  the 

Aberdeen  Almanacks,  along  with  the  black 
Monday,  and  the  battle  of  Bothwell-bridge. 
My  Lord  Gleucairn  and  the  Deui  of  Faculty, 
Mr.  H.  Erskine,  have  taken  me  under  their 
wiur  1  and  by  all  probnbihty  I  sliall  soon  be 
eutb  aorthy,  ami  the  eiglilh 


ofth 


'fhrough  uiy  lord's  i 


shall  bafe  some  of  them  neit  post.  I  have 
met  in  Mr.  Dalrymyle  of  Orangefield,  what 
Solomon  emphattc^ly  calls  "a  friend  that 
sticketh  closer  than  a  brother."  The  warmth 
with  which  he  interests  himaelf  in  my  affairs 
is  of  the  same  enthusiastic  feind  which  yoa, 
Mr,  Aiken,  and  the  few  patrons  that  took 
notice  of  my  earlier  poetic  days,  showed  for 
the  poor  unlucky  devil  of  a  poet. 

I  t^ways  remember  Mrs.   Hamilton  and 
Itfiss  Kennedy  in  my  poetic  prayers,  but  yon 
botli  in  prose  and  verse. 
May  cauU  ne'er  catch  you  but  a  hap  (12), 
Nor  hunger  hut  in  plenty's  lap  ! 

Amen !  R  B. 


light,  ai 


celcs 


town  with  a  miscrahle  hsud-ache  and  stomach 
complaint,  but  am  now  a  good  deal  better. 
I  have  fnund  a  worthy  warm  friend  in  Mr. 
Dalrymple  of  Orangelield,  who  intcodoced 
me  to  Lord  Glencaim,  a  man  whose  worth 
and  htolherly  kindness  to  me  I  shall  remem- 
ber when  time  shull  be  no  more.  By  his 
interest  it  is  passed  in  the  "Caledonian 
Hunt,"  and  entered  in  their  booiis,  that  they 
are  to  take  eudi  a  copy  of  the  second  edition, 
for  which  tliey  ore  to  pay  one  gumea.  I 
have  been  intniduced  to  a  good  many  of  the 
noileat,  bat  my  avowed  patnms  and  patro- 
nesses are,  the  Duchess  of  Gordon— the 
Countess  of  Glencairn,  with  my  Lord,  and 
lady  Betty  (13)— the  Dean  of  Faculty- 
Sir  Jolm  Whilefaord.  I  liave  likewise  warm 
friends  among  the  literati ;  Professors  Stew- 
art, Blair,  and  Mr.  Mackeniie— the  "  Man  of 
Feeling,"  An  unknown  hand  left  ten  gnineea 
for  the  Ayrshire  bard  with  Mr.  Sibbald,  which 
I  got.  I  since  have  discovered  my  generous 
unknown  friend  to  be  Patrick  Miller,  Esq., 
brother  to  tlie  Justice  Clerk,— and  drank  a 


with  him  by  in 


nearly  agreed 
with  Creech  to  print  my  book,  and  I  suppose 
I  will  begin  on  Monday.  I  wUI  send  a 
subsn'iption  btll  or  two,  next  post;  «hea 
I  mtend  vntmg  to  my  first  kind  patnm. 


Ho,t,db,  Google 


COItUKSrOIVDESCE  OF  BURNS. 


Mr.  Ailen.      I  mw  his  son  to-day,  and  1 
Tery  «ell. 

Du^ald  Steiart,  and  some  of  my  learn. 


called    ] 
[  bere 
I  wu  Stat    - 


the  Lounger  (14,)  a  copy  of  whi 

enclose  j-ou.    I  was,  Sir,  whe-  ' 

honoured  with  your  notice, 

DOW  1  tremble  lest  I  should 

being  dragged  too  auddenlj  iuto  the  g]xit 


better  health  a 


itofmj 


ly  every  3t 


ich  this  paragraph,  yon  wiD 
d  spun  tiQce  I  passed  Glen- 
n  the  Addics»  to  Edinburgh 


I  have  had  the  h 


-e  of  Andteir  Druca, 


TO  DR.  MACKENZIE,  MAUCHLINEi 


Edinbitn/'i,  Dec.  21th,  17B 
My  Dbar  FttiEND. — I  confess  I  '. 
eitiued  the  sn  for  which  there  is  hardly  any 

not  writing  you  sooner;  bnt  of  all  met 
iii'iog,  I  hod  intended  to  have  sent  yon  ai 
entertaiuiiig  letter ;  and  by  all  the  ploddhig, 
stupid  powers,  that  in  nodding  cone  "  ' 
miyesty  preside  over  the  dnil  rontii 
bueiness — a  hea.TiljF-soleiiin    oath  thi! 


humour  as  to  write  a  oommentary  on  the 
Itevehition  of  St.  John  the  Divine,  aho  was 
banished  to  the  Iste  of  Patmos  by  the  cruel 
and  bloody  Domilian,  son  to  Vespasian  and 
brother  to  Titus,  both  emperors  of  Kome, 

the  second  or  third  penecutiati,  I  forget 
vhicli,  against  the  Christians,  and  after 
throning  the  said  Apostle  John,  brother  to 
the  Apostle  James,  conunonly  called  James 
the  Greater,  to  distmguish  him  from  another 


WednetOss  Morm«3,  1737. 
,B  Sitt.— I  never  spent  an  aftenioon 
great  folks  with  half  that  pleasure, 
■0,  in  company  with  you,  I  had  the 
'  of  paying  my  devoirs  to  that  pluo, 
,  worthy  man,  the  professor  [Diigald 
t].     I  iruuld  be  delighted  to  see  him 


oil,  froi 

«rved,  ne  oanisneu  vat 

he  was  gifted  with  the 


hich   he  was  miraculously  pre- 
lanished  the  poor  son  of  Zebedee    i 


ids  tlms — four 
parrs  Socralea — four  parts  Nathaniel — and 
two  parts  3ltakspeare's  Brutus. 

The  fijregoiug  verses  were  teallv  ex- 
tempore, but  a  Ultle  corrected  since.  They 
may  eutertiun  yon  a  little,  with  the  help  of 
that  partiality  with  which  you  ve  so  good 
as  to  favour  the  performances  of,  dear  Sir, 


TO  JOHN  BALLANTINE,  Esq. 
JoiiBoiy,  1787. 
While  here  I  sit,  sod  and  solitary,  by 
the  side  of  a  lire  in  a  httle  country  inn.  and 

fello-v  of  a  sodger,  and  tells  me  is  going  to 


•h  tlie  ni^dc  of  that 
,  conjured  up,  1  will 


Ye  flowery  hanis  o'  bonnie  Doon, 


Ho,t,db,  Google 


TO  THE  BARI,  OF  EGLINTON. 
EdMarijk,  Jamaiy,  1787. 
Mi  Lobd. — A<  I  have  bat  slender  pre- 
taiaiou)  to  pliiloaopliy,  I  cannot  riae  to  the 

have  all  those  uotionnl  prejudices  which, 
I  beLieve,  flow  peeuliarlj  tUong  iii  the  breast 
of  a  3c<ilcii!uaa.  There  is  scarcely  anything 
to  uhiL'h  I  Din  90  feelingly  alive  na  the 
hoiiont  and  welfare  of  my  country  ;  and  as 
a  poet,  1  have  uo  higher  enjoyme 


and  daug 


Life ;  but  never  did  a  heart  pant  more 
ardently  tlian  mine  to  be  distinguialLed, 
lliough  till,  very  lately,  1  looked  in  vain  on 
every  side  for  a  ray  of  light.  It  is  easy, 
then,  To  guess  how  much  I  was  gratified 
with  the  counteuance  and  approbiition  of 

^f  lieu  Mr.  ^Vauchope  called  on  me  yesterday 
on  the  part  of  your  iordahip.  Tour  mu- 
nifieeiice,  my  lord,  certaiuly  deaerves  my 
Tcry  grateful  ac^taowledgnienta ;  but  yuur 
patronage  ia  a  bounty  peculiarly  aiiited  to 
my  feelmga.  I  am  not  maater  enough  of 
the  etiijuette  of  life  to  kuow,  whether  there 
he  uot  some  impropriety  ia  ttouUing  yonr 
lordship  with  jny  thajdsa,  but  my  heart 
whispered  me  to  do  it,  from  the  emotions 
of  my  iamou  soui  I  do  it.  SelfiMh  in- 
gratitude, 1  hope,  I  am  incapable  of;  and 


mudi  h 


It,  I  si 


KB. 


TO  JOHN  BALLANTINE,  Eao. 
Ediiibursk,  Jan.  Uth,  1787. 
Mv  UoKOUREn  FniEND.— It  gives  me  a 

am  not  jet  >o  &r  gone  aa  Willie  Gaw"! 
Bkale,  "past  redemption  i"  {15)  for  I  have 
still  this  thvonrable  aj-mptom  at  grace,  that 


uiiiliina  ihal  I  ought  to  do,  it  teases  me 

1  am  still  "liark  aa  waa  chaos"  in  respect 
to  fuiutiiy.  My  generous  iriend,  Mr. 
Patrick   Miller,  has  been  talking  with  me 


that  I  wis  be  happier  anywhere  than  in  m; 
old  ne%lihourUood,  but  Mr.  Miller  ia  no 
judge  of  land ;  anJ  tliongb  I  dare  say  he 


e,  yet  h. 


lay  give 


his  opinion,  an  advantageouaba  „ 

ruin  me.  I  am  to  take  a  tour  by  Dumfries  as  I 

Millet  on  his  lands  some  time  in  May. 

I  Tent  to  a  mason-lo^  vestemiglit, 
where  the  moat  Worshipful  Grand  Master 
Chartres,  and  all  the  Grand  Lodge  of  Scot- 
land, viaited.  Tlie  meeting  was  niunerona 
and  ele^rant  [  all  the  diffeient  lodges  ^out 
(own  were  present,  in  all  their  pomp.  Tho 
Grand  Master,  who  presided  with  great 
Bolemnity  and  honour  Co  hiioself  as  ageolle- 
man  and  maaon,  nmong  other  general  loasta, 
gave  "Caledonia,  and  Caledonia's  Batd, 
Brother  Bums,"  which  rang  through  the 
whole  aaseiably  with  multiplied  honauca  and 
repeated  acclatoations.  As  I  had  no  idea 
auch  a  thing  would  happen,  I  waa  duvnti^t 
thimderslruck,  and,  trembling  in  every  nerves 
made  the  best  return  in  my  power.  Jna(  as 
I  had  flnished,  soma  of  the  grand  officets 

comforting   accent,   "Very  n-ejt,  indeed  I" 
which  sat  ma  something  to  rights  agaui, 

i  have  toJay  corrected  my  ioSod  page. 
My  best  good  wishes  to  Mr.  Aiken, 
1  am  ever,  dear  Sir,  your  much  indebted 


TO  MRS.  DUNLOP. 

EduJitir^li,  Jaimanj  15(ft,  1787. 

Madam.— Yours  of  tlie  9th  cnrrentwhioh 

X  am  this  moment  honoured  with,  is  a  deep 

reproach  to  me' foe  ungrat^nl  neglect.    I 

ably  anknard  at  a  Sb,  t  wished  to  baie 
wntlen  to  Dr.  Moore  before  I  wrote  to  yoo  j 
but,  though  ei  ery  day  since  I  recaved  youn 
of  December  30th,  the  idea,  the  wiah  to 
write  to  him,  haa  constantly  pressed  on  my 
thoughts,  yet  1  eould  not  foe  my  aoul  set, 
about  it.  I  know  his  feme  and  charactn, 
and  I  am  one  of  "the  sous  of  little  men." 
To  write  him  a  mere  matter-of-fact  aflair, 
lifie  a  merchant's  order,  would  be  liiegracinj 
the  little  chatacter  1  have  %  and  to  write  tiie 
author  of  "  The  View  of  ijodety  and  Mini. 
ueca"  a  letter  of  sentiment— I  declard  evefy 
artery  runa  cold  at  the  tliought,    I  shaU 

■  !St  day.  His  kind  interposition  in  my 
:half  1  have  aheady  aiperteuced,  as  a  geih 


Ho,t,db,  Google 


C0ET1E3P0KDP,XCE  OF  EOUKS. 


tletBKD  vti(«d  oa  me  the  other  day,  on  the 
part  of  Lotd  Eglincoii,  with  ten  guineiu.  by 
vay  of  subscri|»tion  for  tno  copiea  of  my 

The  word  yon  object  to  in  the  mention  I 


my  glori 


Linlryma 


borrowed 
)t  strike  me  ns 
an  impropet  epithet.  1  diatrualcd  my  omi 
Judgment  ou  your  finding  fault  wit]i  it,  and 
i^j^ed  tar  die  ojiiniou  ot  some  of  the 
litenti  here  who  honour  rae  with  their 
eriticat  strictures,  and  tliey  all  allow  it  to  be 
proper.  The  soug  yon  ask  1  cannot  recol- 
lect, and  1  have  not  a.  aifj  of  it.  I  have 
not  composed  any  thing  on  the  great 
Willace,  eieept  what  yon  have  seen  in 
print,  and  the  enclosed,  wliich  1  vill  print  in 
this  edition.    You  will  Bee  I  have  meniioued 


a  deacriplion  of 
tjoua]  Btanzas  a 
stood.  My  hear 
able  to  do  Jusi 
"  sBTiouT  of  hia 
Uler,  I  ah 


VVhei 


which.  « 


I  know  myaelf  an 


d  1  shall  grow  inCoiicated 

itv  as  a  i»et ;  alas  I  iladam, 

too  well    I  do 

am  willing  to  believe  tliat  my  abilities 
deserve  some  notice;  but  iii  a  most  en- 
lightened, informed  age  and  nation,  when 
poetry  is  «iid  lias  been  the  study  of  men  of 
the  firat  natural  gemua,  aided  with  all  ilie 
powers  of  polite  learning,  polite  hooks,  and 
polite  company — to  be  dragged  forth  to  tl« 

with  all  my  imperfectious  of  awkward  rus- 
ticity and  crude  unpolished  ideaa  ill  my 
head — 1  assure  you.  Madam,  1  do  not  dis- 
semble when  I  tell  you  I  tremble  fiic  the 
consequences.  The  novelty  of  a  poet  in  my 
obscure  situation,  without  any  of  those 
advantages  which  are  reckoned  neceaanry 
for  that  character,  at  least  at  tliis  time  01 
day,  has  raised  a  partial  tide  of  public 
notiee  which  has  borne  me  to  a  height, 
tvhere  I  am  absolutely,  feeUngly  certain,  my 
abilities  are  inadequate  to  support  me;  and 
too  surely  do  I  see  that  time  when  the  same 
tide  will  leave  me,  and  recede,  perhaps,  as 
lai  below  the  mark  of  truth.  I  do  not  say 
this  in  the  ridiculous  all'ectatioa  of  self. 

myself,  and  know  what  ground  I  occupy ; 
and  however  a  friend  or  tlie  world  may  differ 

own  D|Hniau,  in  silent  lesolv^  with  all  the 


;;di 

do  not  wish  to  hear  or  say  more  about 

it.    But. 

IVheu  proud  fortune's  ebbing  tide  recedes. 

yon  n 

11  bear  me  witness,  that  when  my 

bubbl 

of  tame  was  at  the  highest,  I  stood 

nniuto 

o^aled.  with  the  inebriatii«  cun  in 

my  hand,  lool  in;  forward  with  nietrd  resolve 

basteujug   time  when  the  blow  of 

calum 

ly  should  dash  it  to  the  ground,  with 

Blithe 

Yon 

yours 

f  in  my  tame  and  character  as  a  poet, 
ce  in— it  cialts  me  iu  my  own  idea— 

I  rejo 

andw 

my  su 

bscription,  is  a  trifle.    Has  a  paltry 

BUbscr 

p'.ion-bill  any  charms  to  the  heart  of 

a  bard 

compared  with  tlie  patronage  ot  the 

descei. 

dant  of  the  immortal  Wallace? 

TO  DB.  MOOKB.    (Ifi) 

EdiubuT^h,  Jan.  1787. 
Sin. — Jlrs.Dunlnp  has  been  so  kind  as  to 


a  manner,  by  judges  ot  the  first  eharacter. 

only  I  am  sorry  tliey  mostly  caniB  too  latej 
s  jieccant  passage  or  two  that  I  would  ce> 
tamly  have  altered,  were  ^ne  to  the  press. 
The  hope  to  be  admired  for  ages,  is,  in  hy 
far  the  greater  part  of  those  even  who  are 

For  my  part  my  lirat  ambition  waa,  and  still 
my  strongest  iriah  is,  to  please  my  compeers, 
tlut  rustic  inmates  <^  the  hamlet,  while  ever- 
changing  laugul^e  and  manners  shall  allow 
me  to  be  rdished  and  imderatood.  I  am 
very  willing  to  admit  that  1  hace  some  poe- 
tic^ abilitlet ;  and  as  few,  if  any  writers, 
poetical,  arc  intimately  ac- 


inted  wkh  Ih 


Bukiud  an 


whom  I  have  chiefly  miugle4  I  may  have 
seen  men  and  manners  in  n  dilTcrent  ^hasia 
irom  what  is  common,  which  may  assist 
originality  of  thought.  Still  I  know  very 
wdl  the  novelty  of  my  character  has  by  (Or 
the  grealeet  sluire  in  the  learneil  end  pohte 
notice  I  have  lately  had ;  and  iu  a  huiguaga 


Ho,t,db,  Google 


TO  JAAIES  D\LIf\MPLE,  ESQ. 


where  Pope  and  ChMtchiH  h»ve  raiaed  the 

celebrated  "  Atan  of  Feeling,"  paid  to  Mir 

iaugh  md  Slienstooe  aud  Gray  dtaiin  (he 

lanrie  the  other  night  at  the  ennoert    I 

tear      nliere    lliomaou   and  Beatlie  hare 

painted  the  landscape    aid  Lyttl  ton  an! 

by  ]um  till  I  3^w  Mi»  Lawne  m  a  <eat  not 

Coll .  s  de3cr  h»d  tl  e  hearl  I  anx  not  vain 

lery  dutant    aud  nent   up   to   pay  my 

eno  t,h   to   hope   f  r   dwt  n„aished  p.  etu! 

respecla  to  her     On  my    return    to  M(. 

fame.                                                  R.  B 

Markensie    he  aaled  me  who  the  naa;   I 

fold  him  'taa,  the  danghter  of  a  reverend 

friend  of  m.iie  in  the  -rest  eoiwtry     He 

returned,  tbeie  nas  somethmg  lecy  striking, 

TO  THE  KEV  C   LiWRlE, 

desirini-  to   know  what   it  was,   he   was 
plensed  to  Bsy,  "  She  has  a  great  deal  of  the 

elegance  of  a  well-bred  My  about  her,  with 

Ed   b  rs    Feb,  5M,  1787. 

oil  the  aweet  simplicity  of  n  country  girl." 

Be       d      n  D     b  Sib.— When  I 

of  Sc,  Maraarec's.    I  »ra,  my  dear  Sir,  youra 

loo           h    d         S  y        kind  letter,  my 

most  gratefuny,              BoB^BT  Butuvs. 

hea     re         h      m            ely  with  inirrati- 

d           eglec     I       1    Etoansvferit.    I 

vsy  of  apalngy,  of  my  hurried  life  and  dia- 
traeted  attention;  do  me  the  justice  to 
believe  that  my  d^y  by  no  meanaproceeOcd 
from  want  of  respect,  I  feci,  aud  ever  shall 
feel  for  you,  the  mingled  sentimcnufor  a 

I  thank  you.  Sir,  with  ell  my  aoul,  for 
yourftiendlyluata,tUoughIdo  noliieedthem 
■0  much  as  myftieuds  sre  ajit  to  imiij^ne. 

II  ara  dazslcd  with  newspaper 


.        ;   but,m 
0  great  temptation  to  be  in 


ality,  I  have 


worthy,  si 


;  I)ut  I  ue  the  time 
he  popular  tide,  which 
height  of  which  1  am 
aU  recede  with  ailent 


B<md,  to  descend  at  my  t«sure  to  my  fi:>rmer 
station,  1  du  not  si^  this  in  the  aObclatiou 
of  modesty;  X  sea  the  couaequence  ia  un- 
avoidable, aud  am  prepared  for  it,  1  had 
oeeii  at  a  good  deal  of  pains  to  form  a  just, 
impartial  estimate  of  my  intellectual  powers 

I  came  to  Edinburgh,  any  thiug  to    the 

account;  and  I  trust  I  shall  take  every  atom 

of  it  back  to  my  shades,  the  coverli  of  my 

xl  early  years. 

u  Dr,  Blacklock,  whom  1  see  very  often, 

lave  found  what  I  ivould  liave  eipccted 

)iu  friend,  a  clear  head  and  an  eicelleut 


TO  JAJIKS  DALRYJIPJ.E,  Esa. 


his  purposes  on  you  aU  at  onre,  in  midiiug 
you  a  poet,  I  broke  open  the  letter  you 
sent  me— hummed  over  the  rhymes— aud  ai 
■  ■  to  myselS 


grateful  respect,  "  I  gapit  wide,  hut  naethlng 

lids  of  Job,  of  alHiction-be^nng  memory, 
in  they  aat  down  with  hhn  seien  daya 

seven  nights,  and  spake  not  a  word. 

am  naturally  of  a  superstiduns  cast,  and 
soon  as  my  wonder-scared  imagination 

^tioua,  I  cast  about  what  tills  miuila  ot 
r3  might  portend.  My  foreboding  ideas 
the  aide  stretch  of  possibility;  aud 
.ral  erenta,  ^reat  in  their  magnitude,  and 
_...,.  ortant  in  their  conacquencss,  occurred  to 
my  fiincy.  The  downftiU  of  the  conclave,  ot 
"--  rushing  of  the  Cork  ramps— a  ducal 
;t  to  Lord  George  Gordon,  and  the 
<tant  interest- or  St.  Peter's  keys  t« 


'    The  noble  Earl  of  Qleiu»ira  took 


Ho,t,db,  Google 


COREESPOSOEKCE  OF  BURKS. 


idf  in  my  con 

like 

th»l  benevolen 

t  b*iD-  whose  imaze  h 

richly  beats.     He  is  a'stroi^er  proof  of 

the  aoul  thau  »ny  that 

phi- 

losophy  ever 

toducpd.    A  mind   like 

hi) 

ran  never  die. 

Let  the  worshipful  eq 

uire 

B.L.,orthflP 

vweod  Must.  J,  M.  po 

their  primitiTe 

nolhii^.     Atl>eat,tliey 

but  ill-difc-oited 

lumps  of  chaos,  only  on 

them    Btrong'y    ^'•'•R^    «'i">    bitiimir 

paiticle.  »nd% 

Iphureoua  effln™.    But 

my 

Dobla  patron, 

temal  as  Elie  heroic  swe 

magnanimity. 

of 

benevolQoee,  shnll  Inok  on  with  princely 

of  elements,  the    wreck 

mattec,  and  tli 

crash  of  worlds,"      R.  3. 

Jou  have  done  me,  in  your  kmd  notice  of  me, 
anuary  a^rd.  Not  many  niontha  ego  I 
knew  wo  other  employment  than  following 
tlie  plough,  nor  could  hoaat  any  thm^  liigher 
than  a  diatant  acquaintance  with  a  country 
clergymgn.  Mere  (rreatneas  never  em- 
harasses  me ;  I  have  nolhiog  to  ask  from  the 
ereat,  and  I  do  not  fear  their  jndgniant; 
but  genins,  polished  by  leaniinj,  and  at  its 
proper  point  of  elevatiou  iu  the  eye  of  the 
world,  thia  of  late  1  frequently  meet  with, 
approach. 


over  aelf- 


and  tremlile 
affectation  of 

deny ;  hut  I  see  with  ti^iient  wringinga  of 
heart,  that  the  novelty  of  my  character,  and 
the  honest  national  pr^adicc  of  my  connCry- 
a  height  altogether 


enable  to 


n  myui 


Tor  I' 
me,  please,  Sir,  r 

once  chon^lit  of  paying  her  in  kind,  but  have 
hitherto  quitted  tlia  idea  in  hopeless  dea- 
pondeney.  !  had  never  before  heard  of 
her ;  but  the  other  day  1  got  her  poems, 
whieh,  for  several  reasons,  some  belonging  to 
the  head,  and  others  the  offspring  of  the 
heart,  give  ma  a  ^reat  deal  of  pleasure.  I 
have  little  pretensiona  to  critic  lore;  there 
are,  I  think,  two  characteristic  Ifeaturea  in 
her  poetry — the  unfettered  wild  flight  of 
native  genius,  and  the  querulous,  aomhre 

I  only  know  what  pleases  me,  often  nith- 


TO  JOHN  BAIJANTINE.  Eaa. 
EdMirgh,  Feb.  B4, 1787. 
Mv  HoNOuttED  Fkiekd. — I  will  soon 


imes;  so  if  any  of  my  Ayr  friends  liave 
ibseription  bills,  they  must  be  sent  into 
rcecli  directly.  I  am  getting  my  phiz  done 
f  an  eminent  engraver,  and  if  it  can  be 
!ady  in  tunc,  I  will  appear  in  my  hook, 
lokiug,  hko  all  other  fools,  to  my  title-paga. 
R.  B. 


TO  MR.  WIIJJAM  DUNBAK.  (IS.) 
laum  Markel,  iTosday  llondnff,  1787. 
Dear  Sib. — In  justice  to  Spensia,  I  must 
acknowledge  that  there  is  scarcely  a  poet  in 
the  language  could  iiave  been  a  mote  agree- 
able  present  to  me  t  and  in  justice  to  you. 
allow  ma  to  say,  Kr,  that  1  have  not  met 
with  a  man  in  Edinburgh  to  whom  I  would 
so  willingly  have  been  indehMd  for  the  gift. 


'olomes  of  Spenser 
fbr  which  1  am  so  mnch  indebted  Ut  your 
ly  perhaps  be  not  in  proportion 
ler ;  but  be  that  as  it  may,  my 
gift,  though  far  less  valuable,  is  as  sincere  a 

Tbe  time  is  approaclu'ug  when  I  shall  re. 
urn  to  my  shade) ;  and  1  am  afraid  my 
lumerans  Edinburgh  friendships  are  of  so 
ender  a  constmctioiL  tluit  they  will  not 
Yoiua  is  one  of  the 

ibable  that 


ititution. 


sublun: 


nary  sphere ;    bnt  X 

1  strong  fimey  thai  in  some  fatnn 

""  -'---'  ^'b  comet  of  happier  sys- 

which  astronomy  is  yet 

d  I,  among  tlie  lieruin. 


a  hearty  shake  of  a  I 

laugh,  shall  recognis 

msre  wit  may  s[ 

That  pleasure,  bjs 

Eejcice  tor  endl 

I  have  the  honou 

eat  sincerity,  dear  Si 


Ho,t,db,  Google 


TO  THE  EARL  OF  GLENCAIBN. 
EdinbuTjA,  FtbiM'T/,  1J87. 

Mv  I/iitD, — I  wanted  to  purchase  a  pi 
file  of  your  lordship,  which  I  uas  told  iraa 
be  ffot  in  town ;  but  T  am  truly  sorry  to  b 
that  a  hhmdermg  painter   has    ejioiled    a 
"  human  ftee  diTine."    The  euclosed  atauias 
I  intended  to  have  written  heiow  a 
profile  or  your  lordaliip,  could  I ) 
»  hsnpy  as  to  procure  one  with  any  thing 

As  I  nill  soon  return  to  my  slifldes.  I 
wanted  to  have  sometlung  like  a  material 
o^cct  for  my  gratitude ;  I  wanted  to  have  it 
in  my  power  to  Bay  to  a  ftieud,  there  ia  my 
noble  patron,  ni;  generoua  benefactor.  Al- 
low me,  my  lord,  to  pi^lish  theK  veraea.  I 
conjure  your  lordsbip,  by  the  honest  throe 
of  grBtitude,  by  the  generous  vrisli  of  bene- 
Tolence,  by  all  the  powers  and  feoLinga  which 

deny  me  this  petition.  I  owe  much  to  your 
lordaliip ;  aniC  what  has  not  in  some  other 
instances  always  been  the  case  with  me,  the 
weight  of  the  obligation  is  a  pleasing  load 
¥  * — .  r  I. — ^  -"-'--^-sindeprnde"' 


of  a 

gume 

t,  amplifimt 

n.  erudition. 

aaB 

yes  says,  alt  that. 

I  thought  of 
y  soul fcould 

ndtho 

.ghto 

fit.«,dbjm 

and. 

estv 

u  should  mistake  the  cause 

y  aileiice,  I 

ust  Bit  down 

n  tell  you  BO. 

tffive 

If  credit,  tho 

igh,  that  the 

glho 

your 

logic  scares  D 

«:  the  truth 

0  meet  you  o 

that  Kround 

.     Yo 

sliomimeonethine'wllioh 

to  be  demon 

Btrated:  that 

strong  pride 

ptarity,  may  mislead  the  best  of  hearts.  I 
likewise,  since  you  aud  I  were  firat  ac- 
quainted, ui  the  pride  of  despising  old 
women's  stories,  TcntBred  m  tho  "daring 
path  Spinow  trod ;"  but  eiperieiice  of  the 
ireakneaB,  not  the  strength  of  hnnuu  powers 
made  me  glad  to  grasp  at  reveled  reUgioo. 

I  am  Btillin  the  Apostle  Faul'a  phrase, 
"The  old  man  with  his  deeds,"  as  when  wa 
were  sportiiig  about  the  "  lady  Tliorn."  I 
shall  be  four  weeks  here  yet  at  least,  and  so 
'  ■■-" ■  -  ^    -  ' 'elcomo 


enty,  youH 


I  a: 


li.  B. 


lordship's,  than  \i 


say  nothing 
t  be  beholden  to 
nirs   that  would    crud^    my    ft^luiga. 
IF  digniHed  character  in  life,  and  manner 
uji^orting  that  chaiecler,  are  llatterui 


TO- 


pnde;  a 


would  be  jealous  of  tl 


purity  of  my  grateful  a 

was  under  the  patronage  of  one  of  the  mocb- 

Ahnost  every  poet  faaa  celabraled  hia 
patrons,  particularly  when  they  tfe»  names 
dear  to  Aime,  and  illuatrious  iu  their  coun- 
try ;  allow  me,  then,  ray  lord,  if  you  think 
the  verses  have  intrinsic  merit,  to  tell  the 
world  how  much  I  have  the  honour  to  be, 
your  lordship's  highly  indehtal,  and  ever 
grateful  humble  seriaut,  R.  B. 


TO  MH,  JAJILS  CANDUSH, 
Edinburgh,  March  21st,  1737. 

Mv  EVKB  DeAK  OlB   AcaUAINTANCE. 

— I  was  equally  surprised  and  pleased  at 
your  letter,  though  I  dare  say  you  will 
think,  by  my  delaying  so  loni;  to  write  to 
you,  that  I  am  bo  drowned  in  the  mtoxica- 
tion  of  good  fortune  aa  to  be  indifferent  to 


Edinbatsi,  March,  1787. 
Mv  Dear  Sir.— You  may  think,  and 
too  justly,  tliat  I  am  a  selfish,  ungrate- 
ful fellow,  haring  received  bo  many  repeated 
instances  of  kindness  from  you,  and  yet 
aever  pntliug  pen  to  paper  to  say  "  thant 

my  conscience  has  led  me  on  that  accotint, 
your  good  heart  wonld  think  yaarself  toe 
much  avenged.  By  the  bye,  there  is  nothing 
in  the  whde  frame  of  man  vrhkh  seeois  to 
be  90  unaccountable  aa  that  thing  c^led 
consuence.  Had  the  troublesome,  yelping 
cur  powers  suffloent  to  prevent  a  misdiief, 
he  might  be  of  use  i  but  at  the  be^ning 
of  the  buainess,  his  feeble  eSbrts  arc  to  the 
workings  of  paseion  as  the  infmt  frost)  of 
an  autumnal    morning    to   the  unclouded 

the  tumultuous  doings  of  the  wicked  deed 
over,  than,  amidst  the  bitter  native  con- 
sequences of  folly  UI  the  very  vortei  of  our 


Hosted  by  Google 


COEaESPONDE^ICS  OP  BURNS. 

:ni3  to  erect  a  headat 
e  eoid  Eobett  Fergu* 


e  here,  nor  pnmpoua  la] 


TO  THE  ES.RL   OF  BUCHAN. 
Mv  LOKD.— Tl.e  honour  yonr  lordaM 
las  done  me,  by  your  notiee  and  ndvice  i 


nory  of  Robert  Tergusi 


dn  the  kirk  of  CanoTtfjate, 

the  (luerifj^BECond  day  of  Vehraary,  one 

thoutatid  aenen  hundred  eiifJily-seseTi  years^ 

Sederunt  of  the  Managers  of  the  Kict  and 

Kirk-yard  funds  of  Caiiongale, 

^VMch  day,  the  treaaurer  to  the  aaidfrnids 

produced  a  letlCT  from  Mr^  Robert  Buma,  of 

date  the  6tU  current,  which  was  read  god 

appointed  to  be  engroased  in  tlieir  BedemnC 

book,  and  of  which  letter  the  tenor  Ibllowa  :— 


PtMse  from  thy  lipe  'tia  muie  with  joy  to 

boast, 
They  best  cui  ^ve  it  who  deserve  it  most. 
Yonr  lordabip  touches  the  darlins:  chord 
mase  at  Scottish  stoiy  and  Scot^ih  scenca. 


0  make  a 


"To  the  honourable  bsiliei  of 
'Ediuhnrgh. — Gentlemen,  I  am 
told  that  the  renudns  of  Robert  Fergu! 
the  BO  justly  celebrated  poet,  a  man  w 


leisurely  pilgrimage  through  niy  n( 
try  1  to  tic  and  mnse  on  those  once  hiird- 
eonlended  fields,  where  Caledonia,  rejoicing, 
aaw  her  bloody  lion  borne  through  broken 
ranks  to  victory  and  finnc ;  and  catchiug  the 
inspiration,  to  pour  the  deathless  names  in 
sou;;.    But,  my  lord,  in  the  midst  of  these 

motal-looUng  phantom  strides    across  my 

l?"'^^        "I,  Wisdom,  dnen  with  Prudence.   Friend, 

of  your  folliet  and  misfbrtiuies,  merely  to 
~ive  you  paiu :  1  wish  through  these  n'ounds 
)  imprint  a  lastiu^^  leason  on  yonr  heart, 
will  not  menUon  how  many  of  my  salutary 
Ivices  you  have  despised ;  I  have  given  yon 
neupon  line  andpreceptnponprecept;  and 
while  1  was  chalking  ont  to  yon  the  straight 
way  to  wealth  and  cliaracter,  with  audndoua 
eEFronlery  yon  have  ilgaigged  accosa  the 
■   nning  me  to  my  face !  yon  know 


Us  deathless  f 
gentlemen,  yi 


lu  then,  gentlemen,  to  pennit 
imple  atone  over  iiis  revered 
in  an  unalienable  property  to 


ce  home  waa  so  hot  fb 


It  yon 


in  your  powe 
hring  you  on 


B[  and  liberty  to  the  aaid  Robert 


;o  the  brink  of  ruio? 

ep   from  the  veriest 
is  half  a  step  from  it 


Ho,t,db,  Google 


Hall  that  I 


TO  1 


■ge  be  ineflectnBl,  let  her 
0  you  in  vain,  let  the  call 
of  pride  prevail  with  yon.    You  kHOw  how 

■ion :  yon  knnw  bow  ynu  bfti  the  ^ling 
inecr  of  contumEKoua  greatr —      '■--■■  — 


It  the  I 


independence    and  diameter,    on  the  one 
hand;  i  tender  yon  senility,  dependCTVce, 

insnlt  your  understanding  by  bidding  you 

This,  iny  lord,  is  nntmtwecable,    I  miut 
retnra  to  my  humble  alt  ' 


t  the 


p1on);h-liul.  Still,  my  lord,  while  the  drop! 
of  li&  warm  my  heart,  gratitude  to  that 
dear-loved  country  ill  which  I  boiun  my  birth, 
and  fnatitude  to  thcie  lier  distinguiiiied 
■ouj  aho  have  honoured  ma  so  much  with 
their  patruna;^  and  approbation,  shall,  while 
atealing  through  my  humble  shadei,  ever 
diitend  my  bosom,  and  at  limea,  as  now, 
draw  forth  the  aiieUing  tear.  K.  B, 


TO    MRS.    DUNLOF, 
£JijiliijS,  ,1fnro7i  2tod,  1787. 


tiDguished,  pa- 
troniseil,  iwrrimded  by  you.  Your  frieudly 
advices,  I  will  not  give  them  the  cold  name 
of  criljr^sms,  I  receive  with  reverence.  I 
have  niiule  some  stnall  alteraiioni  in  vbat  I 
before  had  printed.  I  have  the  advice  of 
lome  very  jaLtieions  friend  among  the  literati 


his  hints,  with  respect  to  impropriety 
indeBcBcy,  I  follow  iinplially. 

You  kindly  interest  yourself  in  my  futi 
views  and  urosiiects ;  there  1  can  give  ) 


Was  roll'd  toj^thcr,  or  had  tried  hie  beams 
Athwart  the  gloum  [irofound. 

The  appellation  of  a  Scottish  hard  ia  by 

it  ia  my  most  esalted  ambition.    Scottish 
eceues  and  Scottish  story  are  the  tbemes  I 


DUNLOP.  2SJ 

eoald  wish  to  sing,  I  have  no  dearer  dm 
than  to  have  it  in  my  power,  uupljgued  with 

knows,  1  am  unlit  enou!;h,  to  make'lnsurely 
pilgrimages  through  Caledonia;  to  sic  on 
the  fieliu  of  her  battles,  to  wander  on  tha 
romantic  baidLS  of  her  rivers,  and  to  mnse 
by  the  stately  towers  or  venerable  ruins, 
once  the  honoured  abodes  of  her  lieroes. 

But  these  are  all  II tupian*  thoughts ;  I 
have  dallied  long  enough  with  life  ■  'lis  time 

mother  to  care  for,  ani^  sou  Da  m 

ties  perhaps   equally  tende  ha 

individiul  only  suflbrs  by  tl  co  aeq  ences 

of  his  own  thonghtlessnes  m         ce    or 

toll)',  he  may  be  escus^le —  g 

abilities,  and  some  of  the  rt  es 

may  half  suietiiy  a  heedless  mrac 


three  hundred  pounds  by  my 
wiih  that  sum  1  iuicnil,  so  be 
said  to  have  any  intention,  to  i 
old  acquaintance,  the  plough,  i 


EDiuetimes  have  been  my  only  eiyoyment. 
It  my  ^eti«  second  my  reaolntion,  1  shall 

of  life ;  but  while  following  my  plough,  or 
building  up  my  shocks,  I  shall  cast  a  leisnce 
glance  to  that  dear,  that  only  feature  of  mj 
character,  which  gate  me  the  notice  o(  my 
country,  and  the  patroo^e  of  a  Wallace. 

Tims,  honoured  Madam,  I  have  given  yon 
Hie  bard,  his  situation,  and  his  views,  native 


TO    MRS.    DUNLOP. 

Ediaburffh,  April  151J,  1787. 
MAniM. — 1 
gnutilude  nhicl 


I    affectation    of 


Jobnsi 


i'or  my  pari;  Madam  I 
it  I  have  too  much  pnde  for  servility, 
too  hllJe  prudence  for  aelHahneas.    I 


Google 


a8»  cohrespoxdexce  op  burns. 

liBVe  this  moment  broker  opeu  yout  letter. 


And  tlierpft 

In  ipeakiiig  for  myaelf— 

■0  1  Btaoll  not  trouble  ;oii  « 

speecbcs  and  hunted  figures. 

ijy  my  lioiid  oil  my  lieart  stid  i 

sMI  ever  liaye  tlie  tnieai,  tlie  \ 

Ml,  i 


Wednesday.     Yuu 


rs  I  sha 
™y,lT 
.r  Dr, 

er  Cochrane  iu  ll 
9|  was  jiiat  gon 


TO    DK,    MOORK 
EtlMiirgh,  April,  'iSril  1TS7. 
;ivi;[)  ilie  books,  and  seiit  the  one 
lioned  tu  J[ts,  Doiilop.    I  am  ill 

nierapliura  of  gratilade.    I  tfiank 


Bupreme  graiihcaUoii. 

1  leave  Edjnbni^li  in  the  a 
Aaya  or  a  fortnigUt,  aud,  after  a 
B^3  over  unae  of  the  Oan  i 
Caledouia,     Cowdea    Kno  e» 
Yarrow,  Tweed,  &c,  I  ahull  re 
nual  9hade^  iu  all  like)  hood 
quit  them.    I  have  formed  n 
and  frieodsliipa  here,  but  I  a 
are  ail  of  too  tcuder  a  co  str 
carriage  a  hundred  and  fitty  n  I 


TO    MRS.  DUNLOP 

EdminTffh,  April  30ih,  1787. 
—Youtt  criticisms,  Madsm,  I  uuder- 


theadvm- 
™er,  that  I 

rda,  elei^Vf 
3  t^entry  do 
hy  my  bardihip.  1  know  nhftt  I  may  expect 
from  the  world  hy  aud  bye— illlhet^  sbuse. 


0  flattered  tboae  who  piuscssei 
iEions  qualities  of  nenltli  and  [ 
m  determined  to  flaHer  no  a 


B  by  prin 


[unately  incnrted  yout  lojiil 
>pe  iu  four  wecki,  or  leas,  to 
'  of  ii[>[>eu[ing,  at  Dunlop,  in 
jrsou.  B,  U. 


before  knuirn  ftir  70U 


taiigeut  (light  of 
e  returned  to  my 
a  my  old  circle,  1 


I  left  Edinburgh  with  the  idea  < 
iiig  aoiueirhere  about  my  heart. 
Keep  llie  origioal  of  tliia  song 
again,  whenever  that  may  he. 


Ho,t,db,  Google 


TO  MR.  PATISON. 


TO  THE  REV.  OR.   HUGH  BLAIR, 
jrny  Zrd,  1787. 

ErT.    and     MUOH-BEaPECIED    8IB. — I 

Ie»Te  Bdmhiii^  to-morrow  morning-,  bnt 
could  not  go  without  troubling  you  with 
half  a  line,  sincerely  to  thauk  you  for  the 
kiodneas,  patranase  and  friendsbip  you 
haye  aliairn  me.  I  often  felE  the  emhami99- 
ment  of  my  singular  rituation ;  drawn  forth 
from  the  veriest  shades  of  life  to  the  glare 


ired  by  tl 


works,  while  tliey  aie  applauded  to  the  end 
of  time,  Bill  eier  instruct  and  mend  the 
heart.  However  the  meteoi-Uke  novelty  of 
my  appearance  m  tlm  world  might  attmet 
notiee,  and  honour  me  with  the  acquamtance 
of  the  pcrmoneut  lights  of  genius  and  Utera^ 
ture,  those  who  are  tmly  heuE&cton  of  the 
faniuortal  nature  of  man,  I  kuew  very  well 
that  my  utmost  ment  aas  lar  imeqnal  to  the 


Ik  of  pr 


will  not  surprise  me  in  my  quarters. 

I  Imve  sent  you  8  proof  iiiiprcssi 
Beugo's  work  (;'3]  for  me,  done  on 


SMirt,  Mny  \3th,  1787. 
Mt  Honoured  Pbiend.— The  enclosed 
]  have  just  wrote  (25),  nearly  extempore,  in 
a  solitary  inn  ia  Selkirk,  after  a  miserably 
wet  day's  riding.  I  have  been  over  most  of 
Blast  lutliiau,  Berwick,  Roihurjth,  and 
Selkirk  shires,  and  neit  week  I  begui  a  tour 
through  tlie  north  of  Englaud,  Yesterday 
I  dined  with  l.idy  Harriet,  sUtet  to  my 
noble  patron  (;jej,  Quent  Beai  eoaaerctll 
1  wouJd  write  tdl  I  irauld  tire  you  as  roueh 

you  are   with  wretrfied  verse;    but  I  am 
laded  to  de;iLh ;  so,  ivith  a  grateful  farewell, 

sincerely,  '  B.  B. 


TO  MR.  JAMES  CANDUSH. 

Edhbi,ri,k,  1787, 
Mr  Dear  Friend. — If  once  I  were 
gone  from  this  scene  of  linrpy  and  dissipation, 
I  promise  myself  the  pleasure  of  that  corres- 
pondence being  renewed  wliieh  has  been  so 
long  broken.  At  present  I  hare  time  for 
nothing.  Dissipation  and  business  engross 
every  moment.  I  am  engaged  in  assisting 
an  honest  Scotch  enthusiast  (37),  a  Iriend  ^ 


our  songs  set  to  music,  of  whicli 
and  music  are  (lone  hy  Scotsmen.  This,  you 
will  easily  g:ness,  is  an  imdercakiug  e.iiactly 
bo  my  last«.  I  hare  collected,  begged,  bor- 
rowed, and  stnleu,  all  the  souths  1  could 
meet  with.  Pompey's  tihost,  words  and 
musi^  I  beg  ftom  you  immediately,  to  go 
into  his  second  number^-the  first  is  siready 
[itihlishcd.  I  shall  stiDW  you  the  first  num- 
Glaagoic,  which  wi" 


rtnight  m 


l)o  iH 


o  kind  as 


Direct   to  me  at  Mr.  W.  Orniksliank'si 
St.  James's  Square,  New  Town,  Ediuburgh. 
E.  B. 


Bei-rj 


:r  JJ™ 


Mcy  17(/,,  1787. 
Dear  Sir, — T  am  sorry  I  was  out  of 
Edinburgh,  making  a  alight  pilgrimage  to 
tlie  cUssic  scenes  of  this  country,  when  I 
was  favoured  with  yours  of  the  11th  instant, 
enclosing  an  order  of  the  Paisley  Banking 
Company  on  the  Royal  Bask,  fur  twenty-twu 
rounds  seven  shillings  sterhng,  payment  in 
full,  after  carriage  deducted,  fur  nmaty  copies 
of  my  book  I  sent  you.  According  to  your 
motions,  I  see  you  wUl  have  left  Scotland 
before  this  leacliea  you,  otherwise  1  would 
send  you  "  Holy  WilUo"  with  all  my  heart 
1  was  so  hurried  tliot  I  absolutely  forgot 
several  things  J  ought  to  have  minded: — 
' ',  sending  books  to  Mr.  Cowan  J 


among  the  re 


hop.  Jon 


tl  picas. 


Hosted  by  Google 


nejlecced  ir 


CORUESPONDENCE   OF  BUESS. 

thonij   and  aa  svcet 


he  printal  list,  which  is  very 
aopplied  at  the  aubicriptiou 
not  Bt  Glaagow,  nor  do  I 
[0  London ;  aud  I  think  Mts. 


•ilicn  down  here,  after  seven  and  tarty  niilea 
ridm',  e'en  aa  forjii^ket  and  turaiaw'd  as  a 
forfiiu^htei]  cock,  to  )[ie  yun  some  riotioii  & 
my  laiid-lowper-Uke  sirai'afjuin  sin'  ii:e  sor- 
roitfii'  hoiit  that  1  sheuk  hands  and  patted 
in'  Anld  Heekie. 

My  aulil,  la'd  nloyde  o'  a  meere  has  hiich- 
y^'d  up  hjll  and  donu  brae,  in  Scotlaiid 
and  England,  aa  teugh  and  bimie  as  a  very 
devil  wi'  me.  It's  tme  she's  as  poor's  a 
BUignisker  and  aa  liard'i  a  kirk,  and  tipper- 
taipers  when  ehe  taks  the  |[ate,  first  hke  a 
bdy'a  gentle-vomau  in  a  muiiiwae,  or  a  han 
a  het  girdle ;  hut  she's  a  yauld,  poutlierie 
h  like 


I-  that, 


Willie  Stalker's  meere,  that 
geested  turabler-wheeh— f"r  she'll  whip  me 
aff  her  five  stimparta  o'  the  best  aits  at  a 
down-sittiR,  and  ne'er  fiish  her  tbuiiib. 
When  ance  her  riughanea  and  spavies,  her 
cmcks  and  cramps,  are  fairly  aouprd,  she 

the  t^hteat.  1  could  wager  liec  price  to  a 
thretlie  pennieB,  that  for  twa  or  three  wooks 
ridin'  at  fifty  mile  a-day,  the  deil-sticket  a  five 
gallopers  acqueesh  Clyde  and  Whithorn 
eonld  cast  rant  on  her  twl.  (29) 

I  hae  dander'd  owre  a'  the  kintra  frao 
Dumhar  to  eekraig,  and  hae  (in^alher'd  wi' 
mony  a  guid  Mow,  and  mouy  a  ueelAr'd 
hiisie.  I  taet  wi'  twa  dijik,  quhiea  ia  par- 
ticular, ane  o'  them  a  sonsie,  fine,  fod^l  lass 
— baith,  btaw  and  hoiinie ;  the  tither  was  a 
clean-shankit,  straught,  tight,  weel-far'd 
winch,  as  hiythe'a  a  lintwhite  on  s  llowerie 


were  baith  bred  to  maiiie 


I  and  I  baith  ken.    They 
dej  0*  a   shaue,  that  I 


le  like  th 


kail-whittle  in 

I  was  frann  to  write  you  a  lang  pystle,  but 
Ood  fbrgie  me,  I  gaC  mysel  aae  noutauii- 
ously  hilriiilj'd  the  day,  after  kail-tune,  that 
1  can  hardly  Btoiter  hot  and  ban. 

Jly  best  respecks  to  the  giiidwire  and  i^ 
our  common  friens,  eapeeially  Mr  and  iirs, 

I'll  be  In  Dumfries  the  morn  git  the  lieast 
be  to  tlie  fore,  and  the  hraidis  hide  hale. 
Quid  be  wi' you,  Willie!     Amen  1    R  B. 


TO  W1HIA.M  NICOL,  Esq. 

AiKhlerlyre  (30j,  June,  1787. 
Mv  Dear  Siit. — I  find  myself  very  com- 
fortable here,  neither  oppressed  by  ceremony, 
nor  mortilicd  by  neglect.    Lady  Augusta  ii 
'    - woman,  and  very  happy  in 


:r  family,  which  In 
ooraiugs  Ti 


le  oonnCry,  aud  am  so  delighte 


t  Mr, 


I  leave  tMa  place  on  Weduesdny  or  Tlmraday, 

Make  my  kind  compliments  to  Mr.  aud 

Mrs,  Cniikshank  end  Mrs.  Nicol,  if  ahe  is 

returned.     I  am  ever,  dear  Sic,  your  deeply 


TO   MH,  W,  NICOL, 

MaMhlme,  June  13.  IISI. 
Mt  Deah  Pbiend. — I  ara  now  arrived 
safe  in  my  native  country,  after  a  very  agree- 
ahla  jaunt,  and  have  the  pleasure  to  find  all 
my  friend)  well.  1  brcakhuied  wibli  yoni 
grey-headed,  reverend  friend,  Air,  Smith ; 
and  was  hii;h1y  pleased  both  with  the  cordial 
he  gave  me,  aud  his  moat  ejcelleut 


ippeara 


r.  Miller 


.  Dalswin. 


Ho,t,db,  Google 


TO  MK.  JOKX  RICHMOND. 


uJshtp,  my  hop^s 
T  mended;  bul  el 


id  hisreccntjc 
I  that  busmc 
L  tliey  ere  but 


Mr.Buri 

ber ;  mid  liia  nife — guid  Forgie  me  1 


I  nerer,  my  friend,  thonght  mankind  yery 
rapsble  of  anytlun|(  generous;  but  the   --- 
lineu  of  the  patridaus  in  Edinburg) 
^e  dvilitj  of  my  plebeian  bretl^reu 
perlmpa  furmerly  eyed  me  BsIkBuce)  b 
returned  home,  iiave  nearly  put  me  oot  of 
concrat  «ltogelher  with  my  spvdea.    1 
buught  ■  pocket  Stilton,  nbieh  I  carry 
petuajly  about  v'ttii  me,  in  order  to  > 
the  sentiments,  tiie  dsunLlest  msjcnanii 
the  intrepid,  unyielding  independence^ 
deaperate  daring,  and  noble  liefisnce  of  hard- 
Bhip  in  that  great  personn^,  8atan,    lis 
true,  I  hare  just  now  ft  little  cash ;  but  T  am 
afraid  the  scar  that  hitlterto  lias  shed  its 
malignajit,  purpose.lilaatiog  rays  full  in  my 

its  indnences  to  the  ibymiug  tribe,—!  mucb 
dread  it  is  not  yet  beneath  my  horiion. 
Misfbrtune  dodges  the  path  of  human  life ; 
the  poetic  mind  Huds  itself  miserably  de- 
ranged in,  and  nnfit  for  tlie  Hulka  of  busi- 
nees ;  add  to  all,  tliat  tliouglilless  fbtlies  and 
liair-hrained  whims,  like  ao  many  ^se)  falsi 
eternally  diverging  from  the  right  luie  of 
sober  discretion,  sparkle  nith  st^benilching 
hiaae  in  the  idly-gazing  eyes  of  tlie  poor 
heedless  hard,  till  pop,  "  he  fells  like  luciter. 
never  to  hope  again."  God  grant  that  this 
may  bean  unreal  picturenitb  respect  to  me! 
hut  should  it  not,  I  have  very  little  depend- 

this  tribute  my  heart  bids  me  pay  you — 

Tthieh  I  have,  or  think  I  have  in  life,  1  have 
felt  along  the  lines,  and  damn  them,  they  are 

that  I  am  sure  they  vould  not  stand  the 
breath  of  the  least  adverse  breese  of  fortune; 
bnt  from  yon,  my  ever  dear  Sir,  I  loot  with 
~  T  the  apostolic  love  that  shall 
le  "  through  good  report  and  bad 
-the  love  which  Solomon  empbati- 
9  "  is  strong  as  death,"    My  com- 


pliments to  Mrs.  Nicol,  and  all  tl 


TO  1VILLIA.SI   CBUIKSHANK.  (; 


A^klerlyn,  Jane,  1787. 


ut  that  I  feel  ra 


^  :a  make  me  easy  but  not  to 
embarrass  me.  I  was  storm-ataid  two  days 
at  the  foot  of  the  Ochill  Hills,  with  Mr.  Tiiit 
of  Herveysloii  and  Mr.  Jolraalon  of  Alva, 
but  was  so  well  pleased  that  I  shall  certainly 
spend  a  day  on  the  banks  of  the  Devon  as  I 
returu.  I  leave  this  place  I  aupposc  on 
Wednesday,  and  sliaU  devote  a  day  to  Mr. 
Hamsay,  at  Auchlwtyre,  near  Stirling — a 
man  to  ohoia  worth  I  caimot  do  justice 
My  respectM  kind  complimenU  to  Mrs. 
my  dear  little  Jeanie,  mid 


uikshuiik,  a 


le  Mr.  Maai 


TO  MR.  JUIU'-J  ftiCHMOND. 

jlfB«jicI,Ja(y7ii,1737. 
Mi  Dear  Richuond. — I    am  all  im- 
bas  turned 


)f  plate,  by  1 


9  journey  to 


indictment  at  the  bur  of  the  other  irorli 

He  will  find  the  practice  of  the  conrt  to 

difTerent  from  the  practice  in  which  he  has 

for  so  many  years  been  thoroughly  hack'. 

■     hat  his  trienda,  it  be  had  any  con-. 

truly  of  that  kind,  which  I  rathcT 

doubt,  may  well  tremble  for  hia  sake.    Hii 

' '     le,  his  left-banded  wisdom,  wbich  stoodi 

mly  by  him,  to  such  good  parpoe^. 

like  other  accomplices  in  robbery  and 

[er,  will,  now  the  piratical  business  is 

1,  in  aU  probability  turn  king's  en- 

ucucee,  and  then  the  devil's  bagpiper  will. 

toudi  him  off  "  Bundle  and  go," 

left  you    any  legacy,    T   b^ 

I  s^  about. 


all  this; 


re  btely  been  rambling  ov 


Ho,t,db,  Google 


COREESPOXDEXCE  OF  BUENS. 


larton  mi  IjiTeraty,  and  mnuinf;  a  dniuken 
race  on  the  side  of  Loch  lAmond  with  a 
«i!d  Highlandman ;  his  hotse,  which  hsd 
never  known  the  ornaments  of  iron  or 
leatlier,  ligiagged  across  before  my  old 
ipavin'd  hunter,  whose  name  is  Jenny 
Geddes,  and  down  came  tlie  Highlandman. 
horse  uid  all,  and  down  came  Jeiniy  and 
my  ladyship  ;  so  I  have  Rnt  such  a  skinful 

least  four  weeks  before  1  dare  venture  on  my 
journey  to  Edinburch. 

Not  one  new  thiii^  under  the  sun  has 
happened  in  Jfaucldiue  since  you  left  it.  E 
hope   this    will    fiiul    you    as  comfortably 

more  so ;  but,  at  all  events,  I  trust  you  will 

■with  you,  well  or  ill.  "Tis  but  poor  con- 
Bolstion  lo  tell  the  world  when  matters  go 
wrong ,   bnt  you  know  very  well  your  con- 


r  AISSLIE,  ZsQ. 

Mv  DiiMi  SiB.— My  life,  since  I  saw  yon 
last,  has  been  one  continued  hurry ;  that 
savage  hospitality  which  knocks  a  man  down 
vith  strong  liquors,  is  the  devil.  I  have  a 
sore  warfare  in  this  worhl ;  the  devil,  the 
woi^d,  and  the  flesh,  are  three  Ibrmidabie 
foes.  The  flrat  I  generally  try  to  By  from; 
the  second,  aks  I  generally  Hies  from  me ; 
but  the  third  is  my  plague,  Horse  than  the 
ten  plagnea  of  Egypt. 

I  have  been  looking  over  several  &rms  in 
this  coimtty;  one  m  piu'tieular,  in  Niths- 
dale,  pleaaed  me  so  well,  that,  if  my  offer  to 
the  proprietor  is  accepted,  I  shall  commence 
fiurmer  at  Whitsunday.  If  (arming  do  not 
ippear  eligible,  t  shall  have  recourse  to  my 
■oSier  shift ;  bnt  this  lo  a  friaid. 

I  set  out  for  Edinburgh  on  Monday 
morning ;  how  long  I  stay  there  is  uncertain, 
but  you  will  know  so  soon  as  I  can  uitorm 
you  myself.  However  I  determine,  poesy 
must  be  laid  aside  for  some  time;  my  mini 

take  a  good  deal  of  effort  to  habituate  it  to 
the  routine  of  business.  I  am,  my  dear  Sir, 
youra  smeeralj,  E.  B. 


T  AINSLTB.  [33) 
MaucMiiie,  J«lg  23rd,  1787. 
Mv  Deab  AiNS lie.— There  is  one  tiling 
or  which  I  set  great  store  by  yon  as  a  friend, 
uid  it  is  this,  tlial  I  have  not  a  friend  upon 
iarth,  besides  yourself,  to  whom  I  can  talk 
lonsense  without  forfeiting  some  degree  ol 

levcr  cares  for  speaking  any  thing  else  hut 


Non 


r    plair 


that  I 

heart  to  have  met  with  such  a  fellow  ai 
you,  who,  though  you  are  not  just  such  a 
hopeless  fool  as  I,  yet  T  trust  you  will  never 
lislen  so  miu:h  to  the  temptations  of  the 
devil,  as  to  grow  so  very  wise  that  you  will 


n  thele 


When  a'  th 

days  a. 

edone. 

Write  nie  so. 

it  bnt  a 

few  lines 

i' 

t  to  tell   mc 

how  ( 

at  good. 

sagacious 

an,  your  fatbe 

t  kmd  da 

nty  body 

y 

ur    mother- 

hat    St 

iel    your 

b 

other  Doujila 

-and 

rliy  frien 
Bachel  o 

Rachel, 

n 

old,  as' 

Si 

e  was  before  her  blear-eyed  sis 

let   I,eali. 

RB. 

TO  MR  BOBEBT  MUIR. 

Stirling,  Angusl  2m,  1737. 
Mt  Dejik  Sir.— I  intended  to  hav« 
written  you  from  Edinburgh,  and  now 
write  you  from  Stirlmg  to  make  an  excuse. 
Here  am  I,  on  my  way  to  Inverness,  nith 
a  truly  original,  but  very  worthy  man,  a 
Mr.  Nicol,  one  of  the  masters  of  the  High, 
school  m  Edinburgh.- 1  leA:  Auld  Reekie 
yesterday  morning,  and  have  passed,  besides 

Falkirk,  and  here  am  I  undoubtedly.  This 
morning  I  knelt  at  the  tomb  of  Sir  John  the 
Graham,  the  gallant  friend  of  the  immortal 
Wallace  -.  and  two  hours  ago  I  said  a  fervent 


Ho,t,db,  Google 


TO  GAVnS  HASilLTOjr,  ESQ. 


291 


T  the  hole  in 


j)r»7er  fcr  old  Culeiloni 

fixed  his  royal  atandanl  on  the  hsrka  of 
Bannockhum;  Bod  just  now,  from  Siirting 
Cuatte,  I  have  seen  by  the  setiiiiK  sun  the 
glDrious  prospect  of  the  windings  of  Forth 
through  the  rich  carse  of  Stirling,  and 
itirtins  the  equally  rich  carse  of  Mltirk, 
The  crops  are  very  sttoiig,  but  so  very  late 
that  tliere  ia  no  harvest  e:{cept  a  t^-^  or 
two  perhaps  in  ten  miles,  all  the  way  1  liave 
tratelled  from  Edinburgh, 

I  lefc  Andrew  Bruce  (34)  and  hmWf  all 
trail.  I  «i11  be  at  least  three  vieeVs  in 
mikizig  my  tour,  as  I  shall  return  hy  the 
coast,  and  have  many  people  to  call  tor. 

My  heat  compliments  to  Charles,  our  dear 
Idnaman  and  MIow-snint;  audMeasn,  W, 
and  11.  Parker.  I  hope  Hnghoc  (35)  is 
going  on  ajtd  prospering  with  God  and  Uiaa 
M'Causlin. 

If  I  could  thinli  on  any  thing  sprightly,  T 
'      "  '  -         '  ''  -r  post;   bnt 


r-of-fact 


seldom 


1    (hif 


oliwitys  Fidge.    Teat 


and  after  spendiiy 
days  I  ever  bad 


After  break&st, 

uarkable  cascade  in  the 
Jifles  above  Hariieiton ; 
one  of  the  moat  pleatant 
It  mjr  life,  1  returned  to 
fsuTung  lu  uw  evradog.  They  are  a  family, 
Sir,  thoi^h  I  had  mjt  had  any  prior  tie— 
though  they  had  not  been  the  brother  and 

I  would  neier  forget  tlicm.  I  am  told  you 
have  not  aceu  theox  these  several  J'eara,  so 
yon  can  have  very  little  idea  of  what  these 
young  folks  are  now.    Yourbrothc 


wise ;  and  I  have  the  aatisfacbon  to  inform 
you  that  he  ts  getting  the  better  of  IhoiB 
consumptive  ayraptoma  which  I  suppose  yon 
know  were  threatening  lum.  His  make,  mi 
particularly  his  manner,  resemble  you,  hnt 
he  will  atill  have  a  finer  face.  (1  put  in  the 
word  itill,  to  please  Mrs.  Uamlltou.)  Good 
sense,  modesty,  and  at  the  same  tune  a  jurt 
iden  of  that  respect  that  man  owes  to  man, 
and  has  a  right  in  his  turn  to  e,\act,  ate 
atriting  features  in  his  character;  and.  what 
with  me  is  the  Alpha  and  Omega,  he  has  a 
heart  that  might  ailom  the  breast  of  a  poet  t 
Grace  has  a  good  Bgure,  and  tlie  look  of 
healtli  and  cheerfulness,  hut  nothing  else 
remarkable  in  her  peraon.    I  scarcely  ever 


irLttle  B 


:h  and  ch 


particularly.  She  is  reserved  at  first;  but 
as  we  urew  better  ajajnaiiited,  I  was  delighted 
with  the  native  frBiikneas  of  her  maoner,  and 
the  Btei^ing  sense  of  her  obBervation,  Ot 
Cimrlotte  1  cannot  apeak  in  common  terms 
of  admiration :  ilie  ia  not  only  bcautitiil  hut 
lovely.  Her  form  is  elegant;  her  features 
■       ■  lile  of 


in  the  higliest  degree ;  and  her 
now  that  she  has  happily  re- 
vouted  health,  ia  equal  to  Miai 

I,  Clnu'lotlB   was    eiactly  Dr. 


TO  GAVIN'   HAMILTON,  Esa. 
Stirtini,,  Augm  2Sth,  1787. 
MtDbak  8iH.— Heream  I  oa  my  way 

fertile  carsea  of  FuSikk  and  Srirhi 
am  dclighipd  with  their  appearance 


keiniierclieeka.andaodisli 


gooti  S 


yon  all  tl 


™unt,  my 


(he  realm  might  own  with  pride ;  theo  why 
do  you  not  keep  ap  more  correspondence 
with  these  so  ainiahle  young  folks  ?    I  had 

I  had  to  describe  the  little  ones  with  the 
minuieneas  of  anatomy.  They  weie  h%hly 
delighted  wlien  I  told  them  that  John  (37) 
ffSS  so  good  a  hoy,  and  ao  line  a  acholar,  and 
that  Willie  waa  goinjf  on  still  very  pretty : 

them  that  beauty  i«  *  poor,  ailly  hiiihla 
without  she  be  good.  Miss  Chalmers  1  had 
left  in  Ediubuigh,  but  I  had  tlie  pleasure  ot 
meethig   wiili    Mra.  Chalraera ;  only  Lady 


Mai^em 


rather  than  other-    i 


being  rather  a  little  al 
e  throat,  aometrhat  marred  o 


iiingly 


Hosted  by  Google 


292 

lahBH  n 


COERESPONDENCE  OF  ETTEKS. 


)t  be  in  Ayrshire  tor  four  sreeka 
iiiy  iDo»  respectful  eoinplimeQts  to  Mra 
MuniUtoii,  Misa  Keonedj,  mid  Dr.  Mscken 

BiBge  or  otlier.    I  sio  ever.  Sit,  jours  moai 
grmefully,  K.  B. 


TO  MR.  WA.LKER, 

Itwemess,  Seplemhrr  5!S,  1737. 
Mt   Beau  Sib. — I  ha™  jnat  time  to 
imCe  the  foregoins  (39),  and  to  tell  yon  that 

of  a  half-hour  I  spent  at  Bniac.  I  do  not 
mean  it  was  eitempote,  fur  I  have  endea- 
voured to  brush  it  np  aa  Bell  hb  Mr.  Nicol'a 
chat  and  the  jo^guig  of  the  ehaiie  nonld 
alloir.  It  eases  my  heart  a  good  deal,  as 
rhyme  is  the  coin  with  whifh  a  poet  pays  his 
debta  of  honour  or  gratitude.  What  I  owe 
to  the  noble  thmily  of  Aihole,  of  tlie  firat 
kind,  I  shall  ever  proudly  boast — what  I  owe 
of  tbs  last,  90  liel[>  me  God  in  my  hour  of 
need  I  1  sbidl  neier  forget. 

The  "lictle  angeUband !"  I  declare  I 
srayed  for  them  Ter;  aincerely  to-day  at  the 
Pall  of  Pj'ers.  I  ahali  never  forget  the  Bne 
family-piece  I  aaw  at  Blnir  i  the  amiable, 
the  tcDly  noble  duchess  (40j,  vith  her  smiling 
Lttle  seraph  in  liac  lap,  at  the  head  of  tlie 
table — tlie  lotely  "ohce  phmts,"  as  the 
Hebrew  bud  finely  says,  round  Che  happy 
mother — the  beautiful  Mra,  G-— ,  the  lorelj, 
Bwer>e  Mias  C,  &C-,  I  wish  I  had  the  powraa 
of  Gnido  to  do  them  jusCieel  Hy  Lord 
Duie'i  kmd  hosiiilality— markedly  kind  in- 
deed : — Mr.  Graham  of  Fintry's  charms  of 
eonyersalioii — Sir  W.Mnrray'a  friendship! — 
in  short,  the  recoUcction  of  all  that  polite, 
agreeable  company,  raises  an  honest  glow  in 
my  bosom.  K  B. 


TO 

MR,  GIIJiERT   BTJR 

XS 

.Ed 

«t«^J, 

nth  Septtmter 

1787. 

My   Dear  Br 

OTHEK.— I  am 

ced   here 

Ife    yesterday   e 

ening.  after   a 

tour  of 

days. 

imd  ttaveUin; 

near  600 

iSf"'v^ 

dings 

included.     My 

farthest 

ten  miles  bey 

nd  Inrer- 

went  throiigb  the  heart  of  the 

"     Crief,  Taymouth,  the  famous 

£readall«ne,  down  the  Tay, 


went  throiigl 
Highlands  by  Crief,  Taymouth,  the  fame 


among  cascades    and    Dmidical  circles   of 


ough  a 


ftmily ; 


0  Blair  of  Athole, 
its,  where  I  had  the 
y  two  days  with  his 

imonjt  i; 


id  gloomy  savage  glens, 

through  Strathspey, — ao  femoua  in  Scottish 
music  (41),— Badenoch.  fte.  till  I  reached 
Grant  Caatle,  where  I  spent  half  a  day  with 
Su:  Jaraea  Grant  and  family;  and  tlien 
crossed  the  eountry  for  Fort  George,  hut 
called  by  the  way  at  Cawdor,  the  ancient 
aeat  of  Macbeth;  tliete  I  aaw  the  identical 
bed  in  which  tradition  aays  kint;  Dunesii  was 
murdered;  bstly,  from  Fort  George  to  la- 

I  retnmed  by  the  coaat,  tlirongh  Nairn, 
Eorrca.  and  ao  on,  to  Aberdeen,  thence  to 
(42),  where  James  Bumess,  from 


Montros- 


I  our  relations,  aud  found  our 
i  Isabel,  still  alive,  and  bale 
ahn  Caird,  though  born  the 
urtather,  walks  as  vigorously 


— they  have  had  several  let 


Wilham  Brand  is 


stout  dM  felk 
M  three  weeks. 


hia  very  grave,  what  cared  1  for  fishilg-towni 
or  fertile  cnrsea?  I  slept  at  the  thmona 
Brodie  of  Brodie's  one  night,  and  dined  at 
Gordon  Castte  next  day,  with  the  didc^ 


TO  MISS  MARGARET  CIIALJIER8.  (43) 
S^pt.  m,  1737- 
I  acMn  Charlotte  the  lirst  number  of  the 
aongs ;  I  uould  not  wait  for  the  second 
number;  I  bate  delays  in  little  marks  of 
tciendahip,  as  I  hate  diasimulation  in  (he 
language  of  the  heart    1  am  determined  (o 


Ho,t,db,  Google 


par  charlotte 

number  second.  (44)  You  will  see  a  small 
attempt  on  a  shred  of  psper  in  tlie  book; 
but  tboBgb  Dr.  Blacklock  commeuded  it  very 
highl;,  I  am  not  just  satisfied  with  it  myielt. 
1  intend  toma^  it  a  description  of  some  kind; 
the  whining  cant  of  love,  except  in  teal  pas- 
sion, and  bj  a  masterly  hand,  is  to  me  as 
insulterable  aa  tlie  preaching  auit  ot  old 
Father  Smeaton,  wbig-mUiiiter  at  Kilmaiirs, 
Darta,  flames,  Cupida,  ioiea,  graces,  and  ail 

that  fettago,  are  joat  a  MauchliDB , 

a  aeiuelesa  nbble. 

I  got  an  eicelleut  poetic  epistle  yesteniight 
ftom  the  old  venerable  authoc  of  "Tnllocli- 
goram,"  "  John  of  Badenyon,"  &c.  (451.  I 
suppose  you  Imow  he  is  a  clergyman.  It  is 
by  &r  the  finest  poetic  compliment  I  ever 
^it,    I  will  send  you  a  copy  of  it. 

I  go  on  Thursday  or  Fnday  Co  Dumfriea, 
to  wmt  00  Mr,  Miller  about  liis  &rms.  Do 
i«ll  that  to  Lafly  MaclienBie,  lliat  ihe  may 
give  me  credit  for  a  httla  wisdom.  "I, 
Wisdom,  dwdl  with  Prudence."  Vilmt  a 
blessed  fire-side  1  Hov  happy  should  I  be 
to  pass  a  winter  erening  under  llieir  \ene- 
rahie  foof ;  and  smoke  a  pipe  of  tobacco,  or 
dtinli  water-gtuel  with  tiiem !  With  solemn, 
lengthened,  laughtet-quashing  gniviiy  of 
phis '.  What  aam  remarks  on  tlie  )pod-fo> 
uoClung  SODS  and  dai^hters  of  indiscretinn 
uid  foUy !  And  what  ftuga!  lessons,  as  we 
straitened  the  lire-side  cnda,  on  the  ases  of 
the  poker  and  tonga  I 

Miss  N.  is  very  well,  and  1: 
remembered  in  the  old  way  to  jo 
ail  my  elorpience,  all  the  jiersuasiV' 
of  the  hand,  and  hcart-meltiug 
f  period*  in  my  power,  to  urge 


TO  THE  REV.  JOHN  SKISNEit, 


%>  to  be 
I.    I  used 


Harrieston,  hot  all  ir 
lovely  half  of  mini!  ind.    I 


Myrl 


a  elTect 


n  the 


m  the  day 
— out  inia  IS  a  " taie  oi  omet  years:" — On 
my  cons«ence  I  believe  that  my  heart  lias 
been  so  o^  on  fire  that  it  is  absolutely  nitri- 
fied. I  look  on  the  sen  with  aomething  lite 
the  admiration  vrith  which  I  tegard  the 
starry  sky  in  a  frost?  December  night.  I 
admire  the  beauty  of  the  Creator's  workmm- 
(hip ;  I  am  charmed  with  the  wild  but 
granefnl  eeceotririty  of  their  motions,  and — 
wish  them  good  night.  1  memi  this  with 
TBspect  to  a  certain  passion  dontf  ai  eu  Vhoit- 
veKY  ^etre  un  miserable  tscUnie;  as  fbr 
friendship,  you  and  Ctial^otte  have  £iven  me 
pleasure,  permanent  pleasure,  "vAich  the 
world  wnnot  give,  nor  tale  aivay,"  I  hope, 

e«nb.  K.B. 


TO  TlIE  BEV.  JOHN  SKINNER. 
EdinMrgh,  October  25,  1787. 

SliVEBENII     AND    VeNETEABLB     SlB. — 

Accept,   iu    plaui    dnil    prose,    t 


lincere  thanks  for  the  b 


a  poet,  you  hare  conjured  up  an  airy  deiaon 
ot  vanity  in  my  fancy,  «hlcb  the  best  abiUties 
lit  your  other  capacity  would  be  ill  able  to 
by.  I  regret,  and  wlule  I  live  I  shall  re- 
gret, that  when  I  wos  uj  tha  north,  I  had 
not  the  pleasure  of  paying  a  yunnger 
brother'a  dntiful  respect  to  the  author  ot  the 
best  Seoteh  song  ever  Scotland  aai^-"  Tul- 
lo^^rnm'a  my  DeUght  l"  The  world  may 
thudi  slightmgly  of  the  oaftof  song-makmg. 
'   '       Job  says, "  Oh  that 


e  ad^ei 


i  written  a  boaltl" — let 


Thoe  ii  a  c«1ain  aoiuetlung  ii 
the  old  Scotch  songs,  a  wild  happiness  of 
thought  and  eiprcsaion,  which  peculiarly 
marks  them,  not  only  from  Knglish  aonga, 
but  also  from  the  modem  efforts  of  song- 
wrights,  iu  our  native  mauner  aud  language. 
Tbe  only  reniiuus  of  this  encliantmcnt,  thesB 
epells  of  the  imaginaljon,  rest  with  you. 
Our  true  brother,  koss  of  Lochlee,  was  like- 
wise "owie  cannie" — "a  wild  aarlock" — 
but  now  he  euigs  among  the  "sons  of  the 
tHoriiiiig." 

I  iiave  often  wished,  and  will  certainly 


Csmc  pursuits,  may  overlook  moat  of  as; 
"reverence  thyself."  The  world  is  not 
our  peeri,  so  we  ehallcnge  the  jury.  We 
can  bsh  tliat  world,  mid  find  ourselves  a 
very  great  source  of  amusement  and  happi- 


acting  and  publish 
rithlhe 


n  has  set  about  col- 


JBlltl' 


in  the  lilngUsIi  language,  if  by  Scotchmen, 
are  admitted,  but  the  music  must  all  be 
Scotch.  Drs.  Beattie  and  Bkcklock  are 
lending  a  hand,  and  the  ficat  musician  in 
town  presides  over  that  department  I  have 
been  absolut^y  crazed  about  it,  collectuig 
old  alaruas,  and  every  information  temwning 
respecting  their   origin,  authoi-s,  Ac.,  &e. 

but  at  the  end  of  hb  second  number— the 


Hosted  by  Google 


S91 


preserre  tliote  of  lattei  times.    Your  thi 
•oi^,"Tiillocheonira,"''JohTiofBgdeByoi , 
and  "Ewie  ui'lhe  Cmokit  UorD,"ga  intbis 
second  number.    I  vas  deCermiiied,  before '' 
got  jour  letter,  to  write  you,  bc^nj 


CORRESPONDENCE  OP  BUEN8. 

claim  a  parental  pang  From  m;  bardahip. 
Buppose  it  will  appear  in  Johnson's  secon 
number— tbfl  first  wad  pubbshed  before  m 


fli  would  he  eo  kind  to  this  ui 
nd  any  songa,  of  yoor  own 
you  would  think  proper  ti 


Bdiohui^h  in  a  fo«nii;bt  or  three  n 
am,  with  the  warmest  sincerity,  I 
ebliged  humble  servant. 


TO  JAJIE3   HOY,  1 


S:k.— I  will  defend  my  conduct  in  givins 
you  thii  trouble,  on  the  best  of  Cliriatiail 
principles — "  'VVhatBoever  ye  would  that  men 
thould  do  unto  you.  do  ye  ei-ea  lo  unto 


'    I  shall 


leave  my  kteat  curse  to  that  aiducky  pre- 
dicanient  which  hurried — lore  me  away  from 
Coth  Gordon.  May  that  obstinate  son  of 
Latin  prose  [Kicol]  be  curst  to  Scolcb  mile 
period^  and  damned  to  seven  lea^^ne  pars- 
gnqjhs ;  while  Declension  and  Conjiisotion, 
Gender,  Number  and  Tense,  under  the 
ragged  banners  of  Uijsnnance  and  Disar- 
rangement, etemotly  tank  ^mnst  him  in 
hostile  array. 

Allow  me.  Sir,  to  Btrengfhen  the   small 
claim  I  have  to  your  acquaintance,  by  the 

Joliusoii,  in  Edinburgh,  baa,  not  from  mer- 
cenary views,  but  from  an  honest  Scotch 
CDthuaiaam,  set  about  collectiug  all  our 
uatiye   songs,  and  setting   them  to  music, 

Sarticularly  those  tliat  have  nevM  been  set 
ifore.  Clarke,  the  well-known  musician, 
S-esides  over  the  musical  arrangement,  and 
a.  BeattiB  and  BlacUock,  Mr.  l-ytler  of 
TVoodhoaselee,  and  your  humble  servant  to 
the  utmost  of  his  small    power,  assist  in 


irotds.    Tha  brats,  to 


'  Cauld  Kail  in  Aberdeen  "  is  one  intended 

iracB  of  Gordon's  words  to  it,  which  you 
rere  so  kind  as  to  repeat  to  me.  (47)    Ifou 


oony 


s  almost  foi^tlen,  wiQ  be  u; 

1  not  well  know  where  to  write 
...  _  .  ither  write  at  you ;  but  if  you 
will  he  so  ohUging,  immediately  on  recHpt  Ot 
this,  as  to  write  me  a  few  lines,  I  slutU  pe> 
haps  pay  you  in  kind,  though  not  in  quality. 
Johnson's  terms  are  ; — each  number  a  hand- 


c. 

The  p 

ce  to 

ubsd 

ibcrs, 

M.    He  wUl  liave 

r  three 

weeks  will 

Tow 

,Ediu 

burgh. 

I  arn.  Sir, 

;md 

KB. 

TO    THE    SAME. 

EdMarsk,  November  Glh,  1737. 
Dear  Sir.— I  would  bate    wrote    yoa 
iraediately  on  receipt  of   your  kind  letter 
It  a  mined  impulse  D/j,Tatitude  and  esteem 
whimpered  to  me  that  I  o\^ht  to  send  you 
aomethins  by  way  of  return.    When  a  poet 
owca  anything,  particularly  when  he  is  in- 
debted for  good  oHlceB,  the  payment  tluit, 
usasUy  recurs  to  him — the  only  coin  indeed 
in    which    ha    is    probably  conversant — is 
rhyme.     Johnson  sends  the  books  by  the 
fly,  as  directed,  and  begs  me  to  enclose  his 
most  erateful  thanks ;  my  return  I  intended 
should  have  been  one  or  two  poetie  baga- 

perliaps,  for  obvious  reasons,  cannot  see. 
These  I  shall  send  yon  before  I  leave  Edin- 
burgh. They  may  make  you  laugh  a  little, 
which,  on  the  whole,  is  no  bad  way  ot  spend- 


IS  breath 

at    an 

y  rate,   they  w 

1   b^ 

ugh  a  am 

11,  yet 

a  very  sincere,  mark  of 

respectful 

esteem 

for  a  geutlemaa 

wbOH 

Ho,t,db,  Google 


TO  THE  EAEL  OP  GLENCAIEN, 


The  duke'a 


oident  I 


tally  of    ( 


his  dukeahip,  char 
uot  «bat  of  wild  happinesa  of  thought . 
eiptcasion  peculiarly  beautiful  in  the 
Scottish  song  style,  of  which  bis  Grace,  old 
venerable  Skinner,  tha  author  of  "Tulloch- 
gMum,"  &c.,  and  the  late  Rosa,  at  Lodilee, 
of  true  Scottjsh  poetic  memory,  are  the 
rally  modem  instancee  that  I  recollect,  since 
with  his  contemporaries,  and  poor 

'  to  the  world  of  death- 

y  immottal  song.  The 
mob  of  mankind,  that  many-lieaded  1>eii! 

old  Bong;  but  as  Joh  saya,  "  Oh  that  mil 
adversary  had  written  a  honk  i  "  Those  wl 
think  that    composing  a  Scotch  aong  is 

I  wiah  my  Lord  Duke  would  pay  a  propi 
attention  to  tha  Chnattau  aitiuonitiou- 
"  Hide  not  yonr  candle  under  a  buahel,"  hi 
"  Let  your  light  shine  before  men."  I  cou 
name  halt  a  dosen  duhea  that  I  guess  are 
dcviliah  deal  worse  employed ;  nay.  I  que 
tion  if  there  are  half  a  ilozen  better :  pe 
haps  titere  are  not  half  that  acuity  nnmhi 
whom  Heaven  has  favoiitedwith  thetunefi 
hnppy,  and  I   will    say.  glorinns    gift. 


Sob  Fergusson.  went 


TO  THE  EARL  OP  GLTJNCAIKN. 
^dtntorpi,  1787. 

Mv  Lord.  —  I  know  your  lordabip  will 
disapprove  of  my  ideas  in  a  request  I  ira 
going  to  make  to  you ;  but  I  have  weighed, 
long  and  seriously  weighed,  my  situation, 
my  liO{>e3  and  turn  of  mind,  and  am  fully 
fl>Led  to  my  scheme,  if  1  can  possibly  cfCecti^ 
ate  it,  I  wish  to  get  into  the  Eiciae ;  1  am 
told  that  your  lordship's  interest  will  easily 
procure  me  the  grant  from  the  eo 


e  that    s 


reOu! 


EdmlinrjiA,  Si^aday  M 


a  proper  length  of  face  in  my  bitter 
iH>un  of  blue-deviliem,  and  you  laugh  fully 
up  to  my  highest  wishes  at  my  good  Utings. 
I  dont  know,  upon  the  whole,  if  yon  are 
one  of  the  finC  fellows  in  God's  world,  but 
you  are  so  to  me.  1  tell  yon  this  just  now, 
in  the  conviction  that  some  inequalities  in 


mother,  two  brothers,  and  three  aisters,  from 
destruction,  'Iher^  my  lord,  yon  have 
bound  me  over  to  the  bigiieat  gratitude. 

My    brother's   farm   is   but  a  BTCtched 
leaae,  hut  1  think  he  will  probably  weather 

after  the  assistance  which  I  have  given,  and 
will  give  him,  to  keep  the  ihmily  tc^ther,  I 
think,  by  my  guess,  I  shall  have  rather 
heller  than  two  hundred  pounds,  and  instead 
of  seekii^Ci  W'liat  is  almost  impoasible  at 

live  by,  with  ao  amall  a  stock,  1  shall  lodge 
this  sum  in  a  banking-house,  k  sacred 
deposit,  eKcepting  only   the  calls   of  un- 

These,  my  lord,  are  ray  views ;  1  hare 

unturned  to  carry  my  resolve  into  execuboiL 
Your  lordslUp's  patron^  is  the  strength  of 
my  hopes;  nor  have  lyet  applied  to  any- 
body else.  Indeed,  my  heart  sinks  within 
me  at  the  idea  of  applying  to  any  other  o[ 
the  great  who  liave  honoured  me  with  their 

heela  of  gteatneas  with  the  impertinence 
of  Bohdtalion,  and  tremble  nearly  as  much 

cold  denial ;   hut  to  your  lordship  I  have 

pleasure  of  being  your  lordship's  much 
obliged  and  deeply  indebted  humble  servant. 


Ho,t,db,  Google 


COEEESPONDENCE  OF  BURNS. 


TO  CHARLES  HAY,  Esa.,  ADVOCATE, 

SiE.— The  endow d  poem  WBS  "f 
consequence  of  jour  suggestion,  li 
luul  the  pleasure  of  seeing  you.  I 
(11  hour  or  Wo  of  iieit  oicruiiig'B  sleep,  but 
did  uoC  please  me  i  so  it  ky  by,  au  ill-di 
gesled  eEort,  till  tlie  other  doj  that  I  ga« 
it  a  critic  bruah.  These  kind  of  subjecCi 
are  much  hacliiejed;  and,  besides,  the 
wailiugs  o(  the  ihyiaiug  thbe  oiec  the  aahei 
of  the  great  are  cursedly  suspidous,  and  oul 
of  all  chamcter  for  sincerity,  'i'bese  ideaa 
damped  ray  muse's  lire;    however,  I  hav 


tallet 


giies  me  an  opportunity  of  declaring  tlial  I 


TO  MISS  M— 
SatHTdny  iVoon,  No.  %  St 


the  f 


beudiug  over  the  intended  card;  my  Hied 
eye  iuaensihle   to  the  verj^  light  iS   day 

Cred  atouud ;  my  peudaloua  goose-feather, 
led  with  ink,  huk|i;iBK  over  the  &Cure 
letter,    all    fin    the    miportaiit  purpose  of 

Biiting  a  complimentary  card  to  uccc 

your  triuket. 

Compliment  ia  snch  a  mlaeraiile 
laud  ejpreasion,  lies  at  such  chill) 
distance  from  the  tornd  sone  of  m 
BtitDtion,  that  1  cannot,  iit  the  very 

Soe  must  have  tot  you  who  knows  you. 

As  I  leive  town  in  three  or  four  days,  1 
tan  giie  myself  llie  pleasure  of  caQujj  on 
yououly foranuuule.  'I'uesday evening, some 
time  about  seven  or  after,  1  shall  uait  oa 
you  for  your  fiirenetl  commands. 

The  hinge  of  your  hoi  I  put  into  the  hands 
of  the  proper  connoisseur.  The  broken  glaas, 
likewise,  went  under  review ;  hut  deliberate 
wisdom  thought  it  would  loo  much  endanger 
the  whole  Mric.  1  am,  dear  Madam,  with 
all  sincerity  of  enthusiasm,  ydui  very  lAeiii- 
Gnt  servant,  K.  B. 


TO  MISS  CHALMERS. 

EdmbuTgh,  Hoc.  21, 1787. 

I  HATB  one  veiatioua  fiiult  to  the  kindly 
welcome  well-filled  sheet  which  I  owe  to 
your  and  Charlotte's  (49)  goodness— it  con- 

siwlling.  It  is  impossihle  that  even  you 
two,  whom  I  declare  to  my  God  I  will  give 
credit  for  any  degree  of  excellence  the  sex 
are  capable  of  atttuning — it  in  imposaihle  you 

like  those  who,  Shenstoue  says,  retire 
because  they  have  made  a  good  epeecli,  I 

you.  I  insist  that  you  shall  write  whatever 
comes  first  i  what  you  tee,  what  you  read, 
what  you  hear,  what  you  aiimire,  what  yiiii 
dislike,  ttiflcs,  bagatelles,  nonsense^  or  to 
mi  up  a  comer,  e'en  put  dow^  a  laugh  at 
full  length.  Now,  none  of  ymir  polite  hints 
about  flattery ;  I  leave  that  to  your  lovers, 

Heaven,  I  have  at  Uat  two  girls  who  con  he 
luxuriantly  happy  in  their  own  minds  and 
with  one  another,  without  tliat  commonly 
necessary   appendage   to   female   bliss — a 

Charlotte  and  you  are  just  two  laiourite 
rc9tln];-placei  for  my  soul  iii  her  wanileringa 
through  the  weary,  thorny  wilrlerueas  of  tliis 
world.  God  knons,  I  am  ill-iitted  for tlie 
struggle :    I  glory  in  being;  a  poet,  and  I 

fondly  be  generous,  and  I  wish  to  be  rii^li. 
After  all,  f  am  afraid  I  am  a  lost  subject. 
"Some  folic  hoe  a  haulle  a'&nta,aud  I'm 
but  a  ne'er-do-weel," 

^^leniooi..— To  close  the  melancholy  re- 


TO  THE   SA5IB. 

ZiiinturjJ,  Dec,  12,  1787, 

T  AM  here  under  the  care  of  a  soi^;eDn, 

with  slruiscd  limb  extended  on  acuahiou; 

and  the  tints  of  my  mind  vyuig  with  the 

livid  horror  preceding  a  miduighc  thunder- 


Ho,t,db,  Google 


storm.    A  dninlien  cwrehnuui  WHS  tha 

of  the  first,  und  iDconipatably  the  lighieat 
evil  I  misfotlune,  bodily  conatitutjon,  hell, 
Bnd  myaelf,  have  formed  a  "  quadrapla  alli- 
ance"  toguaraBtea  the  other.  I  got  my  foil 
on  Saturday,  aud  am  getting  sloii-ly  bef  - 


mi  am  got  th 


■sally  a  glo 


day,  and  ordered  him  to  get  me  an  octavo 
Bible  in  sheets,  the  beat  paper  and  print  in 
town,  aiid  hind  it  with  all  the  elegance  of  his 
craft. 

1  ivould  give  my  best  aong  to  my  worat 

Imo  you  and  Charlotte  by  nie.     You  (re 

wine  into  my  wounded  spirit. 

I  enclose  you  a  proof  copy  of  the  "Banks 
of  the  Devon,"  which  present  with  my  best 
wishes  to  Ciinrlotte.  ITie'^Ochil-hills"  (iJO) 
T0«  Bhdl  probably  have  iieil  B'eek  for  you^ 
self,    Moneofyourhuesiieecheil    It.  B, 


)  TIIE   SAJIE. 
;dtB!iHivj»,  Pec.  19(1, 1787. 


first  time,  yescetday  I  cvossed  the 
cnitclieB.  It  wouhl  do  yonr  lieait 
ee  my  baidslup,  not  on  my  poetie, 
ly  oaten  stiltn  j  throwing  my  best 


ewly   li 


a  May  bog 
.    „  .  iiw«l   'irfge, 

enjoyuig  the  ftaj;raiice  of  tlie  refreshed  earth, 
after  tl^  long-^xpeeled  shower ! 

1  eau't  say  I  am  altogether  at  my  ease 
Then  1  see  anywhere  in  my  path  that  mea- 
gre, aquaUd,  famine-faced  spectre,  poverty ; 
attended,  as  be  always  is,  by  iron-fisted 
oppression  and  leering  contempt ;  but  I 
hwe  sturdily  withstood  bis  buffettiugs  niMiy 
a  bard-lahaiired  day  aiready,  and  still  my 
motto  is — I  DAKE 1    My  worst  enemy  is 


■nd  pasiion ;  and  the  heavy-armed  veteran 
regukrs  of  wisdom,  prudence  and  fore- 
thought move  so  very,  very  slow,  that  I  am 
almost  in  a  state  of  perpetual  wnr£ire,  and. 


iAUmUS.  297 

aal  frequent  defeat  There  ate  jost  two 
eatutes  I  would  envy ;  a  horse  in  his  wild 
ate  traversing  the  foresta  of  Asia,  or  an 
'ster  on  some  of  the  desert  shores  of 
urope.  The  one  has  not  a  wish  uithout 
ijoymeul^  the  other  has  neither  wish  nor 


TO  THE  SAME. 

Edmba^h,  Dee..  1787. 
itv  Dear  trADAii. — I  just  now  have 
read  yours.  Tbo  poetic  eonipliinents  I  pay 
cannot  be  misunderstood,  lliey  are  neither 
of  them  so  particular  as  to  point  yon  out  to 
the  world  at  large ;  and  the  circle  of  your 
acquaintances  will  allow  all  I  have  aaiiL 
BEsidea,  I  have  complimented  you  chicay, 
alniostsalcly,oayouc  mental  charms.  Sh^ 
1  be  pMu  with  you  ?    I  will ;  so  ionk  to  it. 

above  par;  wit,  understanding  and  worth, 
you  possess  in  the  first  class.  This  is  a 
cursed  Sat  way  of  telling  you  these  tmths. 
but  let  me  Itear  no  more  of  your  sheepish 
timidity.  £  tnowthawoildalittte.  I  iiuo« 
ubal  they  mil  say  of  my  pocins — by  aeconil 
sight,  1  suppose— for  1  am  seldrim  out  in  my 
conjectures ;  and  you  may  believe  me,  toy 
dear  Mailam,  I  would  not  run  any  risk  of 
hurting  yuu  by  any  ill-judgeil  compliment. 
I  wish  to  show  tlio  world  the  odds  between 
a  poet's  friends  aud  those  of  simple  prose- 
men.  Uore  for  your  information,  both  the 
pieces  go  in.  Oneof  them,  "Where  braving 
angry  Winlet's  Storms,"  is  already  set — the 
tune  in  Neii  Cow's  Latncnlalioii  fur  Aber- 

Highland  liriu  Daoid  Dow's  collectmn  c^ 
ancient  Scots  mitsic  j  the  name  is  "  Ha  a 
Ciaitlick  ah-  na  D&cilk." 


memory  has  forgo 

t  every  dreomstance  about 

Cos   lacaai   only,  I  think  you  mentioned 

them  as  beii« 

n  Creech's   possessiou.    I 

bIbH  ask  him  about  it.    I  am  iftaid  the  song 

of  "Somebody" 

will    come  too  late-as  I 

shaU  for  certan 

leave  town  in  a  week  for 

Ayrshire,  and  fn 

mi  that  to  Dumfries,  but 

are  slender.     I  leave  my 

direction  in  town 

so  any  thing,  wherever  I 

0 ;   it   is  not  too 

severe,  nor  did 

e  take  it  amiss.     On  the 

contrary,  lite  a 

n^hipt  spaniel,  he  taliis  of 

behig  with  you  in 

the  ChriatmM  days,    Mr. 

!-l,as  given 

him  the  invitation,  and  he 

is  determined  to 

accept  -d  it.    Oh  aalfish. 

Ho,t,db,  Google 


his  sober  moments,  that 
lilily  of  inclinstioQ,  the 
'hich  he  is  situated,  tuid 
bis  knowledfe  of  liis  ^ther'a  diapoaiEii 


COHRESPOSDENCE  OP  Bl-RKS. 
you  kindly  tiew  n 


■ical — yet  he  mil  gratify 


sn    idle  ]ieneAin( 
tlipeuse,  of  perhaps  rut 
vny  woman   for  who 
geoeroiu  paiuon  of  1o 

He  is  a  Yoktila  sehoo .   ._ 

mwi's  fortune  abo  aell  laiows  the  value  of 

Ferdition  seize  tliem  and  their  fortunes, 
before  they  sboidd  make  tlie  amiable,  the 

lovely  • — ,  the  derided  object  of  their 

{Furse-proud  contempt ! 

I  am  doubly  happy  to  hear  of  Mrs. *s 

ovw  «ith  her.    Thera  are  days  of  pleasure 
jet  awmtinj  her ; — 

Aa  1  cam  in  by  Glenap. 

1  met  with  an  aged  woman ; 

For  the  beat  0'  my  days  was  comin.'  (51) 

This  day  will  decide  my  affairs  with  Creeih. 

Things  are,  Uke  myself,  uot  ivhat  they  ougbt 

to  be;    yet  better  than  what  they  appear 


TO  SIR  JOHN  "WIIITEFOOKD. 
£i!iiiiHiTj(i,  December,  1787. 
Sir. — Mr  IVIaekenzie,  in  Mauchlioe,  my 
Tety  warm  and  worthy  friend  (S2J,  has  iu- 
formed  me  buw  much  you  me  pleased  to 
interest  yourself  in  my  Me  as  a  man,  and 
(what  to  me  is  incomparably  dearer)  my  fame 
■a  a  poet.  I  luve.  Sir,  in  one  or  two  luscances, 
been  patroitised  by  those  of  your  character 
in  Me,  when  I  was  ujtroduced  to  tlieit  notice 
by  ■  •  ■  •  *  friends  to  them,  and  honoured 
acquaintances  (o  me ;  but  you  are  the  Urst 
gentleman  in  the  country  whose  benevolence 
and  Roodneas  of  heart  has  inleteated  bim- 
lelf  for  me,  unsolicited  and  unknown.  I  am 
not  master  enough  of  the  etiquette  of  these 

whether  formal  duty  bade,  or  cold  propriety 


Wlac 


lallowed,  my  th 


iced,  from  tlie  llgliC  in  which 


a  wiU  ia  ma 


of  the  needy,  sharping  author, 
fastening  on  those  in  upper  life  who  honour 

Indeed,  the  situation  of  poets  is  generally 
such,  to  a  proverb,  as  may,  in  some  measure, 
palliate  tliat  prostitution  of  heart  and  talents 
they  have  at  times  been  guilty  of.  I  do  not 
think  ptodigdity  is, by  any  meant,  a  ncMssary 
concomitant  of  a  poetic  turn,  but  I  believe  a 

almost  inseparable  from  it ;  then  there  must 
be  iu  the  heart  of  every  bard  of  Nature's 

with  a  kind  of  pride,  that  will  ever  keep  him 
out  of  the  ivay  of  those  windfidla  of  iortune 
which  ti^queutly  light  on  hardy  impudence 
and  foot-hdiing  servility.  It  is  not  easy  to 
imagine  a  mote  helpless  state  than  his  whose 
poetic  fancy  unfits  him  for  the  WDrl<l,  uid 


ir  gives  him 
o  the  pQlilemi  of  hfe— 


never  elevated  my 
■'s  shed,  and  I  have 
it  the  plough-tail. 


miletuaii,  should  bt 

I  Btoop  to  tmduce  the  m 


ofool 


unhumauly  cruel,  too,  as  to 
niedille  with  that  late  most  unfortunate,  nn- 
happy  part  of  my  story.  With  a  tear  of 
gratitude.  I  thank  yon.  Sir,  for  the  warmth 
with  which  you  interposed  ui  behalf  of  my 
conduet.  I  am,  I  acknowledge,  too  freijiien  tly 
the  sport  of  whim,  cajvice  and  passion ;  huC 
reverence  to  God,  and  int^rity  to  my  fellow- 


lake  you  for  your 
one — a  return  whicb.I  am  per* 
ol  be  unacceptable — the  lionest, 
ot  a  grateful  heart  for  youi 
d  every  one  of  that  lov^  flock 


Ho,t,db,  Google 


my  brotlter  b  sn  excellent 
betudea,  an  exHedingly  pmc 
(qoalilies  which  are  only  a  yc 
fortune  in  our  family),  I  am 


TO  MISS  WILLIAMS. 

farmer,  and  ia, 
lent  sober  men 
lunget  brother's 


partnership  with  him,  and  at  one  leisure  take 
auotber  tiuiii  in  the  neighhourhooil. 

1  assure  you  I  loot  for  high  complimenla 
from  you  and  Charlotte  on  this  very  sage 

sihle  wiadom. — Talking  of  Chadotlc  I  mual 
tell  her  that  I  have,  to  the  best  of  my 
power,  paid  her  a  poetic  complimeat  now 
completed.  The  air  is  admirable ;  true  old 
Highlaiifl.    It  was  the  tune  of 


jougw 


in  luvei 


t  charmed  with  it,  that 
I  begged  her  to  wrileme  a  set  of  it  from  her 
aingidg,  for  it  had  never  been  set  before.  I 
am  Hxed  Uiat  it  sball  go  iu  Johnion's  next 
number;  «o  Charlotte  and  yon  need  not 
spend  youF  precioua  time  iu  eoutradic^ting 
me,  I  won't  say  the  poetry  is  first-tate, 
though  I  am  convinced  it  is  sety  well ;   and. 


:a  ladies 


o«ly  SI 


e,  but 


TO  MISS  WILUAMS  (53), 


ID  ail  I  ca 


y  littl 


»i,  as  I  read  along,  what  jiassi^s 

and  vliere  the  expression  seeina  to  be  per- 
plexed or  foully. 

The  poem  opens  finely.  There  are  none 
of  those  i;tle  prefatory  tinea  which  one  may 
skip  over  before  one  comea  to  tlic  subject. 
Verses  9th  and  IBth  in  particular. 

Leaves  a  drear  world  of  waters  ronnd, 
are  truly  beautiful.  The  simile  of  the  hur- 
ricane is  likewise  Hue ;  and,  indeed,  beantiful 
as  Che  poem  is,  almost  all  the  simile:  nse 
decidedly  above  it.  Prom  verso  Slat  to  verae 
GOth  ia  a  pretty  eulogy  on  Biitun.  Verse 
36th.  "  That  foul  drami  deep  stith  wrong," 
IS  nobly  eipresaive.  Verae  4Gth,  I  am  afrmd, 
ia  rather  unworthy  of  the  rest ;  "  to  dare  to 
fed,"  is  an  idea  that  I  do  not  altogether  like, 
llie  contrast  of  valonr  and  mercy,  tram  the 
46th  veiN  to  the  50th,  is  admiralJB. 


Either  my  apprehension  ia  dull,  or  there 
is  Bomething  a  little  confused  in  the  apos- 
trophe to  Mr.  Pitt.  Verse  55th  is  the  ante- 
eedent  to  venes  57th  and  5S,  but  in  verse 
58th  the  connection  seems  ungrammatical ; — 
Powers        •  •  • 

%yith  HO  gradations  mark'd  their  flight 
But  rose  at  once  to  glory's  height. 
IUs*n  should  be  the  word  instead  of  rosa. 
Try  it  in  prose.  "  Powers — their  flight  mar- 
ked by  no  gradations,  but  [the  same  pow«a] 
risen  at  once  to  the  height  of  glory."  Like- 
wise, verae  63cd,  "Pot  this,"  ia  evidently 
meant  to  lead  on  the  sense  of  the  verses 
59ib,  80th,  61st  and  6?nd;  but  let  us  try 
how  the  thread  of  coimectiou  runs — 


For  this 


Shall 


at  embrace 


Tiie  fairest  houours  of  thy  nt 
I  beg  pardon  if  I  misappreliend  the  ma 
It  this  apiu  ars  to  u^e  the  only  iiupe 

The  coninliment  to  the  Dnke  of  Eichni 


isjusl 


linly  d 


Sends  from  her  unsullied  source. 
The  gems  of  thouglit  their  purest  fi 
1  eiceediogly  beautiful     The  idea, 
ase  61st   to  the  H.ntb,   that  the 
ecree"  ia  like  the  beams  of  nuroi 


blest 


he  beams  of  morning  ushenng 
day  of  liberty,  oi^t  not  to 
pass  unnoucea  or  unepplauded.  iVom  verse 
(i5th  to  verse  103,  is  an  auimated  contrast 
between  the  unfeeling  selfishness  of  the  op- 
pressor on  the  one  hand,  and  the  misery  of 
the  captive  ou  the  other.  Verse  88th  might 
perliaps  be  amended  thus : — "  Xor  ever  quit 

bound,  but  we  fuU  ft  maze.     Versa  lOOtb  ia 
eiLquisitely  beautifol : — 

They,  whom  wasted  blessings  tire. 
Verse  llOlh  is,  I  doubt,  a  dashing  of  raeta. 
pbois;  "to  load  aspMi"  is,  I  Bl 


In  V. 
shade," 


114th, 
le  idea. 

From  the  llBtli  verse  to  the  142nd  is  a 
striking  description  of  the  wrongs  of  the 
poor  African.  Verse  l2Ulh,  "The  load  of 
unremitted  pain,"  a  a  remarkable,  strong 


Ho,t,db,  Google 


CORRESPONDENCE  OP  BUENS. 


eipcnaion.  "ne  nildrfss  to  the  sdiws 
for  aholishiog  the  slave-trade,  from  vi 
143rd  to  verse  203th,  is  aalmated  with 
true  life  of  Eeoius.    The  picture  of  opp 


And  marks  if  death  or  life  prevails — 

What  a  tender  ides  is  in  verse  ISOthl 
Indeed,  that  »hole  description  of  home  may 
fie  with  Thomson^a  description  of  home, 
somewhere  in  the  h^iunin^  of  his  Autamn. 
I  do  not  reinemher  to  haie  seen  a  stronger 
eipteasion  of  misery  than  is  contained  in 

Condemned,  severe  estreme,  to  live 
Wbcu  all  is  fled  that  life  can  give. 
The  cnmpamon  of  our  distant  joys  to  distant 
ohjecta  is  eqnaUy  original  and  striking. 

The  character  and  manners  of  the  dealer 
in  the  infernal  tnlSc  is  a  well  done,  thon<rh 
a  horrid  picture,  1  am  not  sure  how  far 
introducing  the  sailor  was  right ;  for  though 
the  sailor's  common  clianicteristic  is  gene- 
rosity, jet,  in  this  case,  he  is  certainly  not 
only  an  nnconcemed  witness,  hnt,  in  some 
degree,  an  efficient  agent  m  the  business. 
Verse  324(li  is  nervous  and  expressive— 
"The  heart  convulsive  anguish  breaka," 
The  dcBcripdon  of  ths  captive  wretch  when 
he  arrives  in  the  West  Indies,  is  carried  on 
with  equal  spirit.  The  thought  that  the 
oppressor's  sorrow,  on  seeing  the  slave  pine, 
b  like  the  huccher's  regret  tvhen  his  destmed 
Iamb  diea  a  natural  death,  is  exceedingly 

I  ani  got  so  mneh  into  the  cant  of  cril^ 
dam,  that  I  begin  to  be  afraid  lest  I  have 
notliing  escepl  the  cant  of  it ;  and  instead 
of  elncidating  my  author,  am  only  benighting 
myself.  For  this  reason,  I  will  not  pretend 
to  go  through  the  whole  poem.  Some  few 
remaining  beautiful  lines,  however,  I  cannot 
pass  over.  Verse  g 
descriptioii  of  aelSshi 
comparison  in  verses  ^^in  ana  ^orn 
new  and  fine;  and  the  iine,''Your  arms 
penury  you  lend,"  is  eicellent. 

In  terse  aiTth."like"  should  certainly 

His  sway  the  liardened  bosom  leada 

To  cruelty's  iwnorseless  deeds : 

As  (or,  so)  the  blue  lightning  when  it  aprin 

'With  fnry  on  its  livid  wings. 

Darts  on  the  foal  witli  rapid  force. 


saw.    The 


If  you  in 

ert 

he  word 

"Hke"  where  I 

ve  placed 

'■as 

'you  m 

St  alter  "darts" 

"  darting. 

and 

"heeds 

to"  heeding."  in 

dertomak 

grammar 

A  tempest  is  it 

onrite  subject 

with  th 

poets,  but  I  do 

t  rcmemh 

I  any  thing,  e 

en  iu  Thomson's 

347th  to  the  351st.  indeed,  the  la 
berfnning  with  "Fancy  may  dress,"  Sic, 
and  ending  with  the  SSOtb  verse,  is,  in  my 
opinion,  the  most  beautiful  passage  in  the 
poem ;  it  would  do  honour  to  the  greatest 
names  that  ever  graced  our  profession. 

I  will  not  beg  your  pardon.  Madam,  foe 
these  strictures,  as  my  consdence  tells  me. 
that  for  once  in  niy  life  I  have  acted  up  to 
(he  duties  of  a  Christian,  in  doing  as  I  would 
be  done  by.  R,  B. 


TO    MR.    RiCUARD    BROWN, 

IBYINE.    (54) 

EiJuilKrjS,  Sec.  SOIh,  1787. 
Mt  Dear  Sis.— I  have  met  with  ier 
tilings  in  life  which  liave  ^ven  nut  more 
pleasure  than  Fortune's  kmdness  to  you 
smce  tiiose  days  in  which  we  met  in  the  vale 
of  misery;  as  I  can  honestly  say.  tliat  I 
never  knew  a  man  who  more  truly  deserved 
it,  or  to  whom  my  heart  more  truly  wished 
It.  I  have  beea  much  indebted  since  tliat 
time  to   your   story  auc" 


Myw 


iiichi 


wiap  fate  you  iinow!  uo  you  reoouect  a 
Sunday  we  spent  together  in  EgUnton 
woods?  You  told  me,  on  my  repeatiu" 
some  verses  to  you,  that  yon  wondered  t 
could  resist  the  temptation  of  sending  versca 
of  such  merit  to  a  mi^asuie.  It  was  from 
tliis  remark  1  derived  that  idea  of  my  own 
pieces  which  encouraged  me  to  endeavour  at 
the  character  of  a  poet.  I  am  luippy  to 
hear  that  you  will  be  two  or  three  months 
at  home.  As  soon  as  a  bruised  limb  will 
permit  me,  I  shall  retiu'u  to  Ayrshire,  and 
we  shall  meet ;  "  and  fmlh,  I  hope  well  not 

I  have  much  to  tell  you  "of  men,  tbdr 
ways,''  pe 


Apro| 


hered  to  Sirs.  Brown. 


something  of  an  altered,  but  not  a  different 
man ;  tlie  wild,  ixrfd.  generous  young  fellow 
composed    into    the    steady,   tffecliotuite 


Ho,t,db,  Google 


TO  CLiMNDA 


&I1  sod  change,  I  am  the  Inelless  liclim  of 
nud  tonudoe),  whieb  blow  me  into  cliaos. 
Almigbtj  love  atill  reigna  and  revels  in  mj 
boaom ;  and  I  am,  at  this  moment,  ready  to 
bang  myself  for  a  yonng  ELUnbnrah  widon' 
(55),  who  bag  nit  and  nisdom  nune  mnrde- 
toualy  Mel  Chun  the  asaacsinating  stiletto  of 
tlie  Sidhan  bandit,  or  the  poisoned  arrow  of 
the  Bavage  African.  My  Higiiland  dirk, 
that  used  to  hang'"""" -.->---  ¥!._.._ 


gravely  removed  into  8  ne^hboi 
the  kejr  of  which  I  cannot  comm 
of  apnng-tidfl  paroxyams.  Vol 
of  her  wit  by  the  foUoniug  verse 


ing  closet, 
may  gneas 


Aud  plunged  me  deep  in  woe ! 
Bat  Inendahip's  pure  and  lasting  joys. 

My  lieart  was  formed  to  prove — 
Tliere,  welcome,  win  and  wear  the  prize. 

But  never  talk  of  Io<e  I 
Tonr  friendship  much  can  mulie  me  blest- 

Oh,  why  tluit  bliss  destroy  ? 
^^'hy  urge  tha  odious  one  reqaest. 


GAVIN  HAMILTON, 
Edinburgh,  Dec,  1787, 
Mi  Dear  Sin.—It  is  indeed  with  the 
pleasure  that  I  congratulate  yon 


highe 


pleasure  sftf 

last  in  Ayrshire.  I  seldom  pray  for  any- 
body— ''  I'm  baith  lieaii-sweer  and  wretclied 
ill  o't;"  but  most  fcrvenily  do  I  beseeeh 
the  Power  that  directs  the  woi^d,  tliat  you 
may  live  long  and  be  happy,  but  live  no 
longer  than  );ou  are  happy.  It  is  needless 
for  me  to  advise  vou  to  have  i 
of  your  health.    1  know  yoa 


bofwi 


,(Im 


in  English  pmtj. 


drams  you  will  never  more  taste ;  and,  above 
all  things,  I  am  convinced,  that  after  drinking 
perhaps  boiling  pnnch  you  will  never  moant 

Kc  liorse  and  gallop  home  in  a  chill  late 
r.  Above  eM  things,  as  I  understand  yon 
are  in  habits  rfmtimacy  with  that  Booiiergea 
of  gospel  powers.  Father  Auld,  he  earnest 
with  him  that  be  Bill  wrestle  in  prayer  foi 
you,  that  you  may  see  the  vanity  of  vaniliea 
in  trusting  to,  oi  even  praclisuig,  the  casual 
moral  works  of  charity,  humanity,  generosity, 
and  fb^venesi  of  things,  which  you  practised 
so  dagrantly,  that  it  was  evident  yoa  de- 
lighted m  them,  neglecting,  or  perhaps  pro- 
ftnelj  despising,  the  wholMome  doctrine  of 
faith  without  works,  the  only  author  of 
salvation.  A  hymn  of  thauksgiiing  would, 
in  my  opinion,  be  bigbl)*  becoming  from  yoa 
at  present,  and  in  my  eeal  for  your  well- 
being,  I  earnestly  press  on  you  to  be  diligent 


eliall  ever  high  y  esteem  anil  n  whose 
welfare  I  shall  ever  be  \>arm]y  Interested. 

Our  worthy  common  frieiid,  in  her  usual 
pleasant  way,  rallied  me  a  good  deal  on  aif 
new  acqnamldnce,  and  in  the  humour  of  hei 
ideas  1  wrote  some  lines,  winch  I  enclose 
you,  as  I  think  they  liave  a  good  deal  of 

poetic  merit ;  and  Miss tells  me  you  are 

not  only  a  critic,  but  a  poetess,  tlcUon, 
you  know,  is  the  na^ve  rc^n  of  poetry ; 
and  I  hope  you  will  pardon  my  vanity  ii 

idmg  you  the  bagatelle  J  -  -  --' — "-  -" 


hand  jea-d'esprit. 


tolerable  ■ 


shall  gladly  leane  with  Miss 

,  or  you,  if  they  were  worth    house- 

rooni ;  as  there  are  scarcely  two  people  oa 

be  forgotten,  though  at  the  distance  of  nine- 
score  miles.— I  am.  Madam,  with  the  highest 
tespect,  your  lery  bnmble  servant 


Hosted  by  Google 


TO  T 


COERESPOSDEfTCB  OF  BURSS. 

please  in  its  place.      1  believe  there  la 
poncleDCe,  w 


have  hod  Chat 
unludiy  full  from  ■< 


vexed  u 


I  CAN    sa;  with  truth,  Mudam,  Chi 

more  ani:iansly  wished  M  mcuC  tueia   I 

yoiiiself.    IVuight  1  \ 

vetyet-  '    '  '- 

the  iiie 

lias  90  I 

atir  my  leg ;    go  if  I  diiii't  see  joii  asalo,  I 

.k.1, _...    : g    f^  |,,,^|_        r 

had  net  seen  yoa 

ms.    1 
ilfea  of  leaviug  Ediuburgh 

atn  sCraiL^ly  tokei 
m  I  Dfteu  luislakea. 


TO  THE  S.UJE. 
doy  EBCiimy,  Dte.  22iid,  1787. 
iir  ]iardon,  my  dear  "Clariiida,' 


e  dmracter. 


sbililiet,  ai^  critictd  knon-lolge,  I 
highest  veiieratiou,  citlled  hi  juat  ta  1  had 
b^uD  the  second  sentence,  aiid  I  would  not 
make  Che  potter  wait.  I  read  to  my  much 
reanected  tiiend  some  of  my  omi  bagatelles, 
and,  among  otiiera,  jrour  hnea,  which  1  had 
copied  out.  He  bB;;an  aonie  critimams  on 
them  as  on  the  other  pieces,  wheu  I  infijnned 
bitD  they  were  the  wark  of  a  yonng  lady  in 

stare,  jU;  learned  tiieud  aerioualy  prc- 
teited  that  he  did  not  believe  uiy  young 
voman  in  Edinburgh  aas  capable  of  such 
Imes:  and  it  you  know  anything  of  Pro- 
fessor Gregory,  you  vill  neittier  doubt  of 
hia  abilitiea  iior  bid  aiucerity.  1  do  lave  you, 
if  poBaible,  still  better  ibr  having  so  line  a 
taate  Bud  turn  for  poesy.  I  haye  again  gone 
•roog  in  my  usual  unguarded  «ay,  but  you 
may  erase  the  word,  and  put  esteem,  reapeet, 
or  any  otlier  tame  Dutch  eipreaaion  you 


ITinutlg  amiabU,  fine  loom 
at  devoted  alave  I  have  n 


little  of  ths 
tender  nitchcraft  of  love,  and  add  it  to  Clie 
genemns,  the  honotnable  aeutimenCs  of 
manly  friendship ;  and  I  know  bat  one  more 
delighcful  morwl,  which  icvi^  few  in    any 


I  few  lines  I  composed  or 


it  give 


a  late  r 

above  five  or  six  copiei  of  it  at  all,  n 
would  be  hurt  if  any  Mend  alxonld  give  ttaj 
cnpiei  withoiit  my  conieut. 

You  cannot  imagine,  Clarinda  (I  like  the 
idea,  of  Arcadiau  names  iu  a  commerce  of 
thia  kind;,  how  much  suae  I  have  sec  by  the 
hopea  of  your  future  friendahip.  I  do  not 
' "' "" """'  ' '""  of  my  tharj- 


it  Inishyo 


I 


moat  peo[Je  of  my  trade  are.  a  i 
will-o'-msp    being;     tlie  victim,    too    fre- 
quently, 1^   much  imprudence    and    many 
nt  elements  are 


"les.    My  great  eons 

vuured  to  humauizi 
lour  1  the  Itat  make! 


inteKriCy  and 
le'otee  to  the 

igion,  or  friendship— either  of  Ihem,  or 
together,  as  1  happen  to  b«  inapired. 
ia  tme,  I  never  sai  you.  but  once ;  but 
w  mucii  acquaintance  did  I  form  with  you 
Chit  once  \  Uo  not  think  I  flatter  ymi, 
luve  a  design  upon  you,  Clarinda ;  1  hava 


'a  creatures  I  ever  could  approach  in 
with  the  deepest,  the    strongest. 


11,  and  how  ftr  I  can  promise  either  in 
r  prepoaacaaions  or  posers.  Why  are 
u  unluppj?  And  nhy  are  so  many  of 
r  fellow.crejiturea,  unworthy  to  belong  to 
;  same  species  with  you,  blest  with  all 
!y  tan  wish?  You  have  a  lisnd  all- 
uevolent  to  give;  why  are  yon  denied 
;  pleasure?    You  have  a  lieart  ibrmerf — 


Ho,t,db,  Google 


ly  formed— for  rfl  I 
of  love— Why  was 


TO  CLAEINDA 
le  most  reined 


where  the  lavish  hand  of  plent;  ehall 
minister  to  tbe  hiRhest  wish  of  benevolence ; 
end  where  the  ehill  north-wiud  of  prudence 
ghill  never  blow  over  the  Bon'ery  Gelda  of 


hours  thst  have  lii^red  over  i 
they  were  the  wi^ea  of  iny  lab 
what  unprovoked  demon,  maligiiar 


with  friends  whom  I  cBunnt  etijoy  ?  I  Looli 
hack  wjth  the  pong  of  unavaihng  avarice  on 
my  loaa  iu  not  koon'ing  yon  sooner :  all  lost 
winter,  these  three  mouths  past,  what  luiiiry 

though,  'twas  better  for  my  peace.  You  see 
I  am  either  ibove,  ot  iseapable  o(  disaimu- 
lacion.  1  believe  it  is  want  of  tliat  panicu- 
Jar  genius.  1  despise  design,  heotuse  1  want 
eitlier  coolness  or  wisdom  to  be  capable  uf  it. 
1  am iuieriupled.— Adieu!  my  i)e.ir  Claclndal 


TO  THE    SAME 


learued  that  I  despise 
my  ClariDda,  much  mi 


get  rid  of  ihem  ?   Tor 


icunatiiied  your  frieiid. 
nohle  Festus  1"  Have 
■.t  chnracler?  Do  we 
3r  eiehauge  faulta  than 


thoughtless  follies;  by  degrees  I  grow  sober, 
pmdeut,  and  slaUdly  pious — I  say  statedly, 
because  the  most  unaffected  devotion  is  not 
at  all  inconsistent  with  my  first  character-" 
I  join  the  world  in  CDn^tulating  myself  on 
the  happy  change.    But  let  me  pry  more 

torn,  any  thing  of  a  secret  pride  in  these 
endowmeDts  and  emendations? 
nothing  of  a  presbytarian  sourness,  i 
critical  seventy,  when  I  aurrey  my  u 
regular  neighbours  ?  In  >  word,  have  I 
missed  all  those  nameless  and  nnmberless 
modifications  of  indistinct  selfishness,  which 
are  so  near  our  own  eyes  that  «e  can  scarcely 
bring  them  within  the  sphere  of  our  vision, 
and  which  the  known  spotless  cambric  rf  our 
character  hides  from  the  ordinary  o^iserrer  ? 
My  deSuiCion of  worth  is  short;  truthsud 
humanity  reajiecliDg'  our  fellow-creatures; 
reverence  and  hamility  in  the  presence  of 
that  Beii^,  my  Creator  and  Firaerver,  and 
who,  I  have  every  reason  to  beUeve,  will  (me 
day  be  my  Judge.  The  first  part  of  my 
definition  is  the  creature  of  unbiassed  iit- 
stitict;  the  last  is  the  child  of  aflerreilection. 
Where  I  tomd  these  two  essentials,  I  would 
gently  note,  tuid  slightly  mention,  any  at- 


,  of  hum 


aisibihty  t 

hirly  if  a  little  in 


liter  into  tlie  aublime 
'  strong  imagiuMion  and 
LBt  derive  from  religion, 

...   ._  _ e  shade  of  niM. 

but  I  0  - 
m^ked  gruc^e,  see  Heaven  totally  engross 
so  atniabie,  so  charming,  a  woman  as  my 
friend  Clarmda;  and  should  be  very  weU 
pleased  at  a  circumslance  that  would  pnt  it 
iu  the  power  ofsomebody(]iappy  somebody!) 
to  divide  lujr  atMniion,  with  all  the  delicai^f 
and  leudemesa  of  an  eartbty  attachment. 

Yon  will  not  easily  persuade  me  that  yoa 
have  not  a  grammatical  knowledge  of  tbe 
English  language.  So  far  from  being  inac- 
curate,  you  aie  eloijuent  beyond  any  woman 
of  my  acquaintance,  escept  one,  whom  I  wish 


.e  that  I  have  got  an  ei^o 

lem  in  print  iu  tbe  Scots 
Fork  ^ihLishing  by  a  fiieni 


"lutical  Museum, 


a  work  piibLisI 

second,  and  have 


added  a  third 


Here  they  a 


,  Google 


COHUESPOfTUENGE  OP  BDENS. 


Ihe  first  staoia  to 
Sappho;  I  am  in T 

uld  hate  been 

worthy  of 

Talkuotoflo^ 
For  love  has 

Hehouudnie» 
Audnunkm 

deep  in  woe.' 

im. 

But  Friendship 
My  heart  wa 

There,  welcome 
BuC  nei-er  ta 

B  pure  and  laa 
formed  to  pro 
win,  and  weac 

k  of  love. 

ngjoja 
Zm  pri^e. 

Your  friendship  much  can  mit 
0  why  that  bliss  destroy ! 

e  me  blest, 

my-  ur~e  the 
Yon  know  I 

J] Oils  one  reqL 

[wdi] 

nust  deny. 

est. 

The  alteration  in  the  second  etania  is  no 
improvement,  but  thei-e  was  a  aligbl  iuaceu- 
rocj  ill  youc  cbyoie.    The  third  I  only  offer 
to  yout  dioice,  and  have  left  two  words  for 

of  Spey,'  and  i>  moat  hesutifld. 

To-morrow  evening   I    intend  taking  a 
chair,  and  piyln-  a  risit  at  Park  Place  to  a 

thing  on  my 
propose  giving  jou  the 
frieud  the  second,  and 
return  home.  Bo  not 
ineut  for  me,  aa  I  will  api 


first  call,  ray  old 
break  any  engoge- 


neacent  trifles,  compared 


imperfections  you  may  aeem  to  have,  e 

able  raillery.  Coarse  minds  ore  not  ew 
how  much  they  injure  the  keeidy  feeling 
of  bosomfriendship,  when,  iu  tbeii  fbolish 
olficiousiiess,  they  mention  what  nohody 
cues  for  recollecting;.  People  of  nice  sensi- 
ability  and  generous  minds  h&ve  a  certain  in- 
trinsic dignity  that    Area  at  being  trifled 

jiroached. 

Yon  ueel  make  no  apology  fticloti^ 
tera  ;  I  am  even  with  you.     Many  happy 
new  years  1o  yon,  eliarming  Claiinda !     I 

He  who  sees  you  as  I  have  done,  and  does 


IS  to  he  damu'd  file  his 
}  loves  you,  and  would 
^0  he  doubly  damii'd  for 


"(fht,  if  love  must  harbour  there. 


TO   TFIE    SAME. 


finc-ftaics  of  his  nonsense,  "It  is  i 
poetry,  hut  proae  riui  mail"  Did  I  e 
repeat  to  you  an  epigram  [  m  ' 


Martial,  a 
of  ElpUm! 

chant  of  my  acquainti 


TO  SIR.  ELPHINSTONE,  &c 
0  thou,  nhom  poesy  abhors  1 
Whom  prose  has  turned  out  of  doors  I 
Heard'st  thou  thatgronu?  proceed  no  further! 
Tnas  laurel'd  Martin  roaring  Murther. 

I  am  determined  to  aee  you,  it  at  all  poa. 
alble,  on  Saturday  evenhij.    Next  week  I 

The  nii'ht  ia  my  deparOng  night. 

The  mom's  the  day  I  maun  awa ; 
There's  neither  friend  not  foe  o'  mine. 


If  I  could  see  yon  sooner,  t  would  be  so 
mnch  the  happieri  but  I  would  not  purehaac 
the  dearest  gratification  on  earth,  if  it  mnat 
he  at  your  eipenSB  m  worldly  censure.  Sir 


,,  Google 


icrawHng  whole  sheets  of  ineohcrence.   T! 
only  unity  (>  sad  wotd  with  posts  and  ccitiu 
in  m;  ideas  is  Clarihda,    There  m;  hes 
"  iMgns  aud  revels." 
■Whnt  art  thon.  Love?  whence  are  tho 

That  thus  thon  besr'st  an  universal  ruli 
For  thee  the  soldier  quits  liia  arms. 

The  king  turns  slave,  the  wise  man  fool- 
In  Tiun  we  chase  thee  from  the  field. 

And  ffith  cool  thoughts  resist  thy  yoke 
Neit  tide  of  hlood,  alas!  we  yield  ; 

Andallthoaehi^  resolves  are  broker 


Tliejgi 


every  oc 


the  trouble  of  finding  expression  adequati 
to  one's  feelings.  I  think  it  is  one  of  th( 
greatest  pleaai 


&c.,  an  embodied  form 
finely  of  his  Muse :-~ 


ng  a  poetic  genJ 
oea,  cares,  joys,  loi 
in  verse,  which  to 
se.     Golds  «iitb  s 


liu  on  my  own  legs  to  dinner.    Il  is  only 
It  street — Adieu. 

Sylvan  DEB. 


TO    THE    SAME. 

Saturday  J\'oob,  Jaiaaiy  2Slh,  17S8. 

Some  days,  some  nights,  na;,  some  iimn, 

hie  the  "  t«i  ri"hteonB  persons  in  Sodom," 

able  months  and  years  of  life.    One  of  i 


e  with 


hours,  my  dear  Clariu 
jestetn%ht 

In  Each  a  tender  circumsiance  for  friends. 
Is  better  than  an  age  of  common  timel" 
Thouson. 
My  fevourite  feature  in  Milton's  Satan  ia 
bis  manly  fortitude  in  supporting  what  can- 
not he  remedied — iu  short,  the  wild  broken 
fi-agmeots  of  a  noble  eialted  mind  in  ruins. 
1  meant  no  more  by  saying  ha  was  a  favourite 

0  Vi. 


ARINDA.  30S 

truth,  every  word  of  it ;    and  will  give  you 
the  iust  idea  of  aman  whom  yon  nkve ban- 
friendship.    I  am  afraid  you 


n  joiit  ims^  II 


iiill  hardly  hi 

ciously,  as  I  gaze  o 

mind's  eye,  in  my  hearra  core;  iiiey  will  ne 
iu  time  enough  for  a  week  to  come,  I  am 
tnlly  happy  your  head-ache  is  better. — O, 
how  can  paia  or  evil  be  so  daringly,  unfeel- 
iuj-ly,  cruelly  savage  as  to  wound  so  noble  a 
mmd,  BO  lovely  i  form  t 

Sly  little  fellow  is  all  my  name-sake. — 
Write  me  soon.  My  every,  strongest  good 
wishes  attend  yon,  C'    '    '   ' 


Syiva 


pestered  with  people  ar 


TO  THE  SAME, 
fii/Brfoy  NiuM,  Jaanets  27lh,  1788. 
The  impertinence  of  fools  has  joined  with 
nothui^  to-day.      The  paper  hai 


n  before 


jlfonifDj  MoraiHj,  Jinaury  28tt,  1788, 
I  AM,  my  lovely  friend,  much  better  this 
mornii^  on  the  whole ;   lint  I  have  a  horrid 
Luigour  on  my  spirits. 

'■  Sick  of  the  world,  and  all  its  joys. 

My  soul  in  pining  8  ■ 
Dark  scenes  of  woe  m. 
The  past  and  preaei 


lind  employe 


Ho,t,db,  Google 


COERESrOXDESCE  OP  Bt"RXa 


Hiveyofl 

ever 

IMt  with  fl  saying 

of  the 

great,  atid 

te  good  Mr.  Locke, 

Sfthefomo 

3  E 

BtBnding? 

Hev 

rtoM  a  letter  to  a 

riend,' 

■ditecting  i 

to  be  delivered  till 

tfter 

ended  thus— "Ikii 

wjon 

kJed^me^vt 

bcnii 

ting,  and  nill  prese 
dead      Alltbeuse 

memory  nun  1  an 

'to^e 

aidaofU 

s,  that  thi.  life  affords  no  solid 

ASlJsfDctiOll, 

but 

ss   of 

iiavii,g  dob 

iv-cll 

mid  the  bouei  ofa 

nutlier 

Mb.    Adieu 

!  I  ka?e  my  best  nishe 

S»lth 

may  I  reclion  on  yonr  friendship 


Preserrer  of 

liithertfl  I  luve  too  much  neglected,  to  secure 

it,  shall  all  the  future  days  -    '    '  ■---    '  — 

life,  be  my  etesdy  care  I 

Clarinda  follows — 


^id  night«  of  my 
I'ha  a=a  of  my 


iconslancy,  the  coose- 
of    buniDU   weakness. 

.  friendship  that  defies 

jears  id  absence,  and  Che  chiuices  aud  clianges 
of  fortone  f  I^liaps  "  such  things  see ;" 
^fBa  'hontst  mau  1  have  great  hopes  from  that 
way :  but  who,  moept  a  romance  writer, 
•would  tliiuk  OB  a  lore  that  could  promise 


»Ufe,h 


id  change;    and 


ci)  resolve  I  dare, 


liopea  of 

say  to  myself  in  boti 

art  the  man '."  I  due, 

'der^are  myself  that  f 

If  womankiud  ii  capable  of  anch  things, 

Clarinda  is.    I  trust  that  she  is  j    ani)  fed  1 

ahatl  be  miserable  if  she  be  not.    There  is 

vot  one  virtue  nhidi  ^es  worth,  nor  one 

lentiiuent  which  does  honour  to  the  sex,  that 

she  does  not  possess,  superiorly  to  any  woman 

1  ever  saw :  her  exalted  miuil.  aided  a  little, 

perhaps,  by  her  situaUon,  is,  I  think,  capable 

of  tliai  nobly-roiuantic  loie-enthnuasm. 

May  1  see  you  on  Wednesday  eietiiiig,  my 
dear  angel  i  llie  ne^  Wednesday  again 
will,  I  CDDJectnre,  be  a  hated  day  to  us  both, 
I  tremble  for  cenaorioua  remark,  for  jour 
Bake;  but  in  eitraordioaiy  cases,  may  not 

pensedwith?  'ITiree  eveninifs,  three  swift- 
winged  ei'einngs,  with  piujOTlfl  of  down,  a^ 
all  the  past ;  1  dare  not  calculate  the  future. 

1  shall  call  at  Miss 's  to  morrow  evening; 

twill  be  a  tuewell  cell. 


thing  called  imagination ! 

ideas  almost  at  aU  of  another 

have  often  amused  myself  wilh  visionary 

schemes  of  what  haiipuiess  might  be  enjoyed 

by  small  alterations—ullerulions    tbat  wa 

eiialence.    Foe  tnslance,  suppose  yon  and  1, 
Just  as  WB  are  at  present ;  the  same  reason- 

foT  knoitli^dge  and 
inourmuids;  and 
imagine  ont  bodies  free  from  pain  and  the 
necessary  supplies  for  the  wants  of  nature 
at  all  times,  and  easily  withijt  our  reach ; 
imagine  fiirther,  ^t  we  were  set  free  from 
the  laws  of  gravitation,  wliieh  bind  us  to 
this  globe,  and  could  at  pleasure  fiy,  without 
incouvetuence,  through  all  the  yet  uncoii- 
jectiired  bounds  of  creation,  what  a  life  of 
bliss  would  we  lead,  in  our  mutual  punuit 
of  virtue  and  knowleilge,  and  our  mutual 
enjoyment  of  friendship  and  love  t 
1  see  you  laughing  at  my  fury  fandes,  and 

am  certain  1  would  be  a  h^py  ereatuie, 
beyond  any  tl  mg  w  e  call  bl  ss  1  ere  b  low 


flamm^g  u 


.s  by  us 


uTrey    g  1 
-  OB    ]   s( 


nld  mark  Che  passing  poup  ..  . 
veiling  mouarc  or  n  the  shady  bower  of 
j^lercury  or  Venus,  dedicating  the  lionr  to 
love,  m  mutual  converse,  relying  honour,  and 
revelling  eudeaiment,  whilst  the  most  eislted 
strains  of  poesy  and  harcooLy  would  be  tlie 
ready,  apontaneouB  language  of  our  souls ! 
Uevotiou  is  the  &vourite  employment  o( 
yourheacti  soicis  otmitiei  what  incentives 


tuith,  mid  hops,  in  all 


L-aies  me  destitute  of  pE 


I  of  ad 


Hosted  by  Google 


TO   CLARIND4. 


if  either  sex,  but  purHcolarfy  ths  female 
who  are  iukewsrm  in  that  most  importonl  o: 
■11  tilings,  "  O  my  soul,  eome  not  thou  int< 
thdr  secrets !"—!  fcel  myself  deeply  inter 
ested  in  your  good  opiniou,  and  «ill  li} 
before  you  the  outline)  of  my  belief.  Ht 
who  ia  our  Author  and  PreBetver,  and  wil 
one  day  he  onr  Judge,  mual  be  (not  tor  hi! 
cake  ill  the  way  of  duty,  hnt  from  the  natin 
impulse  of  our  hearts,)  the  obieet  of  oni 
retetential  awe  andgrati 
ia  Almighty  and  ell-bouul 
and   d^endent ;    lience 


>n:  He 


that  any  si 


Mofde 


-"  He  i 


aded,  actuated,  and 
it  heaven,  yet  is  ui 


cmdd  not,  in  ju 
did  not.  A  niii 
Eovetoed  by  f 
thongh  it  does  n 

enjoyed  j  aud,  by  divin 
mind  aliall  never  fail  oi  muumng  cier- 
lostuig  hfe;"  hence  the  impure,  the  deceiv- 
ing, uid  the  lUiehariCable  euilude  themselve) 
ttum  eternit  blisa,  by  their  nnlitnesB  foe 
enjoymg  it.    The  Supreme  Being  hss  put 

wise  diid  good  ends  known  to  himself,  mto 
the  hands  of  Jesus  Chiiit,  a  great  personage, 
uhose  rdatian  to  him  we  cannot  compre- 


TTiese  are  my  tenets,  my  luiely  frie] 
and  which,  1  think,  cannot  be  weli  di>pu< 
My  creed  in  pretty  nearly  eipresaed  in 
hiac  clause  of  Jamie  Dean's  grace,  an  hoi 
weaver  hi  Ayrshire:  "Lord,  giant  tliut 
may  lead  a  guid  life !  for  a  gmd  life  mat 


tell  me  you  h 
and  may  guef 


ve  fouud  in  my  packet.    Yoi 


"plunged  me  deep  ia  woe  I' 


of  agony  would 
thou  peiRdoDS,  en 


^1,  miachief-making  demon. 


taint   my  honour — I 
fould  not,  for  a  single  moment,  give  an 

voulil  shadow  the  faintest  outhne  of  a 
leltish  gratiHcation,  at  the  expense  of  her 
ihose  happiness  is  twiated  with  the  thieflds 

)f  mv  eiisteoce. May  bIib  be  aa  liappy 

vesl     And  if   my  tenderest. 


but  was  disa 
diaappoiuliDi 
two  hours'  1 


n  addti^ 


)ut  after  supper,  wit 
who  could  relish  u 
me  bat  the  port. 

itching  time  of  nigl 


't  look  0 


fou  are  by  this  thne  ftst  asleep,  Clarinda ; 
jr  good  angels  attend  and  guard  you 
constantly  and  faitiiftilly  as  my  good 


whether 


'Beam 
Shot  ferth  peculiar  graces 
John  Milton,  I  wish  thy  sold  bet 
ban  1  expect  on  my  piUow  lo-nigbl  1 
L  hitie  of  tile  cart-horse  part  {if 
laturel     Goud  iiiglr  ' 


issdoji  A'oun,  Jiuii 


•3  nil 


I  *>1  ifirlain  I  sairyou,  CUirinda;  1 
don't  look  to  the  proper  atorytot! 
lodging— 
"Where  speculation's  rooated  near  tt 

I  could  almost  have  thrown  raysi 
for  very  veialion.  Why  did'nC  yo 
higher?  TE  has  spoiled  my  peace  1 
day.    To  be  so  nea  '  "■ 


waa  searching  for 


Ho,t,db,  Google 


Yon  liave  converted  me,  Clarinda. 
shall  love  ihot  nBnie  while  Hive:  there 
heavenly  music  in  it.    Booth  and  dmeliB 

Bubjeet,  as  they  are  on  every  subject,  are 
just  and  noble.  "  To  he  feelingly  aliva  lo 
kuidneaa  and  to  nnhmduess,"  ia  a  chBIming 
female  character. 

Whflt  I  said  in  my  la5t  letter,  the  p 

youia.  I  underBUnd  my  good  star  hsa  been 
partly  in  my  hotisoo,  when  I  got  »ild  in  m; 

almost  all  my  life  slied  its  baueful  niyt  oi 
roy  devoted  bead,  heen.  aa  usual,  in  m; 
Eenith,  I  had  certainly  blabbed  aometbiuj 
tliat  would  have  pointed  out  to  you  the  dca 
object  of  my  teiiderest  ftiendship.  aad,  it 
•pite  of  me,  something  more.  Had  Iha 
&tD]  information  escaped  me,  and  it  wa: 
merely  chance,  or  kind  elara,  that  it  did  uot 
I  had  been  nndone !  Yon  wonld  never  havi 
written  me,  except  perhaps  once  more !  O 
1  could  curse  i^rcumstances,  and  the  coarsi 
tie  of  human  laws,  which  keep  fiist  wba 


which  otherwise  Lo  e  a  i  Honour  n 
warrant!  But  hold— I  shall  make  no 
"  hair  breadLh  'scapes 


I  told  yuu  I  had  but  one  ma  t 
third,  but  she    s  surrounded  by 


CORRESPONDENCE  OF  BUENS. 

break  with  me,  don't 

I  fondly  love,  or  higl 

ar  reproach. 

ice  thyaelf"  is  a  sacr 


Miss  N can  tell  1 0 

is  worthy  of  a  place 

my  Ctannda.    That    s 

ment  I  can  pay  her. 

Farewell,  Clatuida 


Ihlardnf/  ilomiiu/,  Jamary  I9th,  1788. 
YoDB    thoughts    on   religion,   Clarinda 

me,  vhen  I  say  'tis  also  my  favourite  topic: 
hut  mine  ia  the  religion  of  tlie  bosonL  J 
hate  the  very  idea  of  a  contravereial  divinity ; 
as  I  firmly  believe  thai  every  honest  uprigii 


Lord  Bolingbroke'a  saying  to  Swift;— 
"  Adieu,  dear  Swift,  vith  all  thy  Ihntts  I  love 
tbes  entirely ;  make  an  effort  to  love  ma 
with  all  muie."  A  glorious  senthnent,  aiul 
without  u'liich  there  can  he  no  friendship  I 
I  do  highly,  very  liighly  esteem  you  indeed, 
Clariuda—you  merit  it  all  1  Perhaps,  too — 
I  scorn  dissimulation! — I  could  fondiy  love 
you :  judge  then,  what  n  maddening  si 


"O!  Ih! 
_  ™r'— With  what 
lUte  would  I  meet  you  to-day,  but  I 
ot  walk  to  meet  the  fly.  I  hope  to  be 
lo  see  you  on  /uol  about  the  middle  of 

interrupted— perliaps  you  are  not 
smile  of  apfirobati 


>  Ileal 


irryft 


ir  look  of  kmd- 


wellso 


TO  MI^  DUNLOF. 
Edinbargk,  Jmxtar^   21irf,  )7B3. 
AciEJi  sii  nceka' confinement  1  am  be- 


I  have  a  hundred  Hmes  wished  that  on 
could  resign  hfc  as  an  oBieer  [esigns  a  com 
mission :  for  1  would  not  take  in  any  pool 
ignorant  wretch,  by  selling  out  Lately 
was  a  aiKpenny  private,  and,  God  knows, 
miserable  soldier  enough ;  now  1  march  t 
the  campaign,  a  starving  cadet — a  little  mot 
ciHispicnoualy  wretched. 


tliis ;  for  though  I  do 
lue  warfare  of  life,  1  could 
other  soldiers,  to  have  as 


Ho,t,db,  Google 


TO  CLAEINDA 


Btck,  IleaveEdinbiireli;  and  auon  sfKr 

shall  pa;  my  gtateful  iSitj  at  Dunbp-Ilou! 

B.  B. 


TO 

CLARINDA, 

TuiadBS  Dlondng,  JomiBiy  29(J 
I  CANNOT  go  out  to-d»y,  ray  deo 
mda,  wilhout  seiiduig;  you  half  a 
way  ofasiu-offeting;  but,  believe  re 
tbe  siti  of  !)rnoiance.     Could  you  tl 
1  wfrarferf  to  h„rt  you  by  any  thin 
yeaceruight?    Kature  haa  been  too 

of  idea!,  my  Bentiments  of  lore  end  fHend- 
ship,  X  oext  devote  myself  to  yon.  Yesterday 
nijht  I  was  happy— happiness  "that  tbe 
world  cannot  give." — I  kindle  at  the  reeol- 


sensibility.— O  why  thouhl 
qnaliflcations  be  the  fruitful 
Tou  have  "murdered  sleep"  t 


such  glorious 
ource  of  woe  1 
melastniv'ht. 
I  an  ideit  that 


(ItnoBt  be  persuaded  you  were  not  nell  this 

morning. 

"  K I  unwittingly  hareoffended. 


Impute  it 

not" 

-, 

'But  wh 

lew 

Uve, 

But  ones 

pet 

^aps? 

™  us  two 

Let  there 

be  peace 

If  Mar 

e  by 

he 

ime  this 

pliraenla. 

Shei9y< 

arming  girl, 

nd'w 

b™ 

WMf  thy  of 

the  noblest  lore. 

t  send 

you  a  po, 

m  t 

oread 

till  I  call  on 

ynu  this  night,  which  will  be  about  nine.  I 
wish  I  could  procure  some  potent  spell,  some 
fairy  charm  that  n-ould  protect  injury,  or 
restore  to  rest  that  bosom-choid,  "trem- 
Llmgly  aliee  all  o'er,"  on  which  hangs  your 
peace  of  mind.  I  thought,  vainly,  I  ftar, 
thought  that  the  devotion  of  lore^love 
airong  an  even  you  can  feel — Inva  guarded, 
iuTuluerahly  guarded,  by  all  the  purity  of 
virtue,  and  all  the  pride  of  liououtj  1  Wiought 
(uch  1  Inve  would  make  you  happy — vrill  I 
be  tnistaten  P    I  cam  no  more  loi:  huiry  • 


looks 

mihng  on,  an 
guard.— Your 

dhon 

our  stands  by  a 

sacred 

heart,  your   fondest 

tbo. 

ghts,  these  ara 

perso 

nisunapproach- 

able  by 

the  laws  nf 

Muiitry;  and  he 

loves  n 

t  as  1  do  who 

wouh 

make  you  rnise- 

rable- 

You 

are  an  aofrel 

Cla 

surely 

0  mortal  that 

"the 

To  kias 

n  yout  smile,  is 

tomef 

lebh. 

s  that  tbe  dear- 

est  favours  that  the  f 

fthesex.yoiii- 

self  excepted, can  best 

ow. 

^nda^  Eeemng. 

You 

are  the  constant  Co 

mpanion  of  my 

bought 

.    How  wretched 

s  the  condition 

of  one  w 

ho  is  hnnuted 

conscious  guilt. 

and  trei 

nbling  under 

the 

dea  of  dr^ded 

eugeance 1    and  what 

a  pladd  calm,  what  a 

rniing  secret  enjoyment  it  gives,  to  bosom 
kind  feeUugs  of  ftiaud^ip,  and  the  fond 
lea  of  love  1  Out  upon  the  tempest  of 
cr,  the  acrimonious  gallof  fitl/ul  impa- 
lee,  the  sullen  frost  of  louring  resentment, 
he  corroding-  poison  of  withered  envy! 
■  immortal  part  of  man  1  If 
ley  speni  iiieif  fury  only  on  the  unfortunate 
ijects  of  them,  it  would  be  something  in  theic 
tour;  but  these  miserable  passions,  hka 

Thou  Almighty  Authot  of  peace,  and 
goodness,  and  love  l  do  tliou  give  me  the 
loclat  heart  that  kindly  tastes  of  eiery  man's 
:up! — la  it  a  draught  of  Joy? — warm  and 

vying  i^oicmg  I  Is  it  the  bitter  potion  of 
P— melt  my  heart  witli  sincerely  sym- 
cwoel  Above  all,  do  thou  give  me 
nly  mind  that  resolntely  eiempli&es. 
ind  manners,  those  seutimenta  which 
d  wish  to  be  thought  to  possess! 

ITie  liiend  of  my  soid— thKe,  may  I  never 

deviate  from  the  Rrmcsl  fidelity  and  most 
kindness  I  Chu:inda,  the  dear  object 
'  fondest  love;  there  may  the  most 
,  inviolate  honour,  the  most  &ithfal 

bindliog  constancy,  c 


TO  THE  SAStE. 


ly  every  1 
Did  — 


ought  and  imagination 


Sunday  Moraixg,  Fehruftrg  Srd,  1788.      |  « ij,-,  (j;, 

I  HAVE  just  been  before  the  throne  of  my  ing  bright ! 

God,  Clatiuda ;   according  to  my  association  I  'Tia  tha  tint  gilt 


ith  the  fotlowh 
that  streaks  oi 


Did  you  ever  meet  with  the  following 
Unes  spoken  of  Religion,  your  darling  topic  ? 


.  the  horrors  of  our  n%ht  i 


Ho,t,db,  Google 


810  corhespohdence  of  buens. 

When  wealth  forsalics  ns,  nud  aben  Menda    i 

»«few,  [pi 

Wli™  frienda  are  faithleaa,  or  wtiBi 


thill  liie  breast  bida  purest  rapture  A  . 
s  Hniliog  Cooscieuce  spread  liet  ctoud- 


ijfon; 


TO  THE  SAME. 

(I  never  do  thiiiga'bj  lialiEs)  ivhei 

your  card,    M goes  out  of  t 

mom™  morning  to  see  a  brotbet  of  I 

is  uenly  arrived  from .    I  am 

mined  that  he  and  I  shall  call  ou  ; 
^ther;  bo,  look  you,  lest  1  ehouM  u 
'.  we  nil!  call  o 


-  and  J 


a  til)  at 


ight! 


atwhicbtime.! 
'an  tlie  hcast  be  to  the  fore,  an  the  "brauka 
bide  hale/.e:rpect  the  humbleat  of  yout  humble 
servants,  and  hia  dearest  ^entL  We  propose 
itaying  only  half  au  hour,  *fur  ougl;" 


mouths  in  the  yea 


e  lash  0 


L   her   gifJ  merely 

>  fool  heart  nill 
I  was  viun  enough 

)  has  a  great  deal 
given  the  coqnet- 

leiice,  whose  equal, 

doing  so  again  ;  you  luve  cast  her  rather  in 
tlie  shades  of  life ;  there  is  a  certain  poet  of 
making;    among  your  frolica  it  would 
be  smiis  to  aitaeh  him  to  ihia  master- 
piece of  my  band,  to  give  her  that  immortality 
.    among  miUikiud  which  no  woman  of  any 
^  more  deserved,    and    which    few 
ers  of   thia  age  are  better  able  to 

Ecemiia,  9  o'clock. 
I  here,  sttaolutely  unfit  to  finish  my 
pretty  hearty  after  a  howl,  which  haj 

t.      I  have  been  with  Mr.  Schetki, 

the  musician,  and  he  has  set  it  (62)  finely. 

of  anythmg, 


TO  THE  SAME. 
Tttaiiiay  JUbniijij,  Fetnioi^  7(*,  1' 
"L-nlaviah  Wisdom 


Ling  my  re 


10  for  1 


11,  Clarinda, 


ength  of  mind,  getierous  sin- 
cerity of  soul,  and  the  aweeteat  female 
tenderness,  ia  without  s  peer,  and  whose 
personal  charma  hare  tew,  very,  very  few 
parallels  among  her  aei ;  why,  or  how  she 
chould  Gill  to  the  lilessed  lot  of  a  poor 
liarum  scarum  puot,  whom  Fortune  bad 
kept  for  her  particular  uae,  to  wreak  her 


TO  Tllli  SAMT!. 
Saturday  Morning,  Fehrmry  SIh,  1788. 
There  is  no  time,  my  Clarinda,  when 
le  conseioua  thrilling  chorda  of  Leva  and 
i'iendship  give  such  delight  as  in  the  pen- 

calls  "Philosophic  Mehincholy."  The  sportive 
inaects  who  bask  in  the  sunshine  of  prospe- 

anud  thar  ample  wealth  of  earth — they  need 

no  Clarindai  they  would  despise  Sylvander 

it  they  durat.    The  family  of  Miafortnne, 

lumeroua  group  of  brotliers  and  sisters  \ 

tliey  need  a  reatiug-place  to  their  souls: 

Qticed,  often  coudemned  bytUe  world; 


Ho,t,db,  Google 


TO  CLARINDA. 


311 


Sy 


Bislit-' 


:   stieeks   ova 
e  honora  of  our 


™ing  taking  *  pmp 
througli,  US  Young  finely  aays, "  the  dark 
posceiD  of  time  long  elaps'd ; "  and,  you 
njll  euily  ^uess,  'taas  a  rueful  prospect. 
What  H  tissue  of  tlioughtlessnesa,  ireakness, 
and  folly !  My  life  reminded  mB  of  a 
ruined  temple ;  what  strength,  what  pro- 
portion in  some  parts !  what  unsightly  gi^ia, 
vhat  prostrate  mins  in  others  1  I  kneeled 
down  before  the  Father  of  mercies,  and  said, 
"  Father,  I  have  sinned  against  Heaven,  and 
in  thy  sight,  and  am  no  more  worthy  to  be 

called  tby  aonl" 1   rose,    eased    and 

■crengthenedr  I  despise  the  superstition 
of  a  fiuiatic,  but  I  love  the  rehgion  of  a 
man.  "ITie  future,"  sad  I  to  myself,  "is 
Winbefoi       -    """ - 


re  let  me 


-"On  re 


That  eolnn 


oftr 


jesty  in 


or  ia  whatever  utuation  I  may  be — 

' 'Tis  nought  to  me : 

Snce  God  ia  ever  present,  ever  felt, 
Id  the  void  waste  as  in  the  city  full ; 
And  where  He  vital  breathes,  there  must  hi 
joy  1 " 

Salardag  Night— Mf-nfler  Ten. 
What  lusury  nf  bliss  I  was  enjoying  tliii 
time  yealCT-night !  My  ever-dearest  Cla 
linda,  you  have  stolen  away  my  soul :  biH 
you  have  reluied,  you  have  eiolted  it :  yoij 
have  given  it  a  stronger  sense  of  virlue,  anii 
a  stronger  relish  for  piety. — Clarinda,  Rnl 
of  your  sei,  if  ever  I  am  the  veriest  wretcl 
on  earth  to  forget  you ;  if  ever  jout  lovelj 
image  i^  eSSced  ^m  my  eout, 

"May  I  be  loat,  no  eye  to  weep  my  end; 
And  lind  no  earth  that's  base  enough  ti 


What  trifling  silliness  is  the  childish  fond, 
ness  of  the  every.day  children  of  the  world  1 
'tis  the  unmeaning  toying  of  the  younglinga 
of  the  Holds  and  forests :  but  nhere  Senti- 
ment  mnl  Fancy  unite  theu  sweets ,  where 
Taste  and  Delicacy  refine ;  where  Wit  adda 
the  Savour,  and  Goodness  gives  strength 
and  spirit  tn  all,  what  a  delicious  dni^t  is 
the  hour  of  tender  endearment! — Beao^ 
and  Grace,  in  (he  arma  of  'IVnth  and  Honour, 
in  all  the  luxury  of  mutual  love. 

feeji  the  pictoia 


realised?    Mot  in  all  its  very  ric 

beat  colour- 

'"ta 

night, 

Clarinda,  but  fot 

oue  sJiglit 

glorioua  picture. 

— Innocence 

Look'd 

r^ 

oiling  on;  while  rosy  Fleasnn 

Hidyo 

lire  amid  her  flowery  wreath. 

Andp 

S  h 

mantUng 

The's 
Bliss 

,«.. 

heavenly  vintage 

Love  and 

Clnr 

nda,  « 

lien  a  poet  and 

poeteas  of 

Nature 

a  mak 

■e's  noblest 

tions  I— «'hen  they  drink 

ti^ether  of 

ne  cup 

of  Love  and  Bl 

!S,  attempt 

not    ye    mar 

er   ataSa  of  hum 

lan    natutt. 

ly  to  n 

easure  enioymen 

e^k^ 

w!— Goodnight,  my  dec 

aariS 

SiLVAHDKB. 

TO  THE  SAME. 


ite  this.    Do  not 
e  to  love  yon,  to 


wish  to  see  me,  to  correspond  with 
and  you  have  them ;  I  must  love, 
i,    mourn,    and    adore    in    secret — this 


Dear 
ear 

as  the  1 

ght  that  visits  these  sad  eyes, 
ruddy  drops  that  warm  mj 

Ih 

venot 

atiencetoreadthepuritanio 
uphistrjl— Ye  heavens!  thou 

od( 

nature 

thou  Redeemer  of  mankind! 

k  dowi 

with  approving  ejea  ou  » 

Ho,t,db,  Google 


CORRESPONDENCE  OF  BURNS. 


paanon  inspired  b;  the  purest  Bame,  and 
guarded  by  truth,  aetiescy,  and  honour ;  bat 
thelialf-iDch3iiu1ofannn[eeling,<»ld-blaodea 
^tiful,  preabyterian  bigo!  cannot  forgive  any 
titinff  ^M>v«  hia  dui^ou  boaom  and  fog^ 

Farewell;    I'll    be  with  you   to-morrow 

wU  be  yours  in  the  way  you  think  moat  to 
your  hippineBs  I  I  dare  not  proceed — I 
love,  snd  «ill  love  you,  siid  wiQ  with  joyous 
confidence  approach  the  throne  of  the  Al- 
mighty Jud^  of  men,  vith  your  dear  idea, 
and  will  despiae  the  seam  of  sentiment,  and 
the  mist  of  sophistry. 


what  did  I  SI 


ia  the  dark  tlian  ever.  O  Claiindii.  why  will 
you  wound  ray  eoul,  hy  hinting  that  laat 

heaceiiea  with 
A.  bosom  gloB'- 

ennobled  by  senius,  mtbrmed  and  refined  by 
education  and  reQection,  and  e^^alted  hy  na- 
tive reli^oD,  genuine  as  in  the  climes  of 
heaven ;  a  heart  formed  for  all  the  glorious 
m^ngs  of  fricndsllip,  love  and  pity.  ITiese 
1  saw, — I  saw  the  noblest  immortal  soul 

I  looked  Uing,  my  dear  Clarinda,  fbr  your 

ing.  I  luice  not  caught  you  so  far  wron);  as 
in  your  idea,  that  the  commerce  you  have 
with  one  friend  hurts  you,  if  you  cannot  tell 
every  tittle  o(  it  to  axolher.  Why  have  you 
-0  injuti     -    -   - '-•-       -'  -    ■■-■•    "    ■ 


Clarinda,  BS  to  think  that  Fr 

endship  and 

n  the  sacred  inviolate 

.rincipL  of 

Truth. 

Honour,  and  Religion, 

thing^ 

Ise  than  au  object   of 

His  diviue 

my  former 

Saturday  evening  neit 

Do  allow 

g.    Oh,  my 

sngetl 

how  soon  must  we  part 

and  »l,fn 

meet  again  1  Hooked  fo 

ward  on  the 

horrid 

interval  with  tearful  e 

eal     What 

have! 

lost  by  not  knowmg  yo 

sooner  I   I 

short  t^  make  that  Itatiag  impreaBion  t^ 
your  heart  I  could  wish. 

8tI.VANDEB. 


TO   THE   8A.MB. 
distressed  fur  ttiee,  my   brother 


]!od  forgave  mel  But,  Clarinda,  be  com* 
orted :  let  us  raise  the  tone  of  our  feelings 
.  little  higher  and  holder.    A  felluw-CTeature 


with  a  little  hones 
shall  1  comfort  yoi 
mjury?    Cenlw' 


tatner  or  mercies !  against  Thee  often 
have  I  sinned;  through  Tiiy  grace  I  ivill  en- 
deavour to  do  so  no  more !  She  who,  Thou 
knoweat,  is  dearer  to  me  thaii  myself,  jjour 
Thou  the  bdm  of  peace  into  her  pait  wounds, 
and  hedge  her  about  with  'J'liy  peculiar  care, 
.alt  lier  future  days  and  nights  1  Sti-engthen 
her  tender  uoble  muid,  tinaly  to  suffer,  and 
magnanimously  to  hear  I    Alake  me  worthy 


of  t' 


t  trie 


to  her  he  pore  aa  devo- 
'    nortal   lifel      O 


Alay  my  attachmi 

Alio^hiy  Gooducss,  hear  r 
all  times,  particularly  in  tlic  nour  ui  uiatresi 
or  trial,  a  IViend  and  Comforter,  a  auidi 
and  Guard. 

"  How  are  Thy  servants  bleat,  O  Lord, 


Forgive  me,  Clarinda,  the  injury  I  have 
done  voii!  To-night  1  shall  be  mih  jou; 
as  indeed  I  shall  be  ill  at  ease  till  I  s<»^  }  uu. 

Sil.VANUi,ii. 


TO   THE    SAJtB. 


Hosted  by  Google 


TO  EOBERT  GEAHAM,  ESQ. 
13!  then  aeriously  heai 


ear'  •  ♦  •;  by  fu  the  lirat  of 'womau- 
ind,  at  least  lo  me ;  I  esteemed,  I  loved 
ou  at  dr£t  sight,  the  longer  I  am  acqu^iited 
ith  ;ou,  the  more  intiate  nmiableiiess  and 
'orth  I  discover  in  you.— 7Y0U  have  sufFeted 
toss,  I  eonfeas.  for  my  sake:    hot  if  ths 

very  endeavour  to  be  worthy  of  your  ttiead- 

ud'  holy  as  the  dutL  of  religion— if  all 
ncse  can  make  anything  bke  a  compensation 
tt  the  evil  I  have  occasioned  you,  if  they 
e  wiHth  your  acceptance,  or  can  in  the  leut 
dd  to  yout  eiijoynieiits — so  help  Sylvaiider, 

'ecly  gives  these  alt  to  Clorinda  I 
I  esteem  you,  I  love  you  >3  a  friend ;  I 
dinire  you,  I  love  you  as  t  woman,  beyond 
oy  one  m  all  the  drcle  of  creation ;  I  know 


—"Let  thy  soul  sp 


d  for  help  on  him  that 


I  am  yours,  Clariodj,  for  life.  Never  be 
discouraged  at  all  tliis.  Iiwk  forvaid ;  in  a 
few  weeks  I  shall  be  somewhere  or  other  out 
of  the  possibility  of  seeing  you  ;  till  then,  I 
shall  write  you  often,  but  visit  you  seldom. 
Your  fame,  your  welfare,  your  happiness,  are 
dearer  to  me  than  any  gratiGcation  whatever. 
Be  comfbrled,  my  lore !  the  pi«seut  moment 
is  the  worst:  the  leiuent  hand  of  IHmeis 
daily  and  hourly  either  Lghtening  the  burden, 
or    making  us    insensible  to  tlie    waght. 

None  of  these  friends,  I  mean  Mr. 

and  the  other  gentleman,  can  hurt  your 
worUly  support,  and  for  their  friendship,  in 
a  little  time  you  will  learn  to  be  easy,  and, 
by  and  bye,  to  be  happy  without  it.  A 
decent  means  of  hvelibood  in  the  world,  an 
approving  Ood,  a  peaceful  conscience,  and 
one  Htm,  trusty  friend— can  anybody  that 
has  these  be  said  to  be  unhappy  9  These 
are  jours. 

To-morrow  evening  I  shall  be  with  yon 
sbont  eight;  probably  for  the  last  lime  rill  I 
return  to  Edmbui^h.  In  the  meaatime, 
should  any  of  these  two  io>lv,e}ty  friends 


TO  MES.  DUNr/)P. 
Ediiiiarrji,  Febmary  VUh, 


TO   CLARINDA. 


That  column  of  true  majesty  in  man." 


Fehttmy,  1788. 
5iR, — When  I  had  the  honour  of  bwng 
itrwluced  to  youatAthole  House,  [  did  not 
think  so  soon  of  asking  a  fiivour  of  you. 
n  Lear,  in  Shakespeare,  asked  old  Kent 
why  he  wished  to  be  in  bis  service,  lie 
ansivers^— "Because  you  have  that  in  yonc 
face  which  1  would  f^  caU  master.^  For 
some  such  reason,  Sr,  do  I  now  solicit  your 
patronage.  You  tnow,  I  dare  say.  of  an 
application  I  lately  made  lo  your  Hoard  to 
be  admitted  an  officer  of  Esciae.  I  have, 
accoiduigta  form,  been  eiamined  by  B  super 


Ho,t,db,  Google 


COHRESPONDENCE  OP  1 


Ti:or,  End  Co-dBf  I  g& 

eiohiacer 

ficBle,with 

.ra|u«t  fot«i  ord 

r  for  iustn 

etions.    In 

this  affair,  if  1  suoMed,  1  am  a 

raid  I  ihall 

but   too  much  need 

a  patroni 

ing  friend. 

Propriety  of  condnct 

andfiddity 

eugigefor; 

but  with  aiiy  thing 

like  hnsin 

ess,  except 

1  h»d  intended  to 

have  dosed 

my  Ute  ap- 

peiirance  on  tbe  st^ 

of  life  in  the  character 

of  a  country  fanner; 

bat  after  discharging 

aomeliliidiuidfraten 

a!  claims,  I 

find  I  could 

only  fight  for  enatencB  in  th 

t  miserable 

muiner,  which  I  hav 

e  lived  to 

tee  throw  a 

o  the  jaws 

of  a  jail,- 

whence  death,  tlie  po 

ormmi-shu 

t  end  often 

best  friend,  reamed  h 

I  Liiow,  Sir,  that 

Tneed  you 

ia  to  have  a  daim  c 

o  it ;  may 

beg  your  patronage 

U,  forward 

me  h>  this 

atfair,  till  1  he  app 

inted  to 

division— 

where,  hy  the  help  o 

ri^deco 

omy,  I  will 

try  to  support  that  i 

dependenc 

BO  dear  to 

my  loul,  but  which 

11.3  been  t 

0  oflen  so 

TO  TOE  EEV.  JOHN   StONNER,  {6: 
EdinbuTsi,  Felawtrg,  litA,  1788. 
Bbtbrenh    and    Dear  Sib — I  hai 
been  a  cripple  now  near  three  months,  though 


beg  you 


very  n 

)  e^stle  you  sent 
in  the  Magazine,  I  had  given  a  copy  or  two 
to  some  of  my  intimale  friends,  but  did  not 
know  of  the  printiug  of  it  till  the  pubbcution 
of  tbe  Magosi 


The 


youi 


ill  hip 


ond  volume  of  the  Songs  I  m 


accept  ai  a  mark  of  the  veneration  I  ha 
long  had.  Bud  shall  ever  have,  for  your  ch 
racier,  and  of  the  claim  I  make  to  your  co 
tinned  acquaintance.  Your  songs  appear 
the  Cllird  volume,  with  your  name  in  t' . . 
iadei;  as  I  assure  you.  Sir,  I  have  beard 
your  ^  TuUocbgotum,'^  particularly  among 

ent  names,  and  most  commonly  Co  the  im- 
mortal   author  of   "The    Minstrel,"  wlio, 

"Giie  a  sang,  Moutgoroety  cried,"      Your 
brother  has  promised  me  your  verses  (     ' 


Marquis  of  Huntly'a  reel,  whidi  certainly 
deserve  a  place  in  the  collailion.  My  kind 
host,  Mr.  Cruikshauli,  of  the  high-School 
here,  and  said  to  be  one  of  the  best  Latin) 
in  this  age,  begs  me  to  make  you  his  grate- 
ful acknowledgments  for  the  entertainment 
he  has  got  in  a  Latin  pubhcsCion  of  yours 
that  1  borrowed  for  him  from  your  acquamf- 
aiice  aud  much  respected  friend  ul  thb  place, 
tbe  Reverend  Dr.  Webslsr.  (61)  Mr.  Cmik. 
sliank  maintmna  that  you  write  tbe  best 
latin  snicB  Buchanan.  I  leave  EdiBbiu^h 
to-morrow,  but  shall  return  in  three  weeks. 
Your  song  you  mentioned  in  your  last,  to 

other,  which  yon  say  was  done  by  a  brother 
in  trade  of  mine,  a  ploughman,  I  shall  thank 

Sir,  with  the  most  respeellU  esteem  and 


TO  EICHAItD  BHOWN. 
Ediabargh,  Februari/  I5th,  1783. 
My  Deak  Phiend— I  received  yours 
with  the  greatest  pl&isurQ.  1  shall  arrive  aC 
Giaspw  on  Monday  evening;  and  beg,  i( 
possible,  you  will  meet  me  on  Toesdaj.  I 
shall  wait  yon  Tnesday  dl  day.  I  shall  be 
found  at  Davies's  Black  Bull  inn.  1  am 
hurried,  as  if  hunted  hy  fifty  devils,  else  I 
should  go  to  Qreenock ;  but  if  you  cannot 
possibly  come,  write    me,   if   possible,  to 

Mossgid  by  Maachlioe;  and  nauie  a  day 
and  place  in  Ayrshire,  within  a  fortnight 
from  this  date,  where  I  may  meet  you,  1 
only  stay  a  fortnight  in  .Ayrshire,  and  return 


TO  MRS.  EOSB,  OP  KILRAVOCK. 
Ediitmrgk,  February  ntk,  1783. 
Madam — You    are    much    indebted    to 

my  hands,  otherwise  my  gratitude  threatened 
such  a  return  for  your  obliging  favour  as 
would  have  tired  your  patience.  It  buC 
poorly  expresses  ray  feelings  to  say,  that  I 

ami  of  hearta  aiu^  as  yours  is,  and  sudl,  I 


Ho,t,db,  Google 


TO  MISS  CilALMEES. 


hope,    mine   is,    rancti    moie   justly    tba 


I  couW  ttansoribe,  or  raiher  trainfose  in 
l&ngu^e^  the  glow  of  mj  heart  wheu  I  re: 
your  letter.  My  ready  fancy,  with  colon 
more  mellow  than  hfe  itself,  painted  tl 
beautifully  wild  scenery  of  Kiltavock;    tl 


walk  St  the  bottom  of  the  garden ;  your  lute 
distressful  antiettea;  your  present  enjoy- 
ments i  your  dear  little  angol,  the  pride  of 


y    own    iinm 

rtality. 

the  north,  as  ] 

obably 

see  your  bo 

piluble 

twenty  years 

hence, 

king* 

paper  psragraph,  my 

h  pleasure. 

some  fe*  Highland  airs  whicl 
known,  though  tar,  tar  inferior 


to  be  lemembered  most  respectfully 
venerable  friend,  and  to  your  little 
id  chieftsin.  When  yoa  see  the 
rair  spirits  of  the  hill,"  at  KU- 
e  (65),  t^  them  that  I  bale  done 
Jie  honour  of  setting  myself  down  as 
their  admirers  for  At  least  twenty 
I  come,  consequently  they  muat  look 
Le  aa  an  actjoaintance  far  the  san:Le 


,e  Aposl 


says,  "th 


TO  CLARINDA. 


K  attraciion  of  love,  I  find,  is  in  an  fa- 
proportion  to  the  attraction  of  the 
onian  philosophy.    In  the  system  of 


rinda,  awakened  a  keenn 
t  to  her. 

How  do  you  feel,  ray  love  ?  Is  your  heart 
ill  at  ease?  I  fear  it.— God  forbid  that 
these  persecutors  should  harass  that  peaca 
which  is  more  precious  to  me  than  my  own, 
think  of  you,  muse 


—"When  I  foi^et  the  darling  theme, 

Be  my  tongue  mute !    my  ^rtcy  paint  no 

And,  dead  V>  joy,  forget  my  heart  to  beat  t" 
I  have  Just  met  with  my  old  friend,  tbs 
ship  captain ;  guess  my  pleasurs  [—to  meet 
yon  coald  alone  have  given  me  more  My 
brother  William,  too,  the  yoimg  saddler,  has 
come  to  Glasgow  to  meet  me ;  and  here  are 
we  three  spending  tlie  ev 
I  arrived  here  too  lat 
but  I'll  wrap  half  a  doi 
paper  together,  and  send 
tbe  name  of  a  parcel.    1 


te  hy  post ; 
its  of  blank 


Silvan  DEB. 


SS  CHALMERS. 
(iniurjjS,  February,  1738. 


ly  brother  and  {he  i 
■A  I  could  not  vent 
atyla  suitabht  to 


Hosted  by  Google 


nest  step 
the  Esdi 


CORRESPOKDENCE  OF  BURNS. 

The  present  mo 

The  aeit  we  ue 

How  like  yon  my 


'ou  will  condemn  mc  for  the 
ove  taken.  I  have  entered  into 
I  stay  in  the  west  about  three 
veeES,  ana  then  return  to  Eilinbiltgh  for 
Eii  weeks'  instmetiona ;  afterwards,  for  I 
get  employ  fiislantly,  I  go  deI  i£  plait  &  Diett 
— el  won  JEot.  I  have  ehosen  this,  my  deur 
friend,  after  matnie  deUherntion.    The  qnes- 

Ehall  WB  enter  in,  but  what  doors  does  she 
open  to  us !    1  was  not  likely  to  get  any 

dan^oua,  an  iinba^py  eituatioo.  I  got  this 
without  »ny  hanging  on,  or  mortifyit^  soli- 
citatiou ;  it  is  immediate  bread,  and  though 


TO  MISa  CHAIAIEKS. 


of  them  my  firm  friends. 


TO  RICHARD  BKOWN. 
M,issgie!,  Febnuiry  iilh,  1788. 
Mv  Dear  Sir— I  cannot  get  the  prope 
direction  for  my  Mend  m  Jamaicd,  bnt  th 
following  will  do :— To  Mr.  Jo.  Hutohiusoi 
at  Jo.  Brownrigg's,  Esq,  care  of  Mr.  Benjs 
min  Hetiriqucz,  mercliant,  Orange  Streel 
Kingston.  I  arrived  here,  at  my  brother'i 
only  yesterday,  after  fighting  my  wa; 
through  Piusley  and  Kilmarnock  agains 
those  old  powerful  for"  "^  " "'" "    '■*■"    '"  '' 


with  fee 


"Oh    youth! 
blest."    Life  is 


this  is  Tuesday,  and  yet  I  have  not  heard  a 
word  froni  him.    God  have  merw  on  me ! 

natB  fbo! !    The  sport,  the  miaerab'te  lictint 
of  rebellious  pride,  hypochondriac  iinagina- 

"1  wish  that  I  were  dead,  but  I'm  no  like 
todie!"  T  had  lately  "  a  hair-breadth 'scape 
in  th'  imnuneut  deadly  breach  "  at  lore  too 
Thank  ray  stars,  I  got  off  heart-who!^ 
B  fleyd  tlian  hurt."— Intetrupiion. 


le  flesh— so  1 
fields  of  dissipation.  I  have 
incidents  in  my  life  which  ga^e  lue  ho  mucn 
jileasure  as  meeting  you  m  Glasgow.  'There 
IS  a  tune  of  life  beyond  which  we  cannot 
worth  IhB  name  of  friendship, 
stage,  profusely 
a  airy  scene :  almost  all  that 
ime  of  enjoyment  or  pleasure 
is  only  a  cliatming  delusion ;  and  in  comes 
repining  age,  in  all  the  graiily  of  hoary 
wisdom,  and  wretcheilly  chaaea  avray  tl 
bewitching  pliantom.  When  I  think  of  li,  . 
I  resolre  to  keep  a  strict  look-out  in  the 


shrinking regolnUon ;  accompany  met 
^f.  ..  .._  njjjp|.j|,ia  world!  You  must 
me-  Your  friendship  I  think  t 
I,  though  I  should  dale  my  letters 
from  a  marching  regiment.  Early  in  life, 
and  all  my  hie,  1  reckoned  on  a  recruiting 
J '-riorn  hope.    Seriously  iliongl^ 


soiuid,  aud  i  shall  struggle  e 


convenience  and  iodependf 

cultivate  intimacy  with  a  few  of  the 

panions  of  youth,  thai 

bumour  a  handful  of 
life,  when  they  come  do 
futurity— 


!  of  worldly 


id;  U 


TO    CLA.HIND.V, 
Cumsmi,  March  2in(,  17aa 
m  certaii],  that  my  generous 


a  long  week  (67),  has  been  in  any  At 
owing  to  my  forgetfulness,  I  have 
tossed  about  through  the  country  ever  i 
I  wrote  you ;  and  am  here,  returning 
Dumfries-shire,  at  an  inn,  the  post-olGi 


Ho,t,db,  Google 


TO  BOBEKT  AINPLIE,  ESQ. 
:,  with  Just  so  long  time  ia_  my 


st  equal  to  the  insidious  decree  of  the 
an  monatch'a  mBiiddte>  when  he  forbade 
g  petition  of  Giod  or  man  for  fortj  days, 
the  venerable  prophet  beea  as  throng 

im  thinking  my  farming  scheme  will  Tet 
I  worthy 


3  friend  and 


(ks  the  b 


r  pleased 


me  on  the  spot :  he  thinks  the  bargain  prac- 

review  of  the  lands,  mnoh  hetlf 
with  them.  I  wont  mention  tliis 
tj  any  body  but  you  and  — ~— .  Don't 
accuse  sae  of  being  tickle :  I  have  the  two 
plans  of  life  beCoce  me,  and  I  wish  to  adopt 
the  one  most  likely  to  procure  me  iudepeu- 
dcnce  1  shaU  be  in  Edinbiugh  next  week. 
I  long  to  see  you:  your  imaj^  is  oranipre- 
srnt  to  me ;  oay,  I  am  ounviuced  1  would 
soon  idolatriie  it  moat  seriously;  hi  much 
do  absence  and  memory  improve  the  medium 
thronifh  which  one    sees    the  mucli-loved 


eight,  I  eipect  to  n 
of  Grace.  I  hope,  a 
find  a  letter  from ; 


et  you — at  the  llirone 
I  go  home  to  nigh' 
n  at  the  post-oini 


my  sincerett  frienilship,  my  correspondence, 
will  they  be  any  compensation  fur  the  sucri- 
ficFs  you  make  for  rny  sake  I  If  they  will, 
they  are  yours.  If  I  settle  on  the  fcrm  1 
propose,  1  am  just  a  day  and  a  holfa  ride 
from  Edinburgh.    We  will  meet— don't  you 


■arewell,  my 

fair,  my 

ch*n 

ning  Poetess 

J  all  good  tl 

HKs  evei 

dyoti!    Im 

r,  my  dearest  lladuni 

yoH 

!  Deak  Sib  —  Apologies  for  not 
5  are  frequently  like  apoli^es  for  not 
g— the  apolt^y  better  than  the  song, 
fonght  my  way  severely  through  tlie 
hospitality  of  this  country,  to 
every   guest   drunk  to  bed  if  they 


recollected    jour     buying    thi 
I  shoidd  return  my  thanks  fc 


lafe.  'IVasthe 
same  kind  as 
the  gentleman 
there    perfectly 


f  hie 


a  good  deal 
Kfure  me;  i 

t  eligible.    I 


I  shall  balance  them  ti 
judgment,  and  fii  on  tlia  m 
have  written  Mr.  Miller,  ann  snau  waiE  on 
him  when  I  come  toCown.  which  shall  be  the 
beginning  or  middle  of  next  week ;  I  would 
be  in  sooner,  but  my  unlucky  knee  is  rather 
IB,  atid  I  fear  fur  some  time  will  scarcely 


1  the^e  ideas  ti 


writmg  to  to^noirow,  I  will  not  write  at 
to  Ei&nburgh  till  I  return  to  it,  1  wo 
send  my  eomplinieuts  to  Mr.  Nicol,  bat 
would  be  hurt  if  he  knew  1  wrote  to  i 
body  and  not  to  him ;  so  T  shall  only  J 
my  best,  kindest,  kindest  compliments 


life,  either  as  an  Eicise-oflicer,  or  as  a 
farmer,  1  propose  myself  great  pleasure  from 
a  tegular  cottespondence  with  the  only  man 
almost  £  ever  saw  who  joined  the  most 
:udence  with  the  warmest  gene- 


osity. 


nested  r< 


.   Wood;    I  h 


IS  in  better 


ly  dearest  friend,  your  obligt 


TO  ROBERT  AINSUE,  Esa. 

Mmchlini:,  March  3rd,  11S8. 
My  Deah  I'riene — I  am  just  returned 
-om  Idi.  Miiler'a  farm.      My  ohl  friend 


Ho,t,db,  Google 


CORRESPOSDEXCE  OF  BUKS3. 
ms  highly  pleased    breast  of  the  msn  of  kfen  h 


tie  is 


Btaa^eret!  me  ft  good  (feaL  I  tax. 
plans  before  lae:  I  shnll  etideavDUF  to  balance 
them  ia  the  best  of  m;  judgmeut,  aiid  6i 
on  the  BiOBt  nibble.  On  the  whole,  if  I 
find  Mr.  Millw  ir.  tlw  "Bine  fevourable  dis- 
position as  when  I  ani  him  last,  1  shall  in 
all  probability  turn  fanner. 

I  have  been  through  aoie  f  ribidation,  and 
inder  much  bnffetCing  of  the  wicked  one, 
since  I  came  to  thi)  countrv.  Jean  !  found 
baiiislied.  furlom,  deidtuts  and  friendless  ; 
I  have  reconnled  her  to  hei  fate,  and  I  bare 
reconciled  hec  to  her  mother. 

I  shall  he  in  Qdinhnrgh  the  middle  ofneit 
Veek.  My  farming  ideas  I  shall  keep  pri- 
vate till  I  see.  I  got  a  letter  ftotu  Clariiida 
^sterday,  and  slie  tella  me  ahe  has  fmt  no 
letter  of  mine  hut  one.  Tell  licr  that  I 
wmfe  to  her  ftom  Qlajjiow,  from  Kilmai^ 
iterday  from 
iiutriei.  lu- 
Edinbursb  1 


is  mailc,  I  feel  my  soiil  respire  more  easdt 
I  know  you  uiU  BO  alon"  with  me  n  y 
justification^wonld   to  Heaven  yon  eoald 


nock,  from  JIanchline 
Cumnock  aa  I  veturucd 
deed,  slie  is  the  only  pi 


TO   CLARINDA. 
JUbssjwi,  JLfaroA  7(*.  17B3. 

your  teptoapli  for  unkindness — a  sin  to  unlike 

whole  Uecali^iie,  Jifth,  sistb,  seventh,  and 
ninth  articles  excepted— tliat  I  believe  I  shall 
not  rest  in  my  grave  about  it,  if  1  die  before 
1  see  vou.  You  have  often  allowed  ms  tlic 
judge,  and  the  heart  to  fcet,  the 


iUeiics.    Waa  it 
C  your  own  charm 
^, to  suppose  that 
abate  my  passion 


blasphemy,  then,  agai 
and  agaiiiBt  my  feeli 

You,  my  Love,  may  uavu  your  cares  ana 
aniietLeB  to  disturb  you,  but  tliey  are  the 
usual  occurrences  of  Hfe ;  your  future  views 
are  filed,  and  your  mind  ju  a  settled  rautuie. 
Could  not  you,  my  ever  dearest  Madam, 
malie  a  tittle  allowance  for  a  man,  after  lung 
absence,  paying  a  short  visit  to  3  country 

Cannot    you     guess,    my    Ckrinda,    wliat 

nd  fears,  must  crowd  the 


bodings,  k>pes  i 


my  adopti 
mii-ht  revel 

"Her,  the  bright  sun  of 


pladng  you 
bv  no  mean 
n'iah  to  be 


foil,  my  dear  Madam, 

's  coldness.    'Tis 

V  her,  an  honour  ahe 
We  ought,  when  we 


1  flrat  plaa 


how  much  ground  ae  occupy,  let  iis  contend 
for  it  as  property :  and  those  who  seem  to 
doiilit,  or  deny  ua  what  is  justly  ouca,  let  u» 
either  pity  their  pr^udicea,  or  despise  their 
judgaient,    I  know,  my  dear,  you  will  say 


es  himself  to  be  thought;  the  other 


pctually  at   the    mercy   of  the  petula 
the  mistakes,  the  prejudices,  nay,  the 


northy  soul,  and  equalled  by  very,  very 


of  hear 


Sut  CI 


sa  of  heart  thanClarinda? 
a  prejudice  wiU  dare  to  say  ao, 
:irutiau  and  diacerumenC,  CUhnda 

jeyoiid  her :  to  wit.  Miss dure 

pretence ;  to  Clarinda's  wit,  scarcely 
ler  ses  date  make  pretence.    Per- 


o  do  or  to. 


^nd  for 


ouducc  in  life.  Miss 


r   called   r 
med   lier   part  wliei 


Away,  then,  with  theae  disquietudes  I  Let 
pray  with  the  honest  weaver  of  Kilhar- 
lui — "  Lord,  scad  lu  a  guid  conceit  o* 


Ho,t,db,  Google 


TO  sm, 

in   flio  imtds  of  the   ouU 

!c  mind  nny  such  toes." 
eiTOr  in  the  cotoinerce  of  in- 
ra  perpetunlly 


re,  have  n 


at  is  Btill 


ied  to  deal  with  ua  on  oiit  own  tei 
.bat  is  B  rent;.  With  almost  e 
Be  must  pocket  oar  pearls,  les 
and  learn,  m  tlia  old  gcotch  phm. 
gle  aic  like  as  ve  get."  For  this 
ine  should  trj  to  erect  a  kind  of  I 

list  saji,  "We  should  commune 
iwn  heEirla,  and  be  atilL"    Tbia  i: 


it  hEid  an  opporCuniCy  of 

be  gone  out  of  the  couutcy  too.  1  have 
been  looking  at  farms,  and,  after  all,  perhaps 
I  may  bcKIb  in  the  diaracttr  of  a  farmer.  I 
have  got  so  vicious  a  bent  to  idleneaa,  and 
have  ever  beeu  so  little  a  man  of  business, 
that  it  will  lake  no  ordiuary  effort  to  bring 
my  mind  properly  into  the  routine;  but  you 
will  lay  a  "great  effort  is  irorthy  of  you." 
1  say  BO  myself  J  and  bntt«r  up  my  vanity 
n'Uh  all  the  stimukilii^  compliments  I  CBu 
think  of.  Jlen  of  gnue,  geometiical 


nay  cry 


trated," 

p  reason  as  much  BS  they  please ; 
.'ways  ftmnrt  »n  honest  passion, 
itinct,  the  truest  ausiliary  in  the 
us.B-oild,  Beaaon  almost  always 
:  like  an  unlucky  nife  Ui  a  poor 
jsband,  just  in  sufficient  tune  to 

Miches  to  ilia  other  grieve 


Encellent  wreKh ! 


TO  MR  MUIR. 
Massgid,  Mm\  1th  1788. 
Deak  Sis — I  have  particutaily  dianged 
my  ideas,  ainca  I  saw  you.  i  took 
old  Ol^iconner  with  me  to  Mr.  Miller's 
farm,  and  he  vtts  so  pleased  witli  it,  that  I 
have  wrote  an  offer  to  Mr.  Miller,  which  if 
he  accepts,  I  sliall  sit  down  a  plain  farmeF, 
the  happiest  of  lives  when  a  man  can  hve  by 
it.  In  this  case,  I  shall  not  stay  in  Edin- 
burgh above  a  week.  1  set  out  on  Monday, 
and  ffould  have  come  by  Kilmarnock,  but 
there  are  several  small  sums  owing  me  for 
my  first  ediiion  about  Oalston  and  Newmills, 
and  I  shall  set  off  so  early  as  to  dispalch  my 
business  and  reach  Glasgow  by  night.  When 
T  return,  I  shall  devote  a  foraoooii  ot  two  to 

the  kindness  I  owe  your  friendship.  Now 
tliat  I  hope  to  settle  witli  some  credit  and 
comfort  at  home,  there  was  not  any  friand- 
ipondence  that  promised 




me  more  pleasure  than  yours 

I  hope  I  will 

not  be  disappointed,    I  trust 

le  spring  will 

TO  RICHARD  BROWN 

renew  your  shattered  frame,  a 
fiiends  happy.    Yoiiandllui 

MaMklaie.  March  7th, 

that  life  is  no  ^et  blessing 

VE  been  out  ot  the  coimtry. 

my 

dear 

•ITie  close  of  hfe,  indeed,  to 
age,  is 

Dark  as  was  chaos,  ere  tlie  infant  at 
Was  roli'd  together,  or  had  tried  bh 
Athwart  the  gloom  profound. 


there  is  an  end  of  pain,  care,  woes  and 

a  ;  if  that  part  of  us  called  nund  does 

vB  the  apparent  destruction  ot  the  man 

— away  with  old-wife  pr^udices  and  tales  I 

Every  ago    and   every   nation    has  bad  a 

■""Trent  set  of  stories;   and  as  the  many 

always  weak  of  consequence,  they  have 

a,  perliaps  always,  been  dec^ved :  a  man 

iciouE  of  having  acted  an  honest   pairt 

great 
could  hive  no  other 


It  he  may  have  be*n  the  s 


im  hapiiy,  who  gave  him  those  passions 
id  instincts,  and  welt  knows  their  force. 
These,  roy  worthy  friend,  are  my  ideas; 
lA  1  know  they  are  not  tiir  diiterent  from 
_,  mts.  It  becomes  a  raan  of  sense  to  think 
for  hiniself,  particnlarly  in  a  ease  nhere  all 


Ho,t,db,  Google 


e  equnlly  interested,  and  ivh 
I  rneti  are  equ^ly  in  the  dark. 
i.ni}'dear!Siri  Godaeadusac 


COBKESrOSDENCE  OF  BURN3. 

The  dignified  and  dignlfring  o 
:s9    of  an    lioneat    man,    and    t 


TO  CIAKINDA. 

y&e\S  guilty,  Clarinda ;  1  ahonl 

dearest  M&dam,  that  yont'a  i 
■      '     ■'■■(llhi 


from  yon,  and  that  this  a  the  Urth  or  aii 
I  lia™  sent  10  yon,  yon  will  nut  reproach  n 
with  a  good  grace,  for  uitkiudnesa.  I  ha 
always  some  kind  of  idea,  not  to  sit  doi 

■--  D  letter,  eicept  I  ' —   ■' 

-  -'  nijr  ficultir-  - 

rarely  my  aitiiatiou.  For  laslance,  j-eater- 
day  1  dined  Ht  s  friend's  at  some  distance ; 
the  aavage  hoipitaljty  of  thia  conntry  ipent 
me  t\ie  moat  part  of  the  ni^ht  over  the 
nauseous  potion  in  the  boitl:    this  day — 

— tDStiiig-,  except  fiir  a  disught  of  naler  or 
"  '  r  Qght  o'dock  at  night — 


TO    MISS . 

Mt  Dear  Codntbtwoman — I  am  so 
mpatient  to  show  you  that  I  am  once  mora 
It  peace  with  you,  titat  1  9end  you  the  hook 
:  mentioned  directly,  rather  than  wail  the 
mcertain  time  of  my  seeing  you.  I  am 
ifraiii  I  have  mislaiit  or  lost  Collina's  Poems, 


*  you,wi 


ivlieQ  I  tell 


'  abl«  b 


awl  ti 


■  w^k  it 
,e  pleasure- 
utHEjug  iroiu  uLB  inisEreaa  of 

ice  to  all  this!     When  I  sit 

hundred    times   a-day    do   1 

ide,  as  I  get  witliiu  the  room, 
ave  I  been !  and  how  little  of 
[,  Qdled  th« 


acred   t 


nd  you  lo„ 
plsyed  the  deuce  somehow  about  my  heart. 
My  breast  has  been  widowed  these  many 
mouths,  and  I  thought  myself  proof  a^nsC 
the  bscinaiina;  witfbcmft ;  hut  i  am  afraid 
you  will  "feehnglycouviiieeme  what  I  am." 
I  say,  I  am  afraid,  because  I  am  not  sura 
wliat  is  the  matter  with  me.  I  have  one 
miserable  bad  symptma ;  vheu  you  whisper, 
or  bok  kiudly  to  another,  il  gives  me  a 
draught  of  damnation.    I  have  a  kind  of 

by  yourself,  though  whn  I  would  aay. 
Heaven  above  knows,  for  1  am  sure  I  kiioiv 
not.  I  have  no  formed  design  in  all  this, 
but  just,  in  Hie  oatedness  of  my  heart,  write 
you  down  a  mere  matCet-Df-fact  story.  You 
may  perhaps  give  yourself  aits  of  dialanca 
on  thia,  and  that  wiil  completely  cure  me ; 
'  wish  you  would  not — just  fet  us  meet, 
•a  please,  in  the  old  beaten  way  of 


than  the 
:  honr  of 
God,  my 


"O  what  is  life,  that  thoi^htleas 

all! 
A  drop  of  honey  in  a  draught  of  gi 

Nothing  astonishes  me  more,  wh 
Hiineas  clogs  the  wherfs  of  life, 
thoiigbUess  career  we  run  in  thi 
health.  "None  saith,  where  is 
Maker,  that  giveth  songs  in  the  ni 

of  the  field,  and  mote  understanding  than 
the  fowls  of  the  air." 

iSve  me,  my  Maker,  to  rememlicr  thee! 
Give  me  to  act  up  to  the  dignity  of  my 

and  continue  witli  me  that  dear-lov'd  friend 
that  feels  with  mine  I 


friei 


wiUnol 


that  i! 
oiT  frc 


Great  Protector  of  innocent 
from  the  batbed  dart  of  cal 
you  by  the  covert  snare  of  i 


TO  JIISS  CHALMERS. 

EdMarnh,  March  14W,  1783. 
iow,  roy  ever  dear  friend,  that  you  will 


Ho,t,db,  Google 


*  •  I  have  st  last  taken  a  lease  of  a  rarm. 
festemight  I  completed  a  batgain  with  Mr. 
.liller  of  UaUwinCon  far  the  farm  of  Elhs- 
Eind,  on  the  hanka  of  the  Nith,  betweeu 
.ve  aud  ail  miles  above  Dumfries.  I  begin 
t  Wbitsuiidaj'  to  build  a  house,  drive  lime, 
ic. ;  and  Heaven  be  my  help !  for  it  will 
ake  a  a»ang  effort  to  bring  my  mind  into 
he  routine  of  busioess.  I  have  diacliai^ed 
11  the  army  of  luy  former  purmiita,  ftuidea, 
lid  pleaaurea-— a  motley  host  I  and  have 
iierally  Bud  etriotly  retained  only  the  ideas 
>f  a  lew  friends  which  I  have  incorporated 
nta  a  tife-gnarl    I  trust  in  He.  Join 


TO  MR.   EOBEET  CLEGHORN.  321 

)d  help  ns,  who  are  vita  or 
Bfession,  if  we  stand  not  for 
sink  unsupported ! 


nueh  i 


witlings  by  p 

fiime  there,  wt ^^ 

I  am  highly  Battereil  by  the  news  yon  tell 
me  of  Coila.  I  may  say  to  the  ftu  painter  who 
does  me  so  much  honour,  as  I)r.  Bealtie 
says  to  Ross,  the  poet  of  his  muse  Scats, 
from  which,  by  the  bye,  I  took  the  Idea  of 
CoiU  ('tis  a  poem  of  Beattie'a  in  the  Seot- 
tish  dialect,  which  perhaps  you  have  never 

Ye  shak  your  head,  bat  o'  my  fegs, 
Ye've  set  anld  ScDIa  on  her  legs : 

I  she  hen  wi'  belfs  and  degs, 


wish  to  be  thonght  to  possess ;  and  have 
always  despised  the  wbming  yelp  of  com- 
plaint, and  the  covardly,  feeble  rsaolie. 

I'oar  Miss  K.  is  aihng  a  good  deal  this 
winter,  and  begged  me  to  remember  her  to 
yoH  the  ficat  time  1  wrote  to  you.  Surely 
woman,  amiable  woman,  is  ofcau  made  in 
vani.  Too  delicately  fbnned  for  the  rougher 
pursuita  of  anihilion  ;  too  noble  for  tlie  dirt 
of  avarice  and  aven  too  gentle  for  the  rags 
of  pleasure;  formed  indeed  for,  and  highly 
BU5ceptible  of,  enjoyment  and  rapture ;  bnt 
tliat  enjoyment,  alas !  almost  wholly  at  the 
mercy  of  the  caprice,  malevotcnee,  stupidity, 
or  wickedness  of  an  animal  at  all  times  com- 
paiaiively  imfeding,  and  often  hmlal. 

B,  B. 


TO  MRS.  D0NLOP. 

Mossgkl,  Marsh  17(1,  1788. 
Mahah — Tlie  laat  nara"raph  in  yours  of 
the  80th  February  affected  me  most,  so  I 
shall  begm  my  answer  where  yoii  ended 
your  letter.  That  I  am  often  a  aiiuier,  with 
any  little  wit  T  have,  I  do  confess :  but  I 
have  taied  my  recollection  to  no  purpose, 
to  find  out  when  it  was  employed  ^auist 
you.  I  hate  an  nngenerous  SEircasm  a  great 
deal  worse  than  I  do  the  devil,  at  least  aa 
Milton  desciibes  him )  and  though  I  may  bs 
'  *    " -uiltyof  it 


TO  RICHARD  BROWN. 

Glasgow.  March  2SlIi,  1788. 
I  AM  monstrously  to  blame,  my  dear  Sir, 
in  noc  writing  to  yon.  and  sendiug  you  the 
Directory.  1  have  been  getlmj  my  tack 
extcjided,  as  X  have  taken  a  farm,  and  I  have 
been  racking  shop  accounts  with  Mr, 
Creech ;  both  of  which,  together  with  vatdi- 


*,  have  in 


heavy  fo.      . 

gree  actually  fevered  tne.  i  reaiiy  loi^oc 
the  Directory  yestenlay,  which  vexed  me; 
but  I  was  convnlsed  with  rage  a  great  part 
of  the  day.  1  have  to  thank  yon  (or  the 
iugeiiioua,  frieruUy  and  elegant  epistle  front 
your  friend  ilr,  Crawford.  1  sbidl  certainly 
write  to  him,  but  not  now.  Tliis  Is  mra^y 
a  CLU-d  to  you,  as  T  am  posting  to  Dumfnea* 
shire,  where  many  perplexing  arrangementi 
await  me.  I  am  vesed  about  the  Direeto^ ; 
but,  my  dear  Sir,  fo^tve  me :  these  «^t 
days  I  have  been  positively  crazed.      My 

you  at  Grenada.      I  am  ever,  my  dearest. 


ijselt  I  o 


I  other) 


any  light  but  you  are  sure  of  hemg  respect, 
able— ^ou  can  afford  to  pass  by  an  oc^ 
to  display  your  wit,  because  you  mi 


TO  MK.  ROBERT  CLEGHORN.: 
Manchliae,  March  31*i,  178a 
Testbrday,  ray  dear  Sir,  as  I  was  riding 


Ho,t,db,  Google 


323 


COILUESPOSBESCE  OF   BURNS. 


Birnday,  I  tnmeil  my  thoughts  to  psalm! 
and  hyinua,  and  epiritiial  sou^ ;  oud  you 
favourite  tic,  "Captain  CyKeaii,"  coming  i 
l«igtb  into  my  head,  I  tried  these  words  t 
it.  PO)  You  will  see  that  the  first  part  ( 
the  time  must  he  repeated. 
I  am  tolerably  pleased  with  these  versa: 

ie  tty  i(    he 


no  fartlu5r  of  my  promise.    I  have  long 

M-liere  one  sits  dowii  irksoioely  Co  wi 
letter,  because  we  think  we  are  in 


!n  is  forty  mile-- from  this 


pique  my  sliill  in  mu 


glaring  wealili,  and  too 


TO   MR   WII.I 

JfoHcSiMc,  ApHl  7lh.  1788. 
1  HAVE  not  delayed  so  long  to  write  you. 
my  much  tesf  ected  f[ieu4  beeniise  1  tbouglit 


m    know  how 


time — It  « ill  always 


ipecied  Sir,  your  obUged  friend  ai 


Ho,t,db,  Google 


TO  ME.  J^MES  8JIITH. 


TO   MRS.   DUNLOP. 

ilauchline,  April  281f,  1788. 
AM — Tour   powera  of  repreheusion 


rstandins  a  mail  properiy, 

without  knonius  something  of  his  previous 
Weaj—thot  is  to  say,  if  the  man  hs3  any 
ideas ;  for  I  know  many  who,  in  the  animal- 
muster,  pass  lor  men,  tligl  ere  Ihe  scanty 
masters  of  only  one  ilUa  oa  aiiy  given  buIv 
ject,  and  by  far  the  greatest  part  of  youl 
tcnnouitsnoes  and  mine  can  barely  b(--'    * 


1'2S— I'B— 1-7; 
latter) :  so  to  1 


,  I  tele  u 


uy  simple  petiuoii,iaii  he  resumed;  | 
five-aiid  thirty  pounds  a-year  wai 
nier  ngtorl  ti  r  11  poor  poet,  if  tor- 
■  jade  tricks  aliould  kick  liiin  down  | 


aTiTuD 


liul  title  to  my  cnr£   a 


e  -Uouni 


It  pleasure 


11. J — ■'^Iepared    j^j    ^^^     


It  juu 


slept  ui 


.  niifht  tu  sec  out  0 
r  luiai-  Dights  preceding  I 
>artriieiit  where  the  turce  of  tha  niii 
.ms  ma  only  mitigated  by  hein;. 
irough  aumberleas  apertures  in  tiiei'i 
ills  &.C  In  cou9equence  1  nas  on  is 
.ou'ia\  Hud  part  of  Puesdiy  unable 
ituflwii  flilhallthemuLriblaeffec 


'^  I  inhli  called  bet  mine  and  I  have  a  km 
I  vlum^icai  wish  to  get  her  the  Jirst 
prtneiit  from  an  old  and  much  valued  tr 
'  '■  n  and  mine,  a  trusty  Iryjan,  on  nl 


TO  JtR  JAJlliS  SMITH. 


e,  April  23'A,  US 
Strashurgh,  my  ; 


Hosted  by  Google 


COEEESPONDESCE  OP  EUENS, 
■tix  of  him;  though  I 


TO  PROFCS&OR  DUI 

ALD  STEWART. 

MuucMm 

Mav  3rd  1768 

my  bagstellM      It  the 

wishes  of 

boneat    gtacitiirte    have 

any  influence  Bith 

Djjwh 

fnmBi  the 

chain  of  causes  and  ev 

iperit)  aiid 

liappiness  mil  attend  j 

afe  to 

your  native 

Wherever  I  un  allow 

me  Si 

to  claim  It 

SB  my    pmilegB  to  acq 

inre  I  could  aay  it  uitli 

truth. 

hat,  neit  to 

my  little  fame,  and  the  h 

viniit 

m  my  power 

to  make  life  more  comfortable  t 

those  whom 

nature  has  made  dear 

0  me, 

I  shall  ever 

regard  your   countenmc 

e,  yon 

your  friendly  BO.>d  oBiires 

asth 

mo9t  valued 

ucceds 

ui  life. 

TO   «KS.  DUNLOP. 

Mmichline,  May  m,  1788. 
Madam— Dryden'9  Virgil  haa  delighted 

agree  with  me,  hut  the  Georgica  are  to  me 
by  far  the  best  of  VirgiL    ft  is  indeed  a 


Geol^io^  and  then  survey -ny  own  powers. 

up  by  the  dde  of  a  thorough-hral  hunter,  to 
Btart  for  the  plate.    I  own  1  am  disappointed 


l[iioT  whether  I  < 
Hons  to  he  a  criti 
that  I  thinlt  Tu^l,  i 


not  hazard  my  pieCeu- 
auy  kind,  nhen  I  say 


of    Hon 


Odyssey  by  me,  I  eould 
■ages  where  Virgil  has  e 

think  there  is  anything  of  thi 
translators;  for,  from  every thi 
of  Dryden,  I  think  him,  in  gen 
of  language,  Pope's  master, 
perused  l^sso  enough  to  forr 
in  some  future  letter  you  shall 


If  I  had  the 
llel  many  pna- 
itly  copied,  but 


TO  MR  ROBERT  AINSLIE. 

Mnuchtim,  Mas  261k,  1788. 
MvDEAE  PniESD— lamtwokindlettcrs 
in  your  debt ;  but  I  have  been  from  home, 
and  horridly  busy,  buying  and  prepnring  for 
my  farming  buainess,  over  and  above  the 
pliigne  of  my  Excise  uistructious,  which  this 
week  will  finisli. 

Aa  I  flitter  my  wishes  that  I  foresee  many 

'tis  fnilish  to  talk  of  eicusin^  dull  epistles ; 
a  dull  Utter  may  be  a  very  kind  one.  I  baie 
the  pleasure  to  telt  you  thit  I  have  been 
eitremely  fortunate  in  all  my  buyinga  and 
bargainmgs  hitherto — Mrs.  Bums  not  ex- 
cepted; which  title  I  now  avow  to  the 
world.  I  am  truly  pleased  with  this  tost 
atlair ;  it  haa  indeed  added  to  my  aniietiea 


T  gir^  has  the  n 


a  wish  but  to  gratify  my  every  idea  of  her 
deportment  1  aa  interrupted. — yareweli  I 
my  dear  Su,  K.  B. 


TO  MRS,  1ILNIJ3P. 

May  21th,  1783, 

I  partiality  of  yours,  which  has  followed 
in  my  return  to  the  ehade  of  life,  with 
luous  benevolence.  OtMii  did  I  regret, 
le  fleelnig  hours  of  my  lat*  will-o'-wisp 
arance,  that  "here  I  had  no  continuing 


Lirough  life — insigTuflcai 


Ho,t,db,  Google 


TO  MPS.  I 

neiu  in  whst  T  tat  Bionnd  me)  than  the  i 
portonce  the  opulent  bestow  on  their  trifli 
lamily  aSaJra,  compared  wiih  the  sery  stu 
things  on  the  controcted  scale  of  a  cottaj 
Last  afternoon  I  had  the  haiiouc  to  spend 
hour  or  two  at  a  good  ^vamau'a  fire-sic 
vhere  the  pEanks  that  composed  the  So 
were  decorated  with  a  splendid  carpet,  and 
the  gay  tahle  sparkled  with  silver  an '  ' 
Tia  now  abont  term-day,  and  tliere 

though  in  appearauce  partakers,  and 
noble  pirtalets,  of  tlie  same  nati 

nerves,  their  sinews,  their  health,  strength, 
Tisdom,  eiperieiice,  geniiu,  time,  nay  a  good 
part  of  their  very  thouy;ht3— -sold  Lbr  mouths 
and  years,  not  only  to  the  necessities,  the 
rain'reniencea,  but  the  caprices,  of  the  im- 
portant few.  We  talked  of  the  ineigiii" 
creatures;  nay,  notn'ithslitndifig  thcu' g< 
stupidity  and  rascality,  did  eome  of  thi 
devils  the  honour  tu  commend  them, 
light  be  the  turf  upon  hi)  breast  who 
taught,  "Reverence  thyself,"  V/e 
down  on  the  unpolished  wretches,  tli 
pertinent  wives  and  douterly  brats, 
lordly  bull  does  on  the  little  dirty  i 


ciiily 


1117    lung    and    deep-rooted    atfection 

In  honpewife  matters,  of  aptness  to  lei 

mistress:  and  during  my  absence  in  Niths- 
dale,  she  is  regularly  and  constantly  ap- 
prentice to  my  mother  and  aistets  iu  tbai 
dairy  and  other  rural  business. 

The  muses  must  not  he  offended  when  I 
tell  them,  the  concerns  of  my  wife  and  family 
will,  ill  my  mind,  always  take  the  pwt;  bnti 


TO  THE  SAME. 
Ellalaiid,  June  131ft,  1 


Dund  a  once  much-loved  and  atil] 
much-loved  female,  literally  and  truly  cost 
ut  to  the  mercy  of  the  nalied  elements ;  but 
enabled  her  to  •panhait  a  slielter — there  ii 
a  spotting  »ith  a  tblloiv-creature's  happi- 


G       B             H. 

The  most  placid  good-naturB  and  sweets 

n  ured 

devoted  with  all  its   poivers    to   love  mej 

m               A 

see  off  to  the  best   advuitajje  by  a  mote 

"   b''  iSom  i 

n      ca     Ider 

think,  iu  a  woman,  may  make  a  good  wife. 

y  Geddes  tlm 

though  she  slioiild  never  have  read  a  p^ce 
but  the  ScHptures  of  the  Old    and    New 

CO    hear     and 

wk             ^TlO- 

Testament,  nor  liave  danced  iu  a  brighter 

assembly  than  a  peony  pay  wedding. 

R.B. 

he  drear    ob- 

hi&    £     erne 

Ho,t,db,  Google 


CORRESPOSDENCT!   OF  HVSNS. 


B,  ROBERT  AINSLIE. 
EllKlmid.  Ja«e  \m,  178f 

low  the  third  day,  my  deal 
cit,  tnst  I  nave  sojourned  in  these  tegio 
sud  during  these  tbtee  daya  yoQ  have  oi 
pied  more  of  107  Choughls  than  in  tl 
Tteeks  preceding :  in  Ayialiire  I  have  aevi 


,9  of  frie 
riably 


the  pole.  My  fani 
y  uncoanh  cares  and  uc 
iangnage  of  complaint. 


■bould  a  liiing  man  complain?" 

1  have  laCely  been  maeh  mortifled  villi 
contemplating  an  unlucky  imperfection  in 
the  Tcrj  Iraming  and  construction  of  my 
■onl;  namely,  a  blundenng  inaccuiacy  of 
her  olfactory  organs  iu  liittiug  the  went  of 
craft  or  design  in  my  tellow^ereotures.  I  do 
not  mean  any  comphmcut  to  my  ingeiinouS' 
ness.  or  to  hint  that  the  defect  is  in  con- 
tequeiicc  of  tbe  unsuspicious  simplicity  of 

in  some  say  or  other,  an  imperfection  in  tiie 
meniHl  sight ;  or,  niet&iihoi  apart,  some 
modiiication  of  diiUiicas.     In  two  or  Cliree 

I  have  all  along,  hitherto,  in  the  warfare 
.of  iife,  been  bred  to  arms  among  tbe  light- 
liorse — the"  piquet-gnarda  oi'  fancy— a  tiud 
of  linssar:^  and  Highlaudera  of  the  brain ; 


determined  to  buy  in  among  the  grav 
■quadrons  of  beavy-armcd  tliought,  oc  th 
artillery  corps  of  jjlodding  cnntrivancB, 


letter  b  in  Ayrshire ;  but  I  thought  it  not 
only  prettily  iflid,  but  nohly  thouj^t.  Yon 
will  nuke  a  noble  feUow  if  once  yon  were 


TO  THE  SAME. 


,e  the  fa 


for  it,  and  sit  to  him  yourself  for  me,  which 
put  in  the  same  size  as  the  doctor'a.  The 
account  of  both  profiles  uill  be  fifteen 
shillings,  which  1  have  given  to  James 
Connd,  oni  Mauchline  carrier,  to  pay  you 
when  you  give  '■■—  " '      ■" 


ho  did  not  exceed 


D  to  sit.    The  time  is 
1  Mt.  ^Tiera,  I  am  sure 

cairn,  the  doctor,  and 
new  chnnney.piece  that 
K.  B. 


TO  THE  SAME. 
Eltisland,  Jmi  SOlh.  1783. 
My  DEiK  Sill— I  ju5t  now  recMved  yonr 


id's  death.  (73)  1  am  concerned  for  tie 
old  fellow's  eiit,  only  as  I  lear  it  may  be  to 
your  disadiranlagB  in  any  respect — for  an  old 
lan's  dyuig,  ocept  he  liave  been  a  very 

itiiatirin  a!  life  that  the  welfare  of^  the  poor 
r  tlie  helpless  depended  on  him,  I  think  it 
n  event  of  the  most  trlUiiig  moment  to  the 
'orld,  Man  ia  naturally  a  kind,  beuootenC 
uimal,  but  he  is  drapped  mto  such  a  needy 
I  situation  here  in  this  vexatioua  world,  and 
it  for  the  terrors  of  my  ticklish  !  has  such  a  ahore-son,  hungry,  growling, 
lecting  provision  for  a  fiunilv  of .  multiplying  pack  of  necessities,  appetiles, 
1  decidedly  of  opinion  that  the  passions  and  desires  about  him,  ready  to 
taken  is  vastly  for  my  hippi. '  devour  him  for  viaat  of  other  food,  that  in 


er  he  ill    I 


Hosted  by  Google 


that  he  mny  look  properly  to  himself.  You 
liine  been  iiupoaed  upon  in  payinit  Mr. 
Miets  far  tlie  profile  of  a.  Mc.  H.  1  did  not 
mention  it  in  my  letter  to  you,  not  did  I 
ever  give  Mr.  Miers  any  such  order.  I  have 
no  objection  to  loae  tbe  money,  bat  I  will 
not  liave  any  such  profile  in  my  poaaeasion. 
I  deareil  the  carrier  to  pay  you,  but  as  1 


uei^hbonra,  nbo  bai  made  hunself  absolutely 
contemptible  in  my  eyei  by  his  Billy,  garro- 
bua  piurieaicy.    I  Imow  it  has  beei      '    ' 


TO  MR.  PETER  HILL 

letter  Lord  BolingTitoke 


my  own 


.;  but  Irom 


19  I  would  the  Eervice  of  hell 
Your  poets,  apeniithrifta,  and  other  fbola  of 
that  kidney,  pretend,  tursootb,  to  crack 
their  joke*  on  prudence  j  but  'tis  a  BQiialid 
vagabond  ^crying-  in  bis  raifa.  Still,  im- 
prudence respecting  money  matters  is  miirii 
more  pardoi^le  than  imprudence  respecting 
tliaracler.     I  have  no  objeetion  to  prefer 


admire  the  close 


ve  me  with  all  mine  I  "  Humble  servant, 
id  all  that  truu^pery,  ia  now  anch  a  pros- 
tuted    businesa,  that    honest    friendship. 


TO  MB.  PETER  HILL, 
Mt  Deak   Hil^-I  sluiU    aay  n 
0  your  mad  pi-eaent.  (74)     Yon  h 
ing  and  often  been  of  important  ser 
le,  and  I  suppose  you  mean  to 

D  lift  up  I 


lefew 


n  if  you 


the  eame  hollow-hearted  insincerity,  and  dia- 
intcgritive  depravity   of  pi^neiple. 


s  of  ptofuaiou, 


a  the 


hac 

uufeeli  „ 

every  possible  rcserenee  for  the  much-talkeii- 
v(  world  beyond  tha  grave,  and  1  wish  that 
which  piety  believeSt  and  virtaa  deservea, 
may  be  dl  matt«r-Df-faet.  But  in  things 
belonging  to  and  terminating  in  this  present 
Bccne  of  existence,  nun  has  serioua  and 
interesting  buuiicsi  on  hand.  'Whether  a 
man  shsll  shake  tianda  with  welconie  in  the 
distinguished  ele^'ation  of  respect,  or  ahriidc 
from  contempt  in  the  abject  corner  of  io- 
significance :  whether  be  ahall  wanton  under 
e  tropic  of  plenty,  at  least  enjoy  himself 


ill  the  comfortable 
poverty;  whether 


the  a 


ihall  rise  in  the  maid; 
nieas  ot  self-approving  mind,  oi 
eath  a  galling  load  of  regret  and 
-these  are  alterna^ves  of  the  lasl 

ee  how  I  preach.  You  used  occa- 
to  sermonise  too;  I  wish  you 
a  charity,  favour  ma  with  a  sheel 


ig  obligations  until  t  siuli  net  be  able 
''  —  my  Lkce  before  you.  In  the  mean- 
Sir  Boger  de  Covnley,  because  it 
happened  to  he  a  cold  day  in  which  he  made 
hia  will,  ordered  hii  servants  great-coats  for 
mtmming,  ao,  because  T  have  been  this 
week  pl^rncd  with  an  indigestion,  1  have 
aent  yon  by  tlie  carrier  a  fins  old  ewe-milk 

ludigesf  ion  is  the  devil ;  nay,  'tia  the  devil 
and  all.  It  beaeia  a  man  in  every  one  of 
hia  aensea.  I  lose  my  appetite  at  tbe  sight 
of  snceeasful  knavery,  aud  aicteii  to  loathing 

folly.  When  the  hollow-hearted  wr«tch 
takes  me  by  the  hand,  the  feelmg  spoils  my 

my  palate,  that  it  cbokea  me  m  the  gullet ; 
and  the  pulteriseil,  teathered,  pert  coicomb, 
ia  ao  disgustful  in  my  nostril,  that  my  st<K 

If  ever  yon  have  any  of  these  disagreeable 

and  B  bit  of  my  cheese.  I  know  tiaH  you 
ate  no  niggard  of  your  good  things  among 
your  t^iends,  and  some  of  them  are  in  much- 
need  of  ■  slice.  There,  in  my  eye,  is  our 
fiiend  Smellie ;  a  nyn  positively  of  the  first 
abilities  and  grentesl  strength  of  mind,  as 
well  as  one  ot  tbe  beat  hearta  and  keenest 
wita  that  I  ever  met  uith ;  when  you  see 
him — oa,  alas !  he  too  is  smarting  at  the 

Cinch  of  dialjessfnl  circumstances,  B^^vated 
y  the  sueer  of  conCumehaus  greatness — a 
bit  of  my  cheese  alone  will  not  cure  him, 
but  if  you  add  a  tankard  of  brown  sloii^ 
and  superadd  a  magnum  ot  right  Oporto, 
you  will  see  his  sorrows  vani^  Uke  Oat 
morning  mist  before  the  aummw  ann. 


Ho,t,db,  Google 


CORHESPONDEXCE  OF  BtTRSS. 

diteaC  the  Duie  of  Queenaberry'i  late  poliH- 
isl  conduct. 
It  fellows  that  evec  any  man        I  haie  jnst  this  moment  an  oppottunitjr 
a  InocJieon    of  a  privole  hand  to  Edinbui^h,  aa  perhaps 
jou  would  iiot  digest  douhle  posiage. 


called  by  tlie  ni 

of  Bij  cheese  would  help 

of  his  iuperahnndaiit  modesty,  jou  would 

da  well  to  give  it  him, 

David  (75),  with  lii!  Counml,  comes,  too, 
■cross  my  recollection,  aiid  I  beg  you  wll 
help  him  lar^y  from  the  said  ewe-milk 
cheese,  to  cneble  him  to  digest  those  he. 
daubhis  parasrapha  wild  which  be  is 
eteisally  ktding  the  lean  characten  of  cer 
tain  great  mm  in  a  cettaui  f^eM  ton  n     I 


irned;  s. 


1   fres 


thing, 

pillory,    it  does 


of  the  tgg 

My  tiicetioua  fnend  Donbar  I  n  nuld  wiah 
tilso  to  he  a  2Wtakcr;  not  Co  digest  his 
spleen,  for  that  he  laughs  off,  bnt  to  digctt 
his  last  ni^ht^s  wine  at  the  last  field-day  of 
the  Crochallan  corps.  (78] 


fcl^lon 

c  of  tlie  deuest  of  them— Can- 

its 

(77)      The    hmlaliiy,    insolence 

mess  of    a  world    imworthy    ol 

having  s 

ck  a  fellow  as  he  is  in  it,  1  know 

sticks  in 

his  stomach,  and  if  you  can  lielp 

him  to 

nything   that  will    mate  iiim  a 

little  casi 

ec  ou  that  score,  it  wilt  he  very 

Obli^llg. 

honest  John    Somerville,    he   is 

ntentcd.luippy  man,  that  I  know 

not  what 

con  annoy  him,  except,  perhaps, 

he  may  n 

t  have  got  the  better  of  a  parcel 

anecdotes  which  a  certain  podt 

T?J?. 

one  ni^t  at  supper,  the  last  time 

Though  I  have  mentioned  so  many  men 
of  law,  I  shall  have  nothing  to  do  with 
themprofcsaionaHy;— thefacalty  arc  beyond 
my  prescription.  As  to  their  chents,  that 
is  anotlicr  tiling;  God  knows,  they  have 
much  to  digest ! 

ITie  clergy  I  paaa  by ;  their  profundity 
of  erudition,  and  their  liherjility  of  senti- 
ment, their  total  want  of  pride,  and  tli^r 
detestation   of  hypocrisy,  are   so   pi»jver- 

ntion  a  man  of  worth. 


TO  ME.  GEORGE  IX)CKHAET. 

MovchliHe.  Julji  18(4, 1783. 

Mv  DeAa  Sib— I  am  just  gtang  for 
Nithsilale,  else  I  would  certainly  have 
transcnhed  some  of  my  rhyming  things  for 
you.  Ths  Miss  Baillica  I  have  seen  in 
Edinburgh.  "  Fsitt  and  lovely  are  thy 
works.  Lord  God  Almighty!  Who  would 
not  praise  thee  for  these  thy  gifts  in  thy 
goodness  to  the  sons  of  men  1  "  It  needed 
not  your  fine  taste  to  admire  them,  I 
declare,  one  day  I  had  the  honour  of  dinbg 
at  Mr.  Baillie's,  I  mis  almost  in  the  pre- 
dicament of  the  children  of  ifrael,  when 
they  could  not  k»k  on  Moses'  face  for  the 
glory  that  shone  in  it  wheu  hs  descended 
Irum  Mount  SiuaL 

1  did  once  write  a  poetic  address  from  Che 
Falls  of  Bruar  to  liis  Grace  of  Atbole,  when 
1  was  in  the  Highlands.  When  yon  return 
to  Scotland,  let  me  knoir,  end  I  irill  send 
such  of  my  pieces  as  please  myself  best. 


TO  MBS.  DUNLOP. 
Maiurhlitie,  Auguel  2tid,  1738. 
HoMonBBD  Madam— Your  kind  letter 
welcomed  me,  yesternight,  to  Ayrahu^  I 
am,  indeed,  seriously  angry  with  you  at  the 
quantum  of  your  Inckpenuy ;  hut,  vexed  and 
hurt  as  1  was,  I  could  not  help  laughing  very 
heartily  at  tlie  noble  lord's  apoli^y  for  the 

Hould  wtil«  you  from  Nithsdale,  and 
you  tny  direction  there,  but  I  have 
B  an  opportunity  of  calhng  at  a  post — 
oKico  once  in  a  fortnight,  I  am  sis  miles 
from  Dumfries,  am  scarcely  ever  in  it  myadf, 
a  yet,  have  little  ao^uaiatance  in  the 


Ho,t,db,  Google 


TO  MRS.  UUNLOP. 


irfglibourhood.    Bcsi 


interDleddleth  nut  (Imrenitli."    T)ie  tepos 
tory  of  these  "sorrows  of  the  heart"  is 

Baued  limes,  wlio  duea  enter  into  tlieui : — 

H«aven  oft  tear 

That  Dscure  finest  strung. 
Tan  ivill  excuse  this  quotation  tar  the 
sake  of  the  aothor.  Instead  of  enteriog  ot 
this  suhject  farther,  I  shull  transcribe  you  i 
few  hues  I  wrote  in  B  iiermitage,  belouKing 
to  B  gentleman  m  my  Nitlisilale  neishlHini- 
hood.  They  are  ulmost  the  only  faroon  the 
muses  hava  conferred  on  me  la  that  country. 

Since  I  am  in  the  vty  of  tranictibin^,  the 
folloning'  were  the  production  of  yesterday, 
as  1  io^;ed  through  the  wild  lulla  of  Neir 
Cumnock.  I  intend  inserting  them,  or 
something  like  them,  in  aa  e^tle  I  am 
going  to  wnte  to  the  gentleman  on  whose 
friendship  my  Emse  Lojiea  dcpeud,  ill, 
Graham  of  Fintry,  one  of  the  worthiest  and 
most  accomplished  gentlemen,  not  only  of 
this  coHuiry,  hut,  I  will  dare  to  say  it,  ot 

crude    thnogliCs  "unhousel'd,    onaiiointcd. 


Instinct's  a  bmte  and  sent 

■Who  make  poor  wil  do  wa, 

We  own  they're  prudent 

they're  good? 

i  li 

Ye  wise  ones,  hence !  yehu 
God's  image  rudely  etch'd 

the  social  eyl 
on  iMse  alloy 

Here  the  muse  left  me. 
■t  what  you  tell  mo  of  j* 

1  am  astonia 

TO  MR,  WILLl.^JI  CRUIKSIIANKS, 


1  shall 


1  sluill  b< 


days,  or  perhaps  three  ii 
discuss  matters  viiid  voce.  My  biee,  I 
beliece,  will  never  be  entirely  well ,  and  an 
nuludiy  fall  tliis  whiter  has  made  it  still 
worse.  I  well  letoembcc  the  circumsuuice 
yon  allude  to,  tespectiog  Creech's  opinion 
of  Mr.  Nicol;  but  as  the  line  genilemaa 
owes  me  still  about  Hfiy  pounds,  i  dare  imt 
meddle  in  the  affair. 

It  gave  me  a  lery  heavy  heart  to  read 
Buch  accounts  of  the  consequence  of  your 
quarrel  with  that  puriiauio,  rotten-hearted. 


n  prival 


pover,  what  ruiu  may  he  not 
uniif!  DU  some  others  I  could  name  ? 

Many  and  happy  returns  of  season  to 
you,  with  your  iesrett  and  worthiest  friend, 
and  the  lovely  little  pledge  of  your  bappy 
union.  May  the  great  Author  of  hib,  aud 
ot  every  enjoymeul  that  can  reuder  Ufe 
diilightful,  make  her  that  comfortable 
"      ■       ■    you  both,  which  you  so  ardently 


h  tor.  ai 


which,  b1 
el     Glaoi 


er  the  foi 


UuUke  sag^  proverb'd  wisdom's  hard-wrung^ 

Let  Pradence  number  o'er  each  sturdy  son, 

Who  life  and  wisdom  at  one  race  begun. 

Who  feels  by  reason  and  who  gives  by  rule. 


TO  MRS  DTJNLOP. 
Moiicliliue,  Angitst  lOth,  1738. 
r  MUCH  HONOUBED  Pkiend — Yours 
of  the  24th  June  is  before  me.  I  found  it. 
as  well  as  another  valued  friend— my  wife— 
ig  to  welcome  me  to  Ayrshire :  I  met 
both  with  the  sincerest  pleasure. 

When  I  write  you.  Madam,  I  do  not  lit 


„  Google 


COREESPONDENCE  OF  TiURSS. 


iown  to  snswer  everj  paragraph  at  yotirs,  by 
eehoing  every  leiitiment,  like  tli«  faithful 
Commons  of  Great  Btiiain  in  Parliament 
assembled,  auawe rii^  B  speech  from  the  beat 
of  kings !  I  express  myself  in  the  fulness 
of  my  Keatt,  and  may,  perhaps,  be  goiJcy  of 
uej^lecting  some  of  your  lujid  jiiquiriea ;  hut 
iiot  from  yont  Tery  odd  reesou,  that  I  do  not 
Tead  yonr  lettera.  All  yonr  epistles  for  sev- 
eral mouUi  have  cost  me  nothing,  except  a 
swelling  throb  of  gnititade,  or  a  deep-felt 


to  risit  my  girl.    The  usual 
began  to  betray  her ;  and  as  I 

IS  turned,  literally  turned,  out 


i  cnn  easily  fancy  a  more  a"reealile  ia>iu- 
paniou  for  toy  journey  of  life  j  hut,  upon  my 


tercd  ii 


ttuthorfl,  &C.,  w 


It  probably 


entailing  i 

tatioQ,  with  all  the  othe'r  bleised'boatding- 
Bchool  dcqairementi,  which  fpardtiaiiix  nai, 
JUadttiae}  are  sometimeH  to  he  fonnd  tunoug 
females  of  the  upper  ranks,  but  almost  uni- 
Tersally  pervade  the  misses  of  tie  would-be 
gentry. 

I  like  yonr  wav  in  your  ehatchyard  lucu- 
brations. Thoughts  that  are  the  aponta- 
neous  result  of  accidental  atuations,  either 
respecting  health,  place  ot  company,  have 
often  a  strength,  and  always  an  originality, 
that  \rould  in  vain  be  looked  for  in  fiinaed 


[Stances  and  atuilied  paragraphs.    For 
bave  often  thought  of  keeping  a  letter. 


in  progression  by  m^ 

I  must  tell ; 
on  paper  of 


Nowltalkofshee 
1,  my  reason  toi  writing  to  y 
IS  kind  is  my  pmriency  of  w 


V  page  of  post  is  on 
w-muided  scale,  tliat 
i   and  double  letters. 


TO  THE  S.4ME. 
EUialaml.  Anipist  16!S,  1788. 


Why  droops  my  heart  witli  fancied  voea 

^Vby  sinks  my  aoni  beneath  each  wintry  sky  ? 

.  increasing  eares  in  this,  as  jet,  stranga 
country— gloomy  cotijeciures  in  the  daik 


irity— 


.s  of  ni 


iiiabdity  for  the  siruggie  i ._ ., 

children ; — 1  coukl  iodnlge  these  reBcctious, 
ttll  my  humour  should  ferment  into  the  most 
acid  chagrin,  that  wonld  corrode  the  »ery 
thread  of  life. 

To  GDiuiCciwork  these  baneful  feeli:^,  I 
a  I  declare 


upon 


oul  I  alwB 


ireiga  balm  for  my  ifounded  spirit. 

for  the  Urst  time.  My  reception  was  quite 
to  my  mind :  from  t^e  lady  of  the  house 
quite  ILitlering,  She  sometimes  hits  on  a 
couplet  or  two,  mprompls.  Bhe  repeated 
oaeor  two  to  the  admiration  of  all  present. 
My  suffrage  as  a  professional  man  was  ex- 
pected ;  it  for  once  went  agonising  over  the 
belly  of  my  conscience-  Fuxlon  me,  ye,  my 
adored  household  gods,  independence  of  epi- 
rit,andiut^:rityofsonl!  Inthecourseofcon- 

coHection  of  Scottish  songs  with  tlie  nniMC, 
vas  talked  of  We  got  a  song  on  the  horp- 
sicbord,  beginning. 

Baling  winds  around  het  blowing. 


The  old  Scot 
ig's  caff  is  hett. 
was  going  to 


Hosted  by  Google 


IS  b,  .1. 


old    1 


After  all  t) 
tide  of  theqn 
tappy  treatu: 
Bdected  tea, 

wlioee  Bouls  ute  tuiicd  to  gladuess  i 
riches,  atui  hr.nonrs,  and  prudence  and 
dom,    1  apeak  of  the  neglected  many,  »1 

to  the  miuioni  o(  fortune. 

If  E  thought  you  had  never  Been  i 
vould  transcribe  for  you  n  slanza  of  an 
BcottiBh  ballad,  called  "  The  Life  and  Age  o 
Hau;'^  beginning  thus : — 
Twas  in  the  aiiteetith  huoiltedth  year 

Of  Ood  and  Mty-three 
Taie  Christ  was  born,  tliat  bought  ua  dear, 

As  Kridags  testitie. 

I  had  an  old  grand-uncle,  with  whom  m; 
mother  hved  a  while  in  her  girliah  years 
the  good  old  man,  to!  such  be  na;,  was  lonj 
bUnd  ere  he  died,  during  which  time  hii 
highest  enjoyment  was  to  ait  down  and  cry, 
while  my  mother  would  aing  the  sjmplo  old 
sonj5  of  "  Tha  lite  and  Ajte  of  Man." 

It  is  tills  way  of  thinkingj  it  ia  these 
melancholy  truths,  tlinl  luuke  religion  so 
'  a  poor,  miserable  cliildre 


Ellls/ond,  Sept.  9M,  1733. 
Hv  Dear  Sib — Tliere  is  not  in  Edin- 
burgh ahote  the  number  of  the  graces  «hoso 

pleasure  as  yours  of  the  3td  inataut,  ahi^ 

■Illy  reached  nie  yesternight 
I  am  here  on  my  farm,  busy  with  my 

larvest ;   but  for  all  that  mosE  pleaaurable 
part  of  life  called  KOCiAI  ^' 


.    Ifit 


ting  only    i 


any  degree  of  perfectioi 


>us  but  good-natured  hiuay  of  a  : 

BybauksofNithlantandwi 

When  Colin  I  thought  on, 


ly  he-eobwebbed  lyve,  much  ii 


heart  alwayi  give  the  cold  ptailosophisinga 
the  lie.  Who  looka  for  the  heart  weaned 
from  earth;  the  aoul  alBanced  to  her  God; 
Ilie  correspondence  fixed  with  heaven ;  tbe 
pioua  supplioLtion  and  devout  thanksgiving. 


pottance  and  diiiue  eKicacy,  we  muat  search 
among  the  obacure  recesaes  of  disappoint- 
ment, afHiction,  poverty,  and  distress. 

I  am  aure,  dear  Mad^un,  you  are  now 
more  than  pleased  with  the  lengtli  of  my 
letters.  I  return  to  Ayrshire  niidille  oC 
next  week;  and  it  quietens  my  pace  to 
think  tiiat  there  will  be  a  letter  fVom  you 


E.  B. 


■  other  grave  Chria- 

aelliah  gratiflcatiou 

of  my  own  ffeeUngs  wbeuover  I  think  of  you. 

H  would  give  you 

3idd  be  eitreniely 

happy ;  that  b  to  any,  if  you  neither  keep 

nur  look  for  a  regular  eorrespoudBnce.    t 

bate  the  idea  of  being  obliged  to  write  a 

ter.    1   sometimes  write  a  friend  twice 

reek,  at  other  times  onee  a-quarter. 

[  am  eweediugly  pleased  with  your  &ncy 

making  the  author  yon  mention  place  a 

p  ol  Iceland  uistcad  of  his  portrait  before 

irorks :  twas  a  glorious  idea. 

Sould  you  conveniently  do  me  one  thing  ? 

ivhenever  you  finish  any  head,  I  should 

'"  '^ proof  copy  of  it.    I  might  tell 


a  long  s 


at  every  body  kno' 


Ho,t,db,  Google 


CORRESPONDENCE  OF  BUEyS. 


TO  MI, 


LT,MER3,  EDINBUEfiH. 


Ellisland,  near  Saw/r^i,  Sfpl.  ICIS,  1738. 
Whgsg  ire  fan?  and  hovBrejou?  snd 
ia  Lady  Itlackciuie  remverlug  her  beaUh? 
for  I  have  had  but  one  solicarj'  letter  from 
yon.  I  will  not  thiuk  you  have  forgot  me, 
Z&dam  i  and,  for  my  part— 

Wlien  tliee,  Jernsalem,  1  forget. 
Skill  put  fcoin  my  right  haiul  I 
"My  heirt 


19  that  s£ 


e  my 


amoi^  its  leflnvi-B — rolling  through  the 
crovd  witliout  liciitin;  away  any  mark  or 
impression,  eiLcept  where  they  hit  in  hostile 
coUiaioo. 

I  am  here,  driven  in  uitb  my  horvesl^folls 
by  bad  weather ;  and  as  you  and  your  sister 
onee  did  me  the  honour  of  iulcre^ting  your- 
aelvea  much  h  I'eifard  de  ntoiy  I  sit  down  to 
beg  the  continuD^on  of  your  goodness.  1 
can  truly  say  that,  all  the  exterior  of  Ufa 

rt,  I  never  saw  two  whose  esteem  Battered 
noble  feelings  of  my  aonl— I  will  not 
■07  more,  but  an  much,  na  l£dy  Maokensie 
and  Mias  Chalmers.  Wttea  I  think  of  you 
— hearts  tlie  beat,  minds    the  noblest  of 

shades  of  life— when  I  think  I  have  met 
wilh  you,  and  have  Uved  more  of  teal  life 
with  yoa  in  «ght  days  llinn  I  can  do  with 
ilmost  any  body  I  meet  with  iu  dsshc  years 
■~^rhen  1  think  on  the  improhuhiUty  of 
meetir^  you  m  this  world  again — I  could 
ait  down  and  cry  Uke  a  cliild  I  U  ever  you 
honoured  me  with  a  place  in  your  esteem,  I 
trust  1  cau  now  plead  more  desert.  1  am 
■e  against  tliat  emsliiug  grip  of 


poverty,  which,  alas  1  ia  less  or  more  btal 
to  the  natiie  worth  and  purity  of,  1  fear, 
the  noblest  aouls ;  and  a  late  importaat  step 
in  my  life  has  kindly  token  me  out  of  the 
way  of  those  uiigrHleful  iniquities,  which, 
however  overlooked  in  fashionable  licence, 
or  varnished  in  fashiiuiable  phrase,  are 
indeed  bat  l^htci  and  deeper  sliadea  i^ 


Shortly  after  my  last 
1  married  "my  Jean." 
eonsequence  of  the  atii 


and  much  loved 


audi 


le  got  the  baadsoi 


figure,  the 

constitution,  and  Clie  kindest  heart,  in  the 
county.  Mrs.  Buma  behevea,  as  firmly  sa 
her  creed,  that  I  sm  h  plus  bel  espirit,  et 
Is  piss  homilte  homme  in  tlie  universe ; 
although  she  scarcely  ever  in  her  Ufe,  eic«pc 
the  Scripturea  rf  the  Old  and  New  Tesla- 


f  David 


[uette. 


1.  1  must  except  also  from  this'  Inst 
in  late  puhlicaiion  of  Scots  poenu, 
alie  has  jierused  very  desoutly ;  and 
ballads  in  the  country,  as  she  has 
a  partial  lover  I  you  will  cry)  the 
■'wood  note  wild"  I  ever  heard.  I 
e    more   particular   i 


e  will  h 


;furth 


icaUdfl'ith  smoke.    I 


only  preserved 
ath    by    beuig 

i  taught  to  ei> 

aonns  uatgaiu.  lou  wiu  he  pleased  to 
hear  thiil  I  have  kid  aside  idle  4clat,  and 
bind  every  day  ofter  my  reapers. 

of  at  any  time  going  down,  in  a  losing 
ba^iun  o(  a  farm,  to  misery,  I  have  taken 

mission  in  my  pocket  for  any  emergeucy  of 
fortune.  If  I  could  set  all  before  my  liew, 
whatever  disrespect  you,  in  comm^^  witli 
the  worid.  have  for  this  huaineaa,  I  know 
you  would  approve  of  my  idea. 

I  will  mute  no  apology,  dear  Madam, 
far  tlua  egotistio  detail ;  S.  knoir  you  and 
your  sister  will  be  mterested  in  every  or. 
cnmstance  of  it.  'K'hat  signify  tlio  silly, 
idle  gewgaws  of  wealth,  or  the  ideal  truio- 
pery  of  greatness !  When  fellow-partakers 
of  the  same  nature  fear  the  aaine  Uod,  have 
the  same  benevolence  of  heart,  the  s^ne 
nobleness  of  soul,  the  same  detestation  at 
every  thing  dishonest,  and  tho  some  scorn 
at  every  tiling  unworthy— if  they  are  not 


as  of  their  aouls  run  the  same  way,  why 

When  I  have  an  opportimity  of  sending 
you  this,  Heaven  only  knows.    Sheustone 


Ho,t,db,  Google 


TO  MRS,  DUNLOP. 


EBys,  "When  one  is  confined  idle  within 
doora  by  bad  weather,  the  best  antidote 
agoinst  etmui  is  to  read  the  letters  o^  or  to 

yoa  half  a  quite. 

I  very  lately — to  wit,  lunce  han'eat  began 


lanner,  of  Pojie's  Moral  EpiBllps.   It  is  only 

I'use'a  pinion  ui  that  way.  I  wUrsend  jou 
txipj  at  it,  when  once  I  have  heard  from 
ou.  I  have  likewise  been  laying  the 
innflation    of   soms    pretty    large    poetic 


TO  MR.  MORRISON,  M  AUCilLINE.  (78) 
Ellialand,  Seplemier  22nd.  178a 
My  Deak  Sik— Kecessity  obliges  me  to 
Ered.    I  will  iTdiabit  the  one  enil  until 


•e  other 


About 


;of  hi 


a  litt 


:  and  ra 


on,  I  leave  to  that  grei 

of  pmjeCtS TIME.      Joiiuauu  9  UUJeuuuu  ui 

(!cots  songs  is  goin^  on  in  the  third  volume; 
and,  of  consequence,  finds  me  a  cousumptiou 
tor  a  greit  deal  of  idle  metre.  One  of  the 
laoat  tolerable  tilings  I  hare  done  in  that 

musical  gentleman  of  my  aeqnointancc  com- 


kinduess  iroiUd   have   tescued   ; 

future  stales  of  uutiicd  bein;;— get  the 

out  in  tlie  he^'inniug  of  neit  week  for  II 
"'         ^  lo  Mrs,  JMurriso 


im,   sfKC 


1  may  allow  your 
te  between  the  two. 
e  thin  the  old,  kind, 


^nd 


...3  of  my  unstudied  and  uncorrectible 
prnae,  I  shal)  tranacnbe  you  aoiue  of  my  late 
poetic  bagatelles ;  though  I  have,  these 
eight  or  ten  months,  done  very  Utile  that 
nay.  One  day,  in  a  hernuta^  on  the  banks 
of  Nith.  belonging  to  a  gentleman  in  my 
neighbourhood,  aho  is  so  good  as  give  me  a 
key  at  pleasure,  I  wrote  as  follows,  suppos- 


habita 


self  the 
^ofth 


TO  URa  dt:nix>p,  of  dunlop. 

llmiMim,  S^p!.  21lh,  178a 

thuH  once ;  but  scarcely  ever  with  more  plea- 
sure than  »be"  I  received  yours  of  the  lath 
instant.  To  make  myself  uiideralood ;  Ihad 
wrote  to  Mr.  Graham,  enclosing  my  poem 
nililresfled  to  him,  and  the  aame  post  which 
favoured  mo  with  yours  brought  nie  an  an- 
swer from  him.  It  was  dated  tlie  very  day 
he  had  receive.1  mnie;  and  I  am  quite  at  a 
loss  to  say  whether  it  was  most  polite  o( 
kind. 

YouT  critidsms,  my  honoured  benefactrea^ 
are  truly  the  work  of  a  friend.  'I'hey  are  not 
the  blastii^  depredations  of  a  canker- toothed, 
caterpDlar  critic  i  nor  are  they  the  fair  state- 
ment of  cold  unpartiaUty.  balancing  with 
nnfeeUng  esaetituje  the  jiro  and  coa  of  an 
author's  merits ;  tlicy  are  the  judicious  ob- 
servations of  animated  friendship,  eelectiuj 
tlie  beauties  of  the  piece.  I  am  jnst  arrived 
from  Nithsdale,  and  will  he  here  a  fbrtuighfc 
I  was  on  horseback  this  monung  by  three 
['clock ;    for  between  my  wife  and  my  farm 


■3  I  joffi 


may  hither  lead,"  &c 


the  dark,  I  was  taken  with  a  poetic  fit  as 
follows: 
"  Mrs.  Fei^eson  of  Craigdarroeh's  lamen- 


Ho,t,db,  Google 


neiCUcr  b 


COTIRESPOSDENCE 
onr  poeHe  rambles. 


e  fault  yon  found  is  juet,  bnt  '. 
a*e  mvselt  in  on  emendation. 
.  life  of  BOliciHiLle  »  tlie  life  of  1 


TO  MR.  PETEE  HILL. 

MsacUba,  Ocloier  ls(,  1738. 
iTEi  been  bcre  in  this  country  about 


you  were  bo  obbgiog 
Were  I  impBOiielled  o 


jary,  to  dele 

uiiiie  Ills  crimiuality  lenpectiiig 

tlie  sin  of 

oesy,    my  verdict  should  be 

"Guilty!  A 

wetofuature's.nald.el"  It  is 

rtatlbeliev 

every  poet  does,  to  place  some 

sic  nntjior  iu  hjs  own  walks  of 

Hndy  mid  c 

)inpo3i[ian,    belore  him  a«  a 

muLlel.    'fiio 

gh  your  author  liad  not  men- 

tioued  tlie  < 

nme,  I  could  hai-c,  at  half  a 

led  his  model  to  be  Tlioinson. 

Will  my  brc 

iher-poet  fortfive  me,  If  I  icu- 

lki.1,  liis  imitaiiou  otthitiiii- 

loortal  bard 

in  t«0  or  three  places  «lto 

Diore  servile 

Chan  such    a  t-«>iua   u  his 

quired  :^ 

3- 

To  >ootl,e  t 

be  maddening  passions  all  to 

To  soothe  the  throbbing  passions  iriKi  peace. 

I  tbink  til 

e  "Address"  is  in  simplicity, 

elegance  of  versilioation,  fully 

^"^h"'- 

SeasDns."    like  Thomson,  too. 

Lebas  looked  into  nature  for  himself:  you 

copied  descripik™.     One  pai^ 

ticular  critic 

BURNS. 

no  one  instance  has  be  said  too  much.     He 

jKiet  of  Nuiure'a  mi^in);,    kindles    in  his 
course.    His  tepiiniiig  is  simple  and  moflest, 

only  I  do  uot  altogether  like — 

Truth, 

The  soul  of  every  song  that's  nobly  great 

Fiction  is  the  soul  of  many  a  song  that  ii 

phniBe  iu  line  7,  page  6,  "  Great  lake,"  too 
iery-day  language  for 


etio.    Every  teadcr'a  ideal 
n  of  an  hundred  miles. 


th  ftequent  streaks  of  moving 
X  to  the  storm,  "  the  glens 


my  opi 


bright,"  to  entertain  her 
ar,"  ia  a  pretty  thought. 

lie  poem  are  the  fowls 
II  ivintry  toils,  to  LocWomond'a 
^  flood;"  tbeir  wheeling  round, 
ig,  mimg,  diving,  &0. :   and  ths 


Hoaoin,  Google 


TO  THE  EDITOR  OP  THE  "COUEANT." 
iirioua  deacription  of  the  sportsmi 


H5t,  honever,  mention  that  the  hiat 
the  eiiteenth  po^e  is  one  of  the 
!j!»iit  cumphments  I  have  erer  set    . 
uat  hkevci^e  notice  that  beautiful  parajiTaph 
ipnrang  "The  gleaming  lake,"  &o.    '" 
rC  go  into  the  particular  beauties  of  th 
'0  para^n^phs,  but  the;  are  adminibly  fine, 

I  must bej;  your  pardon  for  this  lengthened 
rawi.  I  had  no  idea  of  it  when  I  began : — 
ihould  like  to  know  who  the  author  ia ;  bat, 
loever  he  be,  please  present  him  with  my 
iti-ful  tliaidii  for  the  entertainment  he  has 


and  "'Hie  World  Uiiir 
rhcr  the  gceateat  Cl.i 
by  the  first 


a  philoaophei 


Bud  gloomy     .... 

nature — the  prindple  of  uniTersal  seHiahneaa, 

the  proneueaa  to  ^1  evil,  thef  have  given  us 

to  the  dlatiessed,  or  insolence  to  the  fallen, 
«re  held  by  all  mankind,  ahowa  that  they  art. 
not  nativea  of  the  human  heary  JSven  the 
unh^py  partner  of  our  kin^'ho  is 
— the  bitter  conaequejiee  "  ' '-  '""- 


We  forget  t 

I  went,  last  Wednesday,  1 


lined  profligate  brother? 


IP  the  conaequenl 
Levolntion.  To 
vre  no  leas  than  a 


liberiiea.  rasll  and  reli- 


presenl  royal  family,  the  ruluig  fcatntea  o( 
whose  administration  iiave  erer  been  mild- 
ness to  thp  Bul(ject,  and  tenderness  of  his 
righta. 

Breil  and  educatedin  revolution prindples, 
the  principles  of  reason  luiil  common  sense, 
it  coidd  not  be  any  ailly  pi ' 


the  reverend  gen- 
tTemuu  mentioned  the  House  of  Stuart,  and 
which,  1  am  afraid,  waa  too  much  the  Ian. 
gTiagflof  (heday.  We  msy  rejoice  sufficiently 
in  OUT  deliverance  ftoui  past  evils,  without 
cruelly  raking  np  the  ashes  of  those  whose 
misfortime  it  was,  perhaps  as  much  as  their 
crime,  to  he  the  authors  of  those  evils ;  and 
Ood  for  all  his  goodness  to  us 


withon 


ould  ha 


les,  who 


I  done,  h^  w 


The  bloody  and  tyrannies]  Hoaae  of 
irt"  mny  ba  siud  with  propriety  and 
ice,  when  compared  with  the  preaent 
il  thmily,  and  the  aentiments  of  ourdaya; 
ia  there  no  allowance  to  be  made  for  the 
,ners  of  the  times?      Wei-e  the  royal 

ibjecta*  righta?    JMight   not  the 

f  "bloody  and    tyrannical"  he, 

L  least  equal  juatice,  applied  to  the 

of  Tudor,  of  York,  or  any  other  of 


lithet! 


te  of  the  t 


be  thi: 

Svemment,  tlie  knowledge  of  the 
ion  between  king  and  aubjeet,  v 


I  inftiicy,  emerging  from  di 

uce  and  barbarity. 

'Ilie  Stututsonly  contended  for  prerogative) 
which  they  knew  their  predecessors  eqjoyed, 
and  which  they  saw  their  contemporaries 

ijoyiog;  but  these  prerogatives  were  ini. 

ical  to  the  happineaa  of  a  nation  and  tha 
rights  of  anbjects. 

'■-  "his  contest  between  prinea  and  peo- 
B  consequenee  of  that  li^ht  of  snencu 
had  laMly  dawned  over  Europe,  the 
monarch  of  France,  for  eiample.  waa  licto. 
nous  over  the  Btmm;hni  Uberties  of  his 
people :  with  ns,  Inckily,  the  monarch  thiled, 

sacrifice    tt 


I  „  Google 


COREESPOSDENCE  OF  BUilHS. 


■Whether  it  was  owing  to  the  madom  of 
Jeadiiig  individuals,  ot  to  the  joatling  of  pup- 
tiea,  luuinot  pretend  to  determine;  buCr 
liteMUe,  happily  for  us,  the  kingly  power  was 
ahifitd  into  anotlier  branch  of  the  family, 
vho,  B9  they  owed  the  throne  sold;  to  the 
call  of  a  free  people,  could  daim  notliing 
iiieonaisleut  with  the  ooveiiauted  terms 
ivLich  placed  them  there. 

'i'lie  EStuarts  have  beea  condemned  and 
Ban^hed  at  for  the  folly  and  impracticability 
of  thpir  attempts  in  1715  and  17M.  ITiat 
they  ma],  1  hkaa  Ood,  but  cannot  join  m 

kjiuw  tliiLi  the  abilities  or  defects  of  leaders 


a  the  touchstone  of  ei 


bidden  i 


;    ani  t1 


i  of  tortuue.  aa  omnipotence 


Man 


inci 


Lr.  Publisher,  is 


would  h 


traufri;  weak. 


liheniUly 

Bible  and  jealous  of  our  rights  and  liberties, 
and  atiiumted  vith  such  indignation  agaiust 
the  very  memory  of  timse  who  would  have 
subverted  them — tliac  a  certain  people  under 
our  uaLional  protecliou  should  complain,  not 
D'Miiat  our  monarch  and  a  few  fevonrite 

body,  for  simnar  oppression,  and  akiost  iu 
the  verv  same  terms,  as  onr  forefathers  did 

[its  of  rlie  case,  but  I 
in  Congress,  in  177B, 
sa  djle  and  as  enlighC- 


of  tlie  Ho 


ened  as  the  Englial 
I66S1  aud  that  their  posterity  wilt  cekbrat 
the  centenary  of  thdr  deliverance  from  u^ 
*s  duly  and  sincerely  as  we  do  outs  fVom  tli 
oppressive  messures  of  the  wrang-beade< 
Home  of  Stuart. 

To  conclude.  Sit ;  let  every  man  who  ba 

humanity,  feel  for  a  Eunily  illustrious  as  an; 
in  Europe,  and  unfortunate  beyond  bistori 
precedent ;  and  let  every  Briton  [and  par 
ticularly  every  Scotsman),  who  ever  lookci 
vith  revereotial  pity  on  the  dotage  of  1 
parent,  cast  a  veil  over  the  fatal  mistakes  0 
the  kings  of  his  foreftithers. 


TO    MRS.    DUNLOP, 

Mauchloie,  Nocemler  13ti,  173S. 
Madam— I  bad  the  very  great  pteasure 
if  dining  at  Dunlop  yesterday.  Men  are 
md  to  flatter  women  because  they  are  weak : 
—if  it  he  BO.  poets  must  be  wesier  still  ] 
I,  ajid  Miss  G.  U'K., 
!  artful 
,ead.    I 

insiuuationa  and  delicate 
liment,  that  if  it  had  not 
f  recoUeeliou  how  much 
and  Instie  your  good  opi- 


ir  flattering  a 
'  did  uot  larcl  n 


lark,  lest 


^lit  to  balance  my  oricntalisu 
e  over-agaiust  the  flncat  qucy  (79)  in 
hire  which  he  made  me  a  present  of  to 
and  adorn  my  flirm-atock.  As  it  was 
allnw-ilay,  I  am  determined  annually 
lat  day  tetunis,  to  decorate  her  horns 
an  ode  of   gratituiie    to    the  fiimQy 


Dnidop,  1  will  take  tl» 
dedicate  a  day,  or  pei 
friendalup,  under  the  gi 
hospitality.    'Ihers  -  - 


your  firiendsbip  and 
friendly  correspondence  areentwisted  with 
the  heart-struiga  of  my  inj  ijment  of  life,  I 
must  indulge  myself  iu  a  liappy  day  ot "  The 
feast  of  reasou  aud  the  llow  of  aouL" 

R.B. 


TO  MB.  JAMES  JOHNSON, 
ENGRAVER. 
MmcMine,  Noaember  15th,  1788. 


Hosted  by  Google 


TO  MIK.  DUSLOP, 


I  cad  etsilf  H 

II  probably  he 


Perlu^a 
lucratively 


poaCeriiy  Bill  look  oq  themselvKs  as  highly 
indebted  to  your  public  apitit.  Be  not 
in  g  huny ;  let  iia  go  on  correctly,  aud  your 
name  shall  be  imuiortal. 

I  am  prefiarin"  a  floming  prefece  for  your 
third  volume.  I  see  every  day  new  musical 
puhlieitioiis  advertised ;  hut  "hat  are  tiity  ? 
Liaudy,  painted  butterlliea  of  a  day,  and  then 
vanish  for  ever :  but  your  work  will  outlive 

defy  the  teeth  of  time. 

let  me  ti.oiv  a  fea'  of  her  qTialitiea,  such  es 
wlietlier  she  be  rather  black  or  f«ir.  plump 
or  thin,  short  or  tall,  &C, ;  Mid  clinose  your 
air,  and  1  ahall  task  my  muae  to  celebrate 


TO  DR.  BLiCKLOCK. 
Mauckline,  Noiiemier  15(A,  178S. 

ItEVERLiND  AHD   BnAa   SlK— A.B  I  liei 


s  may  find  you 
1  at  all  Iwrot 
ni  the  land  of 


find 


long  ktter,  dated 
any,  in  June ;  hut 
naa  not  touna  you,  or,  what  I  dread 
found  you  or  Mrs.  Blactlock  in  too 
'  '  !a!th  and  spirits  to 


of  Pope-a 


ice  of  an  idle  packt 

X  I  tiad  the  pleasui 
■e  finished  or  -  - 


tluiigs  ft 


John- 


il  Epistles;"  h 
Lce,  i  have  everything  to  fear, 
to  I  haie  only  wnt  you  two  melancholy 
thiugp,  which  I  tremble  lest  they  should 
too  Hell  suit  the    tone  of  your    present 

'""   "  '--■-' -^'  I  move,  hag  and  bagiage. 


n  Nichiidi 


;    till  then,  my  di 
fter  that  peri   '  ' 


!.  Itlacklodl, 
and  Miss  Johnston,  if  she  is  with  joa. 
1  cannot  conclude  without  telling  you  that 

took  respecting  "inyJean."  Two  things,  ftom 
my  happy  eipetience,  I  set  down  as  apo- 
phthegms in  life.  A  wife's  head  is  immaterial, 
eomp^^  with  her  heart ;  and — "  Virtue's 

ways  are  ways  of  pleasantness,  end  nil 
her  paths  are  peace."     Ailieu  1 


TO  JiaS,  DUNLOP. 

EilMmd,  December  nth,  178B, 

My  DeAd  Honourkd  Pkienh— Yours, 

dated  ICdiiilmigb.  which  I  hsie  Just  read, 

makea  nie  very  unhappy,      "Almost  blind 

a  much-loved  and  haiiouted  fnend;  they 
carry  misery  m  the  sound.  Goodness  on 
your  part,  and  gratitude  on  mine,  began  a 
tie  which  has  gradually  eulwisted  itiwlf 
amon^  [lie  ilearrat  chords  of  my  bosom,  and 
1  tremble  at  tlie  omens  of  your  late  and 
ibit  and  shattered  health. 


Youm 


I  widely,  when  you 

ig  on  yon,  lest  it  should 

n  luy  auriuiy  clmcem^    My  small  scale 

formiog  is  exceeiliugly  more  simple  and 

'hat  you  have  lately  seen  at 


a  aiau 


But, 


the  heart  ot  the  man  and  tlie  fancy  of  t£^ 
poet  are  the  two  grand  consideratioiia  loi 
which  I  live :  if  miry  ridgea  and  ditCy  dnngj 

functions  of  my  soul  immortal,  1  hod  better 
been  a  rook  or  a  magpie  at  once,  and  then 
1  should  not  have  been  pla(;ued  with  any 
ideas  superior  to  hteaking  of  clods  and 
picking  up  giuba; 


'hich  I  could  al 


Xa^'t  at 

it  will  ha  no  ^.ut  pIcasoK  (0  either  of 
us ;  but  if  1  hear  you  are  got  so  well  u^ 
aa  to  be  able  to  relish  conversation,  look 
you  to  it.  Madam,  for  I  will  make  my  threat- 
mings  good.  I  am  to.  be  at  tlie  New-yeai- 
lay  fiiir  of  Ayr :  and,  by  all  that  ii 
lacred  in  the  worl4  friend,  l.will  come  and 

Your  meeting,  which  you  so  well  describe, 
irith  your  own  adioolfellow  and  friend,  was 
truly  interesting.     Out  upon  the  ways  at 


Ho,t,db,  Google 


33S  COKaESPONDESCE  OF  B1JES3, 

ihe  vuld !  They  spoil  tliese  "  socinl  off- 
springa  of  the  heirt."  Two  veletaiis  of  the 
"men  of  the  ivorld"  would  h«™  met 
»itli  little  mnre  heatt-wotkinKS  than   two 


p03,  is  not  tlie  Scotch  phr 

gytie,"  exceedingly  eiprewive?    There  is  ail 

through  my  sold.  You  know  I  aiu  an 
euthusiasC  in  old  Scoldi  aoiigs.  I  Ehall 
give  you  the  vewea  on  the  other  sheet, 
■s  I  suppose  Mr.  Kei  will  sive  you  the 
postB^, 
Should  Huld  Bcquaintauca  ba  for^t  ?  £c. 
Ught  be  the  turf  on  the  hreast  of  the 
HetKu-inapiied  poet  nho  composed  this 
glorious  fragment  I    There  is  more  of  the 


wicli 


ly  caprice  than  the  delicacy  of  my  taste, 

often  tired,  disgusted,  and  hurt, 

sipidity,  affectBtiou,  and  pride  of 


"after  my  ooTi  heart,"  I  posiiively  feel  n-hat 
an  orthodox  Frolestaat  would  call  a  species 
of  idolatry,  whiiA  acts  on  my  ftncv  like  in- 


»ieh  0 


o  the  at 


tliough  the  object  which 
Srcy-hearded  age;  but  where  iny  tlieme  u 
yonth  and  beauty,  a  young  laily  whose  per- 
sonal charms,  wit  and  sentiment,  are  equally 
stnkingand  unaffected — byljenvensl  tiiuugh 
I  had  liied  threeacore  years  a  married  man, 
and  threescore  years  before  I  was  a  manicd 


and  I 


TO 

Mas  DAVIES. 

Becemb 

r>AM— I 
our,  Mr. 

nderslan 
Riddel, 

dmy  ve 
h.<  iufo 

There 


the  idea  of  being  the  harden  of  a  ballad,  that 
I  do  not  think  Job  or  Moses,  though  such 

Kttems  of  patience  and  meekness,  could 
ve  resisted  the  curiosity  to  know  what  that 
ballad  was;  so  my  wotUy  friend  has 
a  nuBChief, 


tended,  and  re 


ly  worthy  fri 
hich  r  dare 


unfort 


i  of  leaving  your  curiosity  uugra- 
ti&ed,  or  else  disgusting  you  wi^  foolish 
Tccses,  the  uiiGnidhed  production  of  a  ran- 
dim  moment,  and  neiet  meant  to  have  met 
your  ear,  I  have  heari  or  read  sonieirheFe 
of  a  gentleman  who  hud  come  ii:enlas,  mucli 
eccentricity,  and  very  considerahle  dcEterity 
with  his  pendL  In  the  accidental  group  of 
life  iuto  which  one  is  thrown,  wherever  this 
gentleman  met  with  s  character  ia  a  more 
thajl  ordinary  d^rec  congenial  to  his  heart, 
he  used  to  steal  a  sketch  of  the  face,  merely, 
he  said,  aa  a  nota  iene,  to  point  out  the 
agreeable  recollection  to  his  memory.  What 
this  geutleman's  pencil  was  to  him,  my  muse 
i*  to  me :  and  the  retscs  I  da  myself  die 


of  t( 


mintry  i> 


acally  1 . 


id,  by  consequence,  ouly  drunk  by  the 
most  rascally  port  of  Uie  i  1  ab  Can  3  I  am 
persuaded,  if  you  once  get  a  footing  bwe, 
you  might  do  a  great  deal  of  bosiuess,  iu  the 
wayofconsumpC;  and  ahonld  you  commence 
distillcf  a^ain,  thU  ia  tlie  native  barley 
country,  I  am  ignorant  if,  in  four  present 
way  of  dealing,  yon  would  Iliiiik  it  Torth 
'■'"  '"  eiteod  your  businesa  so  lar 


cake  the  merit  of  having  par.ly  di 


'very"  good  1 


ndll— a  m 


1  I  n 


0  hargaii 


were  in  my  house  Che 
time  I  broke  open  the  cask.  They  ke«i  a 
country  puhlic-house  and  sell  a  icreat  deal  of 
forei.-n  spnita,  hut 
whisky  would  liave  degraded  tl . 
They  were  perfectly  antouished  at  my  whisky, 
both  tor  ill  taste  and  strength;   mid,  by 


hoiighc  chat 


Hosted  by  Google 


TO  MRS.   PUSLOP. 


TO  THE   REV,  P.  CARPRAE. 


Mylnc  hs3  doue  me,  ireatly  enhanced  in  its 
value  by  rhe  eitd^riDu;,  though  iiicEdnchuly 

1  liave,  as  yau  hbit,  choii^lit  af  undm^  a 


ipliou-bills  for  Scot- 
iLued,  and  daily  do 


harvest  n'hich  fn 

rt-ai).    But  let  the  friends  of  Mr.  Mylue'i 

fume  (among     '         '  "     ' 


sve  the  h 
myself)   always  keep  in 
:3|iecbLl>Uity  ai  a  man  Dud  as  a  | 


aws  anything  al 
ne  and  charflrte 
Is  of  the  timea. 


^  desBed  w 


oe  expeneuc 
and  the  way  in  uhich  1  woald  proceed  wiiii 
Mr.  Mylae'3  poems,  is  this :— I  will  pulilish, 
in  two  or  Ihree  EiigliMb  and  Scottish  public 
papers,  any  one  of  his  Englisli  poems  which 
shonld,  by  privale  judges,  be  tboi^lit  the 


ent,  aud  m 


time,  as  oue  of  the  prodnctious  of  a  Lothian 
farmer  of  resiiectable  charaecer,  lately  de- 
ceased, whose  poecus  his  friends  had  it  in 

snks  of  his  numerous  family;  not  in  pity  to 
that  family,  but  in  justice  to  what  his  fiiends 
think  the  poetic  merits  of  the  deceased;  aud 


TO    SIRS.    DUNLOP. 

Eauiattd,  New-j/ettT-dai/  Sloni'isg,  17S9, 

This,  dear  Madam.isnraomii^ofwirfies. 

nd  would  to  God  thai  1  came  ander  Iha 

postle  J'ames's  dcscriptiail  I — t^  prayer  of 


I  own  myself  so  little  a  Presbyteri 


.achmei 


It  Suuday  of  May ;   a 

been  with  me  a  kind 
o  that  glori 


L  of  Mirs 


wsslied  myself  and  offered  up 
devotions,  I  ascended  the  liijjh  1 
iu  order  to  past  the  te>c  of  the 

after  havii^ 

I'^fBa^'^ 
daymmedi. 

tation  and  prayer." 

We  know  nothiug,  or  neit  t 
the  substance  ot  structure  of 

notli 

S2 

them,   that    one   should    be 
pleased  with  this  thing,  or  stru 
whkh,  on  mh.ds  of  a  difereu 

g  caprices  ia 
particularly 

Dk  with  that, 
cast,  makes 

Hoifdb,  Google 


fsroniiee  Amren  in  spring,  among  wliich  are 
thciDDuntaiu'dabyj  tbe  har«bell,  the  foxglove, 
the  trild-brisr  roae,  the  budiling  bach,  and 
the  hoarj  bBwChoni,  that  I  view  and  luing 
oi^r  with  particular  delight.    I  never  lieard 

Kummer  noon,  or  tlie  wM  misiiig  eailence  of 
t,  troop  of  grey  r''""*'  ■"  *"  autumnal 
moniiug,  without  feelmj  aa  elevation  of 
Boul  like  the  eiitliiuiaam  of  devotion  or 
poetry.  TeJJ  me,  iiij-  dear  friend,  to  wliat 
aa  thi!  be  owiiig*  Aro  we  a  piece  of 
mactiiuerj,  which,  like  the  .lEolinn  harp, 
passive,  takes  the  impression  of  tlie  passing 
acddent?  Or  do  these  workin^a  argue 
iomething  ahove  us  ahove  the  trodden  clod? 


TO  DR.  JIOORE. 


COUUESPON'DEXCE  OP  BURNS, 
press  I  put  olT  I  r 


every  week 

hCSB 

six  months,  i 

give 

me 

tomelhiiig  so  like  the  idea  of  a 

ocdi 

uu-y- 

fferi 

the  Rhoditti 

oolo 

sus,  that  my 

mind 

gices  me,  a^d  th 

1  purpose  and 

reaolv 

hare  at  hsl 

got 

Kinie  business 

with 

and  busiues. 

rs    are  wrilt 

«    by 

the 

^j 

with 

yon. 

Sii,fi«jou 

hal  any  with 

cept 

the  bmioess  il<at 

i>ene?olence  has  in 

.uofpo 


Tty. 


Ilie  character  and  employment  of  a  poet 
»ero  formerly  my  pleasure,  but  are  now  my 

C*  "e.  I  know  that  a  very  great  deal  of  my 
ecl&C  was  owing  to  the  singularity  of 
my  situation,  and  the  honest  prejudice  of 
BcoCtmeu ;  but  still,  as  I  said  iu  the  preface 
to  my  Ijrst  edition,  I  do  look  upon  myself 
aa  having  some  [iretensions  from  nature  to 
t^e  pot-jc  character.  I  have  not  a  doubt 
lint  the  knack,  the  aptitude,  to  learn  the 
muxes'  trade,  is  a  gift  bestowed  by  llim 

but  I  as  firmly  believe,  that  tMdlence  in  the 
profession  is  the  fruit  of  iudustry,  labour, 

aolved  to  try  my  doctrine  by  llie  test  of  ei- 
perieuce.     Another   appeuaoce   tVojn   the 


ve— but  poesy  I  am  de- 
ute  with  all  my  vj.-our. 
very  few,  if  any,  of  the 

enlso 
oasibl 

shining 
I  sliall 
to  know 

try  (for 
wliether 

judge,  h 


leasurc  llie  powers  of 

in.      Here    the    best 

a  friend—not  only  of 

good-nature 

is  exBClly  just,  lest  the  thin-skinned  animal 
fall  into  Ciiat  most  deplorable  of  all  poetic 
diseases — heart-breaking  drapondenoy  of 
himself,  Dura  I,  Sir,  already  immensely 
indebted  to  your  goodue^s,  ask  the  ad- 
ditional obligation  of  your  being  that  IHeud 
to  me?  1  enclose  you  an  essay  ot  mine,  m 
a  walk  of  poesy  to  me  entirdy  new ;  I  mean 
the  epistle  addressed  to  R.  0.,  Esq.,  or 
Robert  Graham,  of  Ilntry,  Esij.,  a  gentle- 

under  very  great  obligations.    The  story  of 

tlie  T>oein,  like  most  of  my  poems,  is  con- 

itii  my  own  story,  and  ti 


e,  Im 


t  give  you  1 


rf  the 


)f    Mr.  i 

ingennoas  fau  dealing  to  me.  lie  kept  lua 
hanging  about  Edinhurgli  from  the  Tth 
August,  irUT,  nntU  the  I3th  April,  ITSS, 
befiire  he  would  condescend  to  give  me  a 
statement  of  aJTsirs ;    nor  had  1  got  it  even 

whid)  irritated  his  pnde.    "  I  conid  "  not  a 

I,  that  should  speak  against  the  Lord^a 
anointed  Baillie  of  Edinburgh? 

I  believe,  I  shall,  in  whole,  £100  copy- 
r^ht  included,  cleu  about  £4U0  some  little 
odds ;  end  even  part  of  this  depends  upon 
what  the  gentleman  has  yet  to  settle  mth 

you  did  me  tlie  honour  to  interest  yourself 
much  in  my  wel&re.  I  give  you  this  in- 
formation, but  1  gire  iC  to  youndf  only,  fi» 
I  am  still  much  in  ttis  gentleman's  mercy. 
Perhaps  [  injure  the  i  '      ' 


forbid  I  should ! 


0  liave  ot  him— God 

ittle  time  will  try,  fur 

wind  up 


tne  Dusiness  if  possible. 

To  give  tlie  rest  of  my  atory  in  hi 

with  the  first  step  I  have  every  day 


Ho,t,db,  Google 


TO  PEOFESSOE  DOGALD  STEWART. 


from  Edinburgh,  it  cost  me  about  £180  to 
taie  tbem  from  ruin.  Nat  thst  I  bave  lost 
>o  mnch — I  only  intctposed  between  my 
brother  and  hia  impenduij  fote  by  the  loan 


balance  «a&  preit;r  heavily  charged,  and  1 
thpugbt  that  throwing  a  littlu  filial  piety 
and  fraternal  otfection  iiito  the  acale  in  my 


^ill  one  clxlng 

nis''sion.w't 
lisiMon.    My 


vould  moke  my  eirciimstanci 
I  have  an  Excise  olHcer's  com 
liTe  in  tlie  midst  of  a  country 
request  to  Mr.  Graham,  who 

to  procure  me  that  division. 
Huignine,  I  might  hope  that 
great  patrona  might  procure 
warrant  for  supervisor,  surveyi 
Thus,  secure  of  a  liveliho 
■veet  poetry,  delightful  maid,' 


TO  MK.  EOBERT  AINSUE. 

EUUUaid,  Jaaaars  6IA,  1789. 

Many  happy  returns  of  the  season  t 

you,  my  dear   Bir  I     May    you    be  com 

paratively  happy  up  I 

th  among  the  aona 


e  of  the  mi 


would,  1 
blest  uf  th 

I  do  not  know  it  passing  a  "  wiiter  to  th 
signet "  he  a  trial  of  scientilic  merit,  or 
more  basiness  of  friends  uid  iuteres 
However  it  be,  let  me  quote  you  my  tw 
fiironrite  passages,  whicli,  though  1  have  n 
petited  them  ten  thousaud  timi        '"    ' 


in  common  with  hundreds.  Bat  who  are 
they  ?    Men  like  yourself,  and  of  that  ag- 

them  eome  short  of  your  advantages,  natunl 
and  ocradental ;  while  two  of  those  that  re- 
blooming  in  a  desert,  or  mis-spend  th»r 
Btrengih  like  a  bull  goring  i  brambl«  hush. 


Its — The  enclosed  sealed  packet  I  sent  to 
Lubnrgh,  a  few  days  after  i  iiad  the  happi- 
s  of  meeting  you  in  Ayrshire,  but  you 
«  gone  fbr  the  continent.    I  have  m 


1  indebted  to 


B  Nitlisd 


loubly  in 


E.G.  Esq, 

Fintry,  accompanying  a  request  lor  his  as- 
wstance  in  a  matter  to  me  of  very  great 
To  that  gentleman  I  am  already 
lebted;  for  deeds  of  kindness  of 
impart  to  my  dearest  in 
iner  grateful  to  the  del 
ibfiity.     This  poem  is 


>e  my  last  essay  of  the  kind,  as  you 
'ly  tlie  "  Poet's  Progi'ess."    These 

of  the  intended  whole.    I  propase 


te  feelings 


iinpositir 


ripened  by  years ;  ofcour 
much  known.  The  fragm 
little  nprigbt.  pert,  t"  " 


«c„  I  have 


nine 

It  forms  the  postulate,  tlie  axioms,  the  ded- 
uition  of  a  charaeter,  shich,  if  it  appear  at 
all,  shall  be  placed  In  a  variety  of  lights. 
This  particular  part  I  send  you  merely  as  a 
sample  of  my  baud  at  portrait-sketehiug ; 
but,  lest  iiUe  conjecture  should  pretend  to 


point  out  the  original,  please  to  let  it  be  for 

your  single,  sole  iaspeiliou. 

Nei'd  1  make  any  apoli^y  for  this  trouble. 

n..  -n-- .  ...  V,.-|  1  ...  .   1... 

marked  benevolence  and  peculiar  kindness  i 

YooNa. 

who  has  entered  into  my  interests  with  so 

Hear,  AifVed,  hero  of  the  state 

much  leal,  and  on  whose  critical  decisions  I 

Thy  gciuus  heaven's  hij;h  ;riH  declare; 

can  so  fully  depend  P    A  poet  as  I  am  by 

The  tiiiimph  of  the  truly  great. 

trade,  these  decisions  are  to  me  of  the  last 

Is  never,  never  to  despair! 

Ii  never  to  despair.-ifiaaue  >ifAl/rtd. 

Boce  among  some  of  (he  mnre  rank  and  file 

Hoifdb,  Google 


COSEISPONDENCE    OF  1 


Tlie 


g.Iahallev 


(6  genius 


1  Mr.  Stewart'i 
justice  (iron  justice,  for  he  has  do  bowels  of 
compagsion  foe  s  poor  gwetie  gurnet)  of  D> 
Gre^ry^s  remarlf^,  and  the  delicacy  of  Vnt 
fcssor  Dalzel's  taste,  I  shall  ever  revere. 

I  shall  be  in  Edinburgh  some  time  nei 
montli.  I  have  the  iionour  to  be,  Sir.  yoni 
high!)'  obliged,  and  lery  humble  servant. 


TO  BISHOP  GEDDES.  (82) 

Ellklaad.  Feb.  3rd,  178 
Vehesablb   Father — As  I  sm 
seious  that,  wherever  I  am,  you  do  me 


honoii: 


rives  me  pleasure  to  inform  you,  that  I  ar 


e  great  end  iinportauc 


T71,  the  conduct  of  the 


justify,  I  must  have  been   a  tool  to  haxe 
lieaitated,  and    a   madman  to  haie  made 

I  had  a  high  esteem  before  I  knew  him 

an  esteem  which  has  much  increased  si 

another  choice.    Besides,  Ihadin  "my  Jean" 

I  did  know  him ;    and  this  caveat  enterec 

a  long  and  mucli-loved  fellow-creature's  hap- 

sbull plead  guilty  to  an;  other  indictmi 

piness  or  misery  among  my  haudu,  and  who 

with  whicli  you  shall  please  to  cbm^  me 

Conld  trilie  with  such  a  deposit  ? 

After  t  parted  from  you,  for  many  mon 

In  the  affair  of  a  livelihood,  I  thmk  myself 

tolerably  secure :  I  have  good  hopes  of  my 

tlOD.    Here,  at  last,  I  am  become  stntiona 

ftrm  :  hut  should  they  fail,  I  have  on  Excise 

and  have  taken  a  farm  and-a  wife. 

vill  at  any  time  procure  me  bread.    There  is 

The  farm  is  beautitully  situated  on 

Nith.  a  large  river  that  runs  by  Dumft 

imd  lalb  into  the  Solway  Frith.    I  b> 

Eicise  olHt-ec,  but  I  do  not  pretend  to  borrow 

gotten  a  tease  of  my  farm  as  long  a 

honour  from  my  professioD ;  end  though  the 

pleased ;  hut  how  it  may  turn  out  is  jus 

«Ury  he  comparatively  small,  it  is  lu,ury  to 

guess,  and  it  is  jet  to  improve  and  end 

any  riling  that  Ilie  first  twenty-five  years  of 

&c. :    however,  I  have  good  hopes  of 

my  life  taught  me  to  eipeet. 

baisainoD  the  whole. 

Thus,  with  a  rational  aun  and  me^od  in 
life,  you  may  emiy  guess,  my  reverend  and 
much  honoured  friend,  that  my  ehoraoteris. 
tic  trade  is  not  forgotten.    I  am,  if  possible^ 


I  to  try  i( 


ou  are  then  in  Ediiibui^h,  I  shall  have 
bout  the  beginning  of  Jlaroh. 
That  acquaintance,  worthy  Sir,  with  which 


TO  MB.  JAMES  B 

Ellaliind.  Feb.  91. 
Mt  Dear  Sib— IVhy  I  did  ni 
yon  long  ago  is  what,  even  on  tl 
-luld  not  answer.  If  you  can  in  ; 
nn  eii  idea  of  indolence,  d 
lies,  ebangfl  of  country,  en 

le  trouble  of  a  blushing  apolc^y.    It  eould 


lissipatioii.  hurry, 


Ho,t,db,  Google 


TO  MRS.  DUNIOP. 


nuch-io 


und  I  h 


-if  tfc 


tec;  among  my  hands,  ond 

Mite  Willi  so  Ba«%d  s  deposit.  Indeei).  I 
Lave  not  any  reason  to  repent  the  step  I 
have  taken,  aa  I  liave  attached  myself  to  a 
very  good  wife,  and  have  Bhaken  myself 

1  have  found  luj  book  »  very  proHtahl 
business,  and  with  the  profits  of  it  1  lisv 
begi     If      retty  decently.    Should  fortuu 

&  h  h     fickle  ladyship,  I  have  provided 

m  uother  resonrce,  which,  however 

•om  may  affect  to  deapiae  il^  is  still  a 

eoiD  shift  in  the  day  of  misfortune, 

n  h    day  of  my  fame,  a  gentleman, 

wh  SB  ,  at  least,  I  dare  wj  you  know, 

ts  h  ta  e  lies  somewhere  ue^  Dundee, 
M    Gra  am  of  Kntry,  one  of  the  Coramia- 

Cf  an  Eioiae  oSicet.  I  thought  it  prudent  to 
accept  Ihe  offer;  and,*-"   ''     '"  '  "-' 


lis.  and  he 
■Whether  I  may  evt 


■nhym. 


home,  however  humbl 

comfort— the  hustle  of  Edinhurgh  will  eoMX 

be  a  business  of  sickening  disgust. 

Vain  pomp  and  glory  of  this  world,  I  bale 

When  I  must  skulk  into  a  corner,  leat  the 
ratiliii^  equipage  of  some  gaping  blockhead 
should  mangle  me  in  the  mire,  I  em  tempted 
to  exclBim.  "What  nterits  bis  he  hiid,  oit 

pie-exisCence,  that  he  is  ushered  into  this 
state  of  being  with  the  sceptre  of  rule,  and 
the  key  of  riches  in  his  puny  fiat,  and  I  am 
kicked  into  the  world,  the  sport  of  folly,  or 
the  victim  of  pride?"  1  have  read  some, 
whfere  of  a  monareh  (in  Spain  [  think  it  was) 
who  was  so  out  of  humour  with  the  Ptole- 
meui  system  of  astronomy,  that  he  said,  had 
he  been  of  the  Creator's  council,  he  could 
liflve  saved  him  a  great  deal  of  labour  and 
absurdity.  I  wQI  not  defend  this  hhisphe- 
mous  sjieech;  hut  often,  as  I  have  glided 
with  humble  slealtli  through  the  pomp  o[ 
[^iu:cs*  Street,  it  has  suj^cstcd  il^lf  to  m^ 
ta  an  improvement  on  tlie  present  hnmsi 
figure,  that  a  man,  iu ' —  *-  ■■■ 


n  pie  pet  t  on  to  the  Eicise-haard,  get  i 
We  &  e  lost  poor  micle  Robert 
'  [)  ve  y      ie  alteration  on  him :  he  expired 


world. 


comes  to  me,  I  eipect,  in  EOoimer.  'llicy 
are  both  remarkably  stout  young  fellowa, 
and  promise  to  do  well.  His  oniy  daughter, 
Fanny,  has  been  vith  me  ever  since  her 
father's  death,  and  I  purpose  keeping  her  in 
my  ftimily  till  she  he  quite  woman  grown, 
and  fit  for  better  serrice.  She  is  one  of  the 
devHest  girls,  anil  has  one  of  the  moat 
amiable  dispositions,  I  have  ever  seen.  (84) 

All  friends  in  this  county  and  Ayrshire 
are  well.  Eemeuiber  me  to  all  frieuda  ui 
the  north.  My  vnte  joins  mc  in  complimeuts 
-o  Mrs.  B.  and  family.    ■  '- 


could  bate  puslied  out  the  loiij^tude  of  his 
common  sise,  as  a  snail  pushes  out  his  hams, 
or  as  we    draw  out  a    perspectiva.    This 

digious  saving  it  would  be  in  the  tear  and 
wear  uf  tlie  neck  and  limh-sinewa  of  many 
of  his  Majesty's  liege-subjects,  in  the  way  of 
tossing  the  head  and  tiptoe  strutting,  would 


ly  to  a  great 
rcond  of  the 


n,your. 


^ely. 


TO  MRS.  CUNLOP. 

Elliilimd,  Mnrch  4th,  1739. 
Here  am  I,  my  honoured  friend,  reluroed 
safe  from  the  cspitaL    I'o  a  man  who  hits  a 


tottering  altitude  would  determine  the  affair 

Yon  are  right.  Madam,  in  your  idea  of 
poor  Mylne's  ;ioem.  which  he  has  addressed 
to  me.  The  piece  has  a  good  deal  of  merit, 
but  it  has  one  great  ftult— it  is  by  far  too. 

such  a  shoal  of  ill-spawned  monsters  to  i»avl 
into  public  notice,  under  the  title  of  Scottish 
poets,  that  tlie  very  term  Scottish  poetry 
borders  on  the  burlesque.  When  I  write  to 
Mr.  Carfrae,  I  shall  advise  him  rather  to  try 

T  his  deceased  friend's  English  pieces, 
prodigiously  hurried  with   my  own 

rs,  else  I  would   have   requested  i) 


Ho,t,db,  Google 


COHEESPONDENCE  OF  BCKKS. 


peruBal  of  all  Mylne^s  poetic  perEbrmanf^a, 
■iid  iTOuld  hove    offered    hia    ° '     ' 
«3sislauce,  ui  either  selettJB)-  < 
wllM  would  be  ptopet  fot  the  p 

«  Kttle  oppteaaes  my  present 
fill  np  H  paragraph  in  aome  futui 
the  meantitue.  allow  me  to  dos 


f  the  Canongate,  Edinbiirjth, 


the  orisiuat,  you  miy  guess 
a  them  he  aoy  real  im; 


Shrink,  miliily  fearfiil,  even  from  applanse. 
Be  sU  a  mother's  fondpst  hope  can  dream. 
And  all  yon  are,  my  charmiiij;  '  '  *  '  seem. 
Stnughe  u  the  foi-glove,  ere  lier  hells  dis- 

Mild  as  the  maiJen-blnshinK  hawthorn  blows, 
Fair  as  the  fairest  of  each  lovely  kmd, 
Your  form  shall  be  the  iinuge  of  your  mind ; 

That  all  shall  long  to  koav/  the  worth  they    ' 
pov, 


!i  poor  Fergusson,  and  then-  erhct  in 
nee  of  my  petition,  but  now  I  shall 

into ,    Foot FergHsaon I    If 

:    there  be  a  life  beyond  the  grove,  whieh  I 
it  there  is ;    and  if  there  be  a  good  God 
preBidingovet 


-thou 


Ande* 


the  heart 


„     ....   world,  where 
alone  ia  dintmction  in  tbeman;  wher 
deprived  of  all    tliMr    pleasare-pnt 
poners,  return  to  their  native  sordid 


quence  of  steai 
'""  tlioi^h  0. 


:    unavoidable    aberrati 


il  hearts  shall  greet  with  kindred 


oae  thought- 
follies,  which 
ma   of   trail 

It  from  you ; 

by  no  means 

R.  B. 


TO  MR. (S5) 

Hard,  1789. 
Mr  Dear  Sir— Tlie  hurry  of  a  fanner 

a  poet  at  all  times  and  seasons,  will,  I  hope, 
^lead  my  excuse  for  negleeting  so  long  to 
answer  your  obliging  letter  of  the  5lh  of 

That  you  have  done  well  in  quitting  your 
laborious  eoncern  in  •  •  •,  I  do  not 
donbt;  the  weighty  reasons  ymi  mention, 
v/ere,  I  hope,  very,  and  deservedly  indeed, 
wdghty  ones,  and  your  health  is  h  matter  of 
the  last  importance;  but  whether  tbe  re. 
maiuing  proprietors  of  the  paper  have  also 
done  well,  is   what   I  much  doubt.     I'he 

luted  tueh  a  brilliancy  of  point,  such  an 
degance  of  paragraph,  and 


I  a  daily  paper  in 
:  hut  if^  there  wi 


TO  Dll.  MOORE. 

EUaUnd.  MlKh  23ri,  1789 

Sib— Tlie  gentleman  who  will  deliver  this 

a  Mr.  Neilion,  a  worthy  clergyman  in  ray 

;ighbourhood  (SQ),  and  a  very  particular 

acquauitance  of  mine.    A»  1  have  troubled 

him  with  this  packet,  I  must  turn  him  over 

goodness,  to  recompense  him  for  it 

--  -'--■■  ■■-  much  needs  your  aasist- 


Mr.  Neil 


ually  SI 


is  way  tor  France, 
.  icnshury,  on  some 
little  business  of  a  good  deal  of  imponanca 
J)  him,  and  he  wishes  for  your  iusiructions 
■eapeccjng  the  most  eligible  mode  of  travel- 
ling, &C.  for  him,  when  he  has  crossed  tha 
Channel.  I  ihould  not  have  dared  to  take 
this  liberty  with  you,  bi 


told,  by 


you,  and  tl 
pleasure. 


r,  that    t 


.  character,  gives   you   i 


Ho,t,db,  Google 


Ulie  eiiclosea  03e  a  a  eoaiplimcnt  to 
meiuDry  of  the  Me  Mrs.  Oswald  of 
chencmive.      You  probably  knew  her  ■ 
Bonallj,    on   bonout    of    which   I    can 
boast ;  but  1  spent  my  earl)'  yeai  a  in 
neighbourbood,  and  smon^  her  fervanta 
tenants.    1  know  that  she  was  detealed  ■ 
the  most  heartfelt    cordiality.       Ho^ve 
in  tbe  particular  part  of  her  conduct  which 
roused  my  poetic  wrath,  she  was  much  less 
blameable.    In  January  last,  on  my  road  to 
Ayrshire,  I  had  put  up  at  Bailie  Whifham's, 
in  Sanquhar,  the  only  tolerable  inn  in  the 
pluee.    The  ftoat  was  keen,  and  the  grim 
erening  and  bowline  i»ind  were  ushering  in 
anighCof  snow  and  drift.    Myborae  audi 
were  both  much  fatigued  with  the  labours 
of  the  day.  and  just  as  my  friend  Ihe  Bailie 
uid  I  were  hidding  deliance  lo  the  storm, 
over  a  Buiokiiig  howl,  in  wheels  the  lUneral 
pafceantry  of  the  late  great  Mrs,  Oswal 


HILL. 

e  dirty  notes  ui  a  miserable  Tault  oj 
i^lity  I  thou  mother  of  ten  tl 


Oh 


ings— Ihou  c 
dainty  greens  ! — thou  manufacturer  of  Hsrm 
Shetland  hose  and  eomfortahje  surlonta  1 — 
thou  old  housewife,  darning  thy  decayed 
Ktockings  with  thy  andent  spectacles  on  thy 
aged  iioael — lead  me,  hand  me  in  thy 
clutfhing  palsied  list,  up  those  heights,  and 
through  tluwe  thickets,  hitherto  inaccessible 
aud  impervious  to  my  aoiioua,  weary  feet — 
not  those  Parnassian  craga,  bleak  and 
barren,  where  the  hungry  worsiiippera  of 
fame  are,  breathless,  dambering^  hanging 
between  heaven  and  liell,  but  those  gbttering 
clil^  of  Potosi,  where  the  all^aufficieuC,  all- 
pownful  deity,  wealth,  holds  his  immediate 
court  of  joya  and  pleasures^  where  the 
sunny  exposure  of  plenty,  and  the  hot  walls 


raof  til 


tetapeatuous  ni^t,  and^nde 
norse,  my  young  ^lourile  hor«,  wham 
had  just  chriateiied  Pegoaua,  twelve  mi  ea 
farther  on,  through  the  wildest  moors 
hills  of  Ayrshire,  to  New  Cumnock, 
licit  inn.     The  powers  of  poesy  and  pr  se 
sink  under  me,  when  I  would  describe  m 
I  felt.    SuftiM  it  to  say,  that  when  a  goo 
fire  at  New  Cumnock  had  so  far  recovered 
my  frosen  sinews,  1  sat  down  tvd  wrote  the 
enclosed  Ode. 

lurgh  lately,  and  aettli  " 


finally  w 


1  Mr.  Cree-ch 
t  last  he  lias  bee 


and  I  111 


.    the 


orthlesa 


:    I  b 


TO   HH.   HILL. 
Ellialand.  April  2nd,  17S9. 

I  wiLt  make  no  eicnse,  my  dear  Biblio- 
polus,  (God  foreite  me  for  murdering  lati- 
guagel)  that  I  liave  sat  down  to  wriie  you 
oil  this  vile  paper, 

it  is  economy.  Sir;  it  is  that  cardinal 
tirtue,  prudence ;  so  I  begyouwdl  sit  down, 
and  eilber  compose  or  borrow  a  panegyric. 
If  you  are  going  to  borrow,  apply  to  *  • 
•  •  to  compose,  or  rather  to  compound, 
something  very  clever  on  my  remarkable 
fnigahty ;  that  I  write  to  one  of  my  most 
esteemed  friends  on  this  wretched  paper, 
which  was  originally  intended  foi  the 
leuol  flat  of  aome  diuokea 


e  documents  of  m 
Pledge  yourself  for  me,  that  for  the  glori- 
ous cause  of  Lucre,  I  will  do  anything,  bo 
anything,  but  the  horse-leach  of  pri- 
vate oppression,  or  the  vulture  of  publlo 
robbery  I 

But  10  descend  from  heroics. 

I  wmit  a  Shakspeare  ;  1  want  likewise  an 
English  dictionary — Johnson's,  I  suppose,  is 
best.  Intheseand  allmyprosecommisaious, 
"      cheapest  is  always  the  best  for  me. 

Robert  Clt^liorn,  in  Sangliton  Mills, 
,  wortliy  friend,  end  your  well-wisher. 
Please  give  him,  and  urge  him  to  take  it,  the 
"  St  lime  you  aee  him,  ten  shilliogB' worth  ot 
ly  thing  you  have  to  sell,  aud  place  it  to 
y  account. 

The  library  acheme  that  I  mentioned  to 
yon  is  already  begun,  under  the  direction  of 
Captain  Riddel.  There  is  another  in  emu- 
'  ■  ■  of  it  gomg  on  at  Closeburn,  under  the 
ea  of  Mr.  Monteath  of  Closeburn. 
will  be  on  a  greater  soUe  ttiaji  onrs. 
Captain  Riddel  gate  his  in&it  sodetyagnaC 


Hoaoin,  Google 


COEKESPONDENCE  OP  BUE>ra. 

a  the  20th  turr 


"The  Moniland  Friendly  Society."  A 
copy  of  The  apectatot.  Mirror,  and  Lonnget. 
Mim  of  FeeJin^,  Man  of  tiie  World,  Outhrie' 
G«ographicBl  Onimnuir,  with  some  i^ligioi 
pieces,  will  likely  he  oiir  first  order. 

Whiii  !  g™w  richer,  I  will  Brite  to  jo 
on  gilt-p05C  to  make  amends  for  this  aliee 
At  present  every  guinea  his  a  fii-e  guini 
errand  »ith,  mj  dear  Sir,  jout  fiulhtul,  poo 
but  honest  friend,  &.  B. 


TO    MRS.  DUNIOP. 

Ellialimd,  April  ilh,  1789. 
aonner  hit  on  any  poetic  plan  o 
;  and  reading  these  ^ve  half  tli 


Uisfied. 


I  haie  a  poetic  whim  in  my  head,  which  1 
at  praeiit  dedicate,  or  rather  inscribe,  to  the 
Wght,  Hon.  Charles  James  Fo« ;   hut  how 


sketched  as 


t  Une)  I  have  just  lougl 


■ing:  it  these 

raonals 

the 

^irenot^notl 

let  the 

ritics 

Bnt  now  for 

a  patron,  irfi 

whose  glory 

t  once  may  illu 

tratea 

dhon 

Thoa  first  of 

et  whose  par 

s    and 

mere  lucky 

its; 

Vilh  knowledge 

so  vast 

andw 

*o  man  withii 

le  half 

rf'em 

wrong; 

Vith   passions 

so  polent,  an 

*o  man  with  the  half  of 

erne' 

right; 

aorrj,  poor  misbcgot  a 

on  of 

or  using  thy  na 

me  offer 

fifty 

ith  judgment 


erely  I  am,  yours,  &e. 


0  have  the 
n,  how  sin- 
It.  B. 


TO    MRS,    JfMURDO, 

EUisland,  Moj  2iid,  1739. 
Mabam— I  have  finished  the  piece  which 
had  the  happy  fortune  to  be  hooonred  with 
yonr  approbation ;  and  never  did  little  Miss 
with  more  sparkling  pleasure  show  her  ap- 
plauded sampler  to  partial  Mamma,  than  I 
now  send  my  poem  to  you  and  Mr.  M'Murdo, 
if  lie  is  returned  to  Drumhinrig,  You  cannot 
easily  imagine  what  tliin-skiiined  animals, 
what  sensitive  plants 

se1f-ab 


:o  Drumlanrig  his,  I  can  tell  you, 
iven  me  a  balloon  waft  up  Patnas. 
on  my  faulted  eleyation  1  regard 


!  It  may  be  it  is  not  eratitude— it 
le  a  mixed  aensaUon,  TW  strange, 
g,  doubling  animal.  MAN,  is  so  gene- 


L'ery  sentiment  of  grateful  respect,  1  ha 
le  honour  to  be.  Madam,  yout  oblised  m 
cateful  humble  aeriant  It.  B 


TO  MR.  CUNNINGHA.M. 

Elbsland.  May  ith.  1789. 


Hosted  by  Google 


TO  BICHAED  BROWH. 


■Bill  nol  Mjf  I  perased  it  with  pleasure 

perused  it.  Sit,  with  ddicion 

satisf^tio 

in5hort,iti8auchBkttfr,th 

t  not  you. 

yout  friend,  but  the  legislatn 

re,  by  expo 

proviso  ill  tlieir  poalage  lams 
A  letter  informedwith  the  sou 

should  frai 

lot  friends 

is  such  an  honoui  to  humar 

nature,  t 

the;  Bliould  order  it  free  in^ 

essandegr 

to  and  from  their  bags  and  m 

ails,  a*  an 

distinction 

1  ha>e  just  put  the  last  ha 

nd  to  a  li 

|>oem,  «h»h  I  think  will  he 

something 

your  taate.    One  momuig  lately,  as  1  u 

out  pretty  early  in  the  fields 

sowing  so 

Colonel  at  the  Crocliillan  Fendhles 


I  have  got  6  good  miud  to  ni 


TO  MR,  SAMUEL  BROIVN. 


_  ss  seeds,  I  hettd  the  hurst  of  a  shot  from 
a  neig;hbanriiig  plantation,  and  preseutly  a 
poor  Uttle  wDimded  hare  eame  crippling  by 
me.  You  will  guess  my  indignation  at  the 
inhuman  fellow  who  cuuld  shoot  a  hare  at 
this  season,  when  all  of  them  have  young 
ones.  Indeed,  there  is  something  m  that 
business,  of  destroying  tot  our  apott  indi- 
viduals ui  [he  anim:^  creation  tluit  da  not 
uijure  as  materially,  which  I  could  never 
reconcile  to  my  ideas  of  virtue. 

Inhuman  man !  curse  on  thy  bnrh'raus  art, 
And  blasted  he  tliy  murder-mmiug  eyel 
May  never  pity  soothe  thee  with  a  sigh. 
Not  ever  pleasure  glad  thy  cruel  heart  I 
Go  live,  poor  wanderer  of  the  wood  and  field, 
Tlie  hitter  little  Iliat  of  life  remains ; 
No  more  the  thickening  btakea  or  verdant 

To  thee  a  home,  or  food,  or  pastime  yield. 

Seek,  mangled  innocent,  some  wonted  form; 
Tliat  n-onted  form,  alas !  thy  dying  bed, 
The  sheltering  ruslies  wlustliug  o'er  thy 

The  cold  earth  with  thy  hloodstain'dlioaom 
Pi^rhtkm  B  mother's  anguish  adds  its  woe ; 

poit  croud  fondly  by  thy  side ; 

IS  unrslmgs,  who  will  now  pro- 


Dear  Uncle — This,  I  hope,  ' 
you  and  your  conjugal  yoke-fellow 
good  aid  way;    I  am  iuipalient  t< 


eatliers,  and  I  hope  you  will  bespeak  them 
or  mo.    It  would  he  a  vain  attempt  for  ma 

«en  engaged  in  since  I  saw  you  last,  hut 
his  know,  I  am  engaged  in  a  am't^glmg 
Talk,  and  Ood  knows  it  ever  any  pout  man 
iKperienced  better  returns,  two  for  onej 
lut  as  freight  and  delivery  have  turned  ant 


TO  RICHARD  BROWN. 


beplayla 


Oft  as  bv  wuiding  Nith,  I,  musing,  nail 
The  sober  eve,  or  hail  tlie  cheerful  di 

And  curse  the  ruthless  wretch,  and  mourn    i 
thy  hapless  fate. 

Let  me  know  how  you  like  my  poem.    1    ! 
■in  doubtful  whetlier  it  would  not  be  a-  *- 


ihing  you  and  she  were 


ong  life  and 
d  thing  may 
iwn  and  yout 

humanity — 


Ho,t,db,  Google 


CORRE8P0NDEKCE  OP  BtlESS. 


mS,  finollj',  vistain^  tliat,  if  there 
our  litUe  oaee,  und  bolb  tainilies, 


TO  MK  JAMES  HAMILTON. 
EWsland.  iWay  26«,  1769. 
DbAk  Sib — I  send  yoii  by  John  Glover, 
carrier,  the  above  account  for  Mr.  TomhulL, 
na  I  EuppOfle  yoa  know  his  addreas. 

I  would  fein  offer,  my  dear  Sir,  a  word  of 
lympathy  « ith  your  misfortunes ;   but  it  ia 


w&o  Arw  lieed  the  lifi  e^  m 
Wiib  every  wi-ih  for  y 


TO  WILLIAM  CREECH,  Eaa. 

ElUlland,  May  30(A.  178B. 
Sir — I  bad  intended  to  have  tronblei 


delightful  seuBaUon  of  an  omnipot 
ache  10  ei^rosses  all  my  inner  tnon, 

it  out  of  my  po«flr  even  to  mite  

Hoverer,  ai  in  duty  bound,  I  approacli 
my  booVaelter  with  an  ofl^ring  in  my  band 
— a  few  poetic  clinches,  and  a  song : — to 
npecc  any  other  kind  of  oderin?  from  the 
'      ling  tribe  would  he  to  know  fliem  much 


I  do. 


there  is  much  merit  in  these  momsHx,  but 
■  ive  two  reasons  for  sending  them ;  primo, 
J  are  mostly  ill-natnred,  so  are  in  unison 
h  my  present  feeUngs,  nbile  fifty  troops 


ring  post  from  i"ir 


in  the  middle,  and  bo  ' 
idea  that  you  found  ar 
heavy  to  get  through. 

I  have  a  request  to  t 
only  beg  of  you,  but 


tudel  Grant  my  request  as  speedily  as 
possible — send  rae  by  the  very  iirst  fly  or 
coach  from  this  place,  three  copies  of  the 
la<t  edition  of  my  poems,  which  place  Xo  my 

No*  may  the  good  things  of  prose,  and 
the  good  things  of  verse,  come  among  thy 
hands,  until  they  be  filled  with  the  (rood 
thingt  oftitia  life,  prayetb  B.  fi. 


TO  MR.M'AULE¥,  OF  DUMHARTON. 


Dear  Sir— Though  I  am 
my  feora  respecting  my  fate,  a( 
universal  inquest  of  ri^ht  and  wrong,  com- 
monly culled    The  Lmt   Day,  yet  I  trust 

Satan,  who  I  mulcrstond  is  to  be  king's  evi- 
dence, camnot, throw  in  my  teeth, — T  mean 
ingratitude.  There  is  a  certain  pretty  lurgs 
quantum  of  kindness  for  which  1  remain,  and 
{torn  inabdity,  I  fear  must  still  remain,  youc 
debtor;  but  though  nnahle  to  repay  tha 
debt,  1  assure  you,  Sir,  I  shall  ever  wMmly 
remember  the  obligation.  It  gives  me  the 
sincerest  pleasure  to  bear  by  my  old  acquaint- 
ance, Mr.  Kennedy,  that  yon  are,  iii  immor- 
tal Allan's  language,  "  Hole,  and  weel,  and 
living ; "  and  that  your  charming  family  are 
well,  and  promising  to  be  an  amiable  and 
respectable  aildition  to  the  company  of  per- 
formers, whom  the  Great  Manager  of  tha 
Drama  of  Man  is  bringing  into  nctioa  fur 
the  succeeding  ^e. 

With  respect  to  my  wdfere,  a  subject  in 
which  you  once  warmly  and  eifectively  in- 
terested yourself,  T  am  here  in  my  old  way, 
holding  my  plough,  marking  the  growth  of 
my  com.  or  tlie  health  of  ray  dairy ;  and  at 
times  sauntering  by  the  deUghtfol  windings 


Ho,t,db,  Google 


TO  MIt,  WMURDO. 


349 


oftlieTTith,  OD  the  mHTsiQ  afvhich  Ihsn 
built  my  humble  domicile,  praying  for  aen- 
aonabl?  weather,  or  boidiikg  aa  intrigue  with 
the  Muaes,  tlw  onl;  gipsies  with  wbom  I 
have  now  guy  intercourse.  As  Iain  entered 
at  my 


™ple(ely  ! 


iii-mrd;  and 


as  it  is  a  rule  nith  all 
repeat  no  grievances,  I  hope 
j-oetie  licenc«a  of  tbrmer  days 
fall  under  the  obtirious  infl 
good  iiatured  statute  of  celesl  i 
III  my  family  devotion,  nhii 
Preflbyterian,  '1  oceasionatly  give  w  my 
honseliold  fulks,  lam  eitremely  fond  of  the 


;  theet 


"Ln!  c 


of  my  y 


re  God'i 


Ire,  aiid  that  other, 
ierita<K,"  &c,  in  Khich  Init  Mrs,  Bams, 
"lio,  hy  the  hye,  hor  a  Klonoua  "  wood-note 
vild  "  at  eitlier  old  sons  "r  psalmndy,  joins 
lie  with  the  palho)  of  Haiidei's  Messiah. 
E-B. 


TO  MK  ROBERT  AlKSLIE. 

ElMaiid,  Juiie  art,  1789. 
It   dear   Friend — I    am    perfectly 


I  to  iireiiiiri!  them  fnr  the  press;  which 
1  ta^k,  Hilh  iuuiiig  corn  with  my  own 
a  parcel  of  niasous,  wrights,  plasterers. 


di^ar  Sir,  is  a  serious  matter.  You  know, 
by  eiipcncnce,  that  a  mati's  individual  self  is 
A  good  deal,  hut  believe  me,  a  wife  and 


more  important  object  of 
coucerns  whatever  which 
1  the  individnaL    On  the 


other  hand,  let  no  young,  tmmarried,  rake- 
helly dog  among  you,  make  a  song  of  his 
Cretended  liberty  and  freedom  from  cote 
'  the  relations  we  stand  iu  to  king,  country, 
kindred,  and  friends,  be  any  thmg  but  the 
viginiiary  fancies  of  dreaming  mctaphy- 
aieiiinsj    if  religion,  Tirt  "    ■""" 


but  empty  a 

beloved,  ho 
faitbfid  emi 


ive  on!)'  for  others,  for  t 
>urable  female,  whose  tend 


the  anbjecla  of  his  king,  and  the  support,  nay 

the  ensuing  age— compare  such  a  man  wiHi 

and    push    in    business  among    labourers, 

rant,  and  drink  and  sing  in  ta^-ems— a 
Sallow  over  wluwe  grave  no  one  vtill  breathe 
a  single  heigh-ho,  except  from  the  cobweb-tie 
of  what  is  called  good  fellowship — who  has 
but  what  t      '     ■       " 


iBclt— i 


tch  of  01 


any  grc 


nobody  kuowi  how,  and  soon  dissipating  in 
nothing  nobody  knows  where  j  such  a  stupid 
beast,  Buch  a  crawling  reptile,  might  balance 
the  foregoing  uuexaggeratcd  comparison,  i>ut 
no  one  else  would  have  the  patience. 

Forgite  me,  my  dear  Sir,  for  this  loi« 
silence.     lb  laal-e  yon  aiiitHdi,  1  shall  send 


though,  with  a  triiiu"  poetii 
poets  may  be  styled  he^arf 
verse  of  the  proposition  does 


Hoifdb,  Google 


SCO 


hnv«  ju?t  diipalfhed  a 

0  Kirkpttlricb's  Hi}rti- 

>Dr^n  for  which  1  am  iniiebt^ 

-Five 'excellent  new  songs."  The  end.wed 
is  nearly  my  neweat  aong^  and  one  Chat  \itti 
CMt  nte  some  paina.  thongh  that  is  fant  an 
Hiiiivocal  marfc  of  its  excellence.  Tno  or 
three  others,  which  I  have  bj  me,  shall  do 
themselves  the  hODOar  to  wait  ou  yoDi  after 
lasure;  petitioners  tor  admittance  into  favoor, 
must  not  haraaa  the  condesceusbn  of  tlieir 


COTtRKSPOSDENCE   07  BURNS. 


Ymi 


0  patronise  a  | 


and  you 


burough ;  yon  do  them  the  fav( 
in  then  counci]  foe  one  year,  . 
bears  the  prefatory  stigma  at 

With,  not  the  comiiKnients,  hnt  the  bert 
wishes,  the  sincereat  prayera  of  the  season 
for  yon.  that  yon  may  see  many  tuid  iuppy 
yenrs  <rith  Mrs.  M'Murdo,  and  yonr  thmily ; 
"»o  blesainits,  by  the  bye,  to  which  your 
iHiiii  ooei  not,  by  any  means,  entitle  you— 
Bloiing  <rife  and  line  family  being  almost 
the  only  Eood  thiiiffS  of  this  life  to  which 

tive  right.  1  have  the  hononr  to  he,  Sir, 
your  moch  iudebted  and  very  hnni'le  «<t- 
nnt,  a  B. 


and  gloomy  presa; 

I  have  just  heat 
•  sermon,      tie  i! 


s  foe  hi, 
"  nt,  from 


snch  ideas  of  my  Creator,  good  Lord,  deh^ 
me  t  Keligion,  my  honouied  friend,  is  sutuj 
a  simple  business,  as  it  equally  couceins  the 
Ignorant  and  the  leafoed,  the  poor  lud  the 
rich.  That  there  is  an  incomprehensible 
Great  Beniff,  to  whom  I  owe  ray  eiisteuce, 
and  (hat  he  must  be  intimately  acquainted 
with  the  Dpeniions  and  progress  of  the  in- 
ternal machinery,  and  consequent  outward 


na.     That  there 
enCly,  that  I  am  ai 


a  real  and  eteniil 


!  at  the  hiunan 
mind,  aa  well  as  from' the  evident  imnerfee- 
tion.  nay,  positive  injustice,  in  the  adminia- 
tration  of  offiiira,  both  in  tlie  natntal  and 
moral  worlds,  there  most  be  a  retrihaUve 
scene  of  eiiatence  beyond  the  grave— must, 
I  think,  be  allowed  by  every  one  who  wiQ 
give  himself  a  moment's  reflection.  I  wiU 
go  firther,  and  affirm,  that  from  the  sub- 
limity, escellence,  and  purity  of  hia  docltme 
and  precepts,  unpamlleled  by  b!I  the  aggre- 
gntc'd  wisdom  and  learning  of  many  preceding 
ages,  though,  to  appenrance,  he  himself  was 
the  abscareet  and  most  illiterate  of  our 
e|)ecies — therefbre  Jesua  Christ  was  friND 
God. 

IVhatever  mit^atea  the  woes,  or  iucresses 
the  happiness  of  others,  this  is  my  crilerion 
of  goodness;  aud  whatever  injures  society 
at  large,  or  any  individual  in  it,  this  is  my 

""■-^^•■■■'-  Madam,  of  my  creed  ? 


leasei 


It  that 


have  said  nothing 
the  ej-e  o' 


BIadam — Of  the  many  problems  in  the 

ia  one  of  the  moit  eEtraordiuary : — that  he 
sliall  go  on  tVom  day  to  day,  ftim  iieek  to 

from  year  to  year,  suffering  a  hundred  times 
more  in  an  hour  from  the  impotent  consO" 
onsnc^is  of  n^ectifig  what  he  oi^ht  to  do, 
than  the  ver>'  doing  otit  would  cost  him,  1 
am  deeply  indebted  to  you,  lu'st,  fat  »  most 
elcgiiiit  imctic  compliment;  then,  fbr  a  polite, 
obliging  letter ;  and,  lastly,  tor  yoar  eicelleut 
poem  on  the  slave-trade^  and  yet,  wretch 
that  I  am !  thoii^  ths  debts  were  debts  of 
id  the  creditor  a  lady,  I  have  put 


off  ai 


Lit  of  then 


indeed 


loem  I  liave  read  with  the  bigheKt 


Ho,t,db,  Google 


(lun  propnty,  tbnt  1  take  a  pencil  sad  tnai 
«t  Ihe  ends  of  verses,  or  note  on  margins  ar 
i.dd  pDper,  lilOe  critiaams  of  approb^on  i 
diMpprobUtoQ  aa  I  penise  aloog,  1  »i 
make  uo  apolofij  for  presenting  you  with 
few  UQConoected  thoughts  that  occurTed  i 
me  in  my  repeated  perusals  of  your  poer 


that  you  have  equei  greatne: 
hear  them  with  pleBaiire^ 

I  had  lately  the  Iioudut  of 
Dr:  Moote,  iihete  he  tells  mi 


\  the  path  of  i»me,  a 


TO   MR.   JOHN    LOGAN.  (93) 
EUislaml,  near  Dum/wj,  Aug.  Wi,  1 7f 


a  poetic  epistle  to  yon;  but  that  ol 
any  of  a]]  girod  works,  the  devj],  threw  ni 
a  a  prosaic  mire,  and  fbr  tlie  Boul  of  tae 
mot  get  out  of  it.  I  dare  not  write  yo 
onjf  letter,  as  I  am  pymE  to  JDttnde  o 


ansas,  1  am  deL«rmined  not  to  let  it  get 
ito  the  public ;  so  1  send  yon  this  copy, 
le  first  I  have  aeitt  to  Ayrshire,  except  some 


L    Uam 


a  few  of 

any  account  give,  or  permit  to  be  taken,  any 
copy  of  the  ballad.  If  I  could  be  of  atiy 
service  to  Ur.  M'tidl,  I  would  do  it,  tlion;;h 
it  should  be  at  a  much  greater  eipeusc  ihau 
irritating  a  few  bigoted  priests;  but  i  aiu 
afraid  serving  liim  ui  his  presetic  eiabairas  is 
ti  Cask  too  liatd  for  me.  I  have  eiiemiea 
enoT,  Ood  kuowa,  thoagh  1  do  not  waniouly 


DUNLOP. 

add  to  the  number.    I 


:  of  the  llioiights, 
1,  1  am,  dear  Sir,  your   obliged 


TO    MRS.    DUNLOP. 

Eimmd,  Sepl.  6(J,  1789. 
Dear  Madah — I  have  meutioned  in  my 
last,  ray  ^pointmeiii 


irth  of  little  Frank 
■   le  no  disore 
A'allace,  as 
^  and  a 


n  the  hoiiour^le 

B  that  might  do 
vitMii.  luR  little  fellow  two  months  older; 
and  likewise  ail  escelient  good  temper,  though 
when  he  pleases  be  has  a  pipe,  only  not 
quite  so  loud  as  the  honi  that  his  immortal 
namesake  blew,  as  a  signal  to  take  out  the 
piu  of  Stirbng  bridge. 

1  had  some  time  ago  ta  epistle,  part 
poetic  and  part  pros^c,  from  your  poetess, 
Mrs.  J.  Little,  a  very  ingenious,  but  modest 
composition,  I  should  have  written  her  as 
site  requested,  but  for  the  hurry  of  this  ne« 
business.  I  have  heard  of  her  and  bra  com- 
positions in  this  couniry ;  and,  I  am  happy 
to  add.  always  to  the  honour  of  her  charactet. 
The  fact  is,  I  know  not  well  how  to  write  to 
her ;  I  should  sit  dou'n  to 


lo  dab 


le-drawn    letter-writing;    and,  eicmt 

prompted  by  frieiidsliip  or  gratitude, 

iich  happens  estrcmely  rarely,  inspired 

by  the  mnse  (I  know  not  her  name)  that 

~  'es  over  epistfdary  writing,  1  sit  down, 

down  to  beat  hemp, 

ngust,  struck  me  w 

Loly  eoiuam  for  the  state  of  your  m 


ir  letter  of  the  SOtb 


Would  I  could  write  you 

letter  of  con». 

ibrt,  1  would  sit  down  to  it 

with  a 

much 

pleasure  as  [  would  W  write 

nepicp 

oemo/ 

ould  equal  the 

liad.    Religion.  <ny  dear  frie 

ud,  is  th 

comfort!     A  strong  persuas 

oti  in  a 

futura 

state  of  eiiatenoe ;  a  propositi 

onsoob 

rtQusly 

pcotahle,  that,  setting  revelat 

every 

nation  and  people,  so  far  as  in 

on  ha. 

reached,  for  at  least  near 

our    th. 

usand 

ears,  have,  in  some  mode  or  oClier, 

.«* 

Ho,t,db,  Google 


COEEESFONDESCE  OF  I 


pretend  to  doubt.  I  have 
a  vety  daring  pitch ;  but 
that  1»S9  opposing  them 
nod  the  laoat  darling  hu| 
and  Ryiag  m  tlie  ikce  of  a 
all  Bges,  I  will  shocked  at  my  o< 

1  know  not  whether  T  ' 
the  foUowii^  lines,  or  if  , 


havener  sent  you 

ajtonijlied,  a 

ndasloiiisbedaiiig" 

you  h»i.-e  ever  aeeii 
ny  ravourilfl  quola- 
oiitly  by  me  in  my 

Thexvbiat 

e  and  the  man  J  lain? 
thut  won  the  whistle. 

tliebngoageoftbe 

Here  are  we 

met,  three  merry  boys, 

Against  the  day  of  batUa  aud  of  war — 
Bpoken  of  religion : — 
"I'ia  ihif.mj  friend,  that  streaks  onr  morning 

bright. 
Tie  (*(»  ibot  gilds  the  horror  of  onr  ni^bt. 
Wheii  Health  fotaakes  ui,  and  when  fnendj 

are  few; 
^Vben  friends  are  faitliless,  or  when  foes 

ms  this  that  wards  the  blow,  or  stills  the 


ifest  my  thoughts  on  t> 
i    A  Dieu,  le  ton  Dieu 


TO  CAPTAIN  RIDDED  CAHSE. 
Ellaland,  Oct.  IQlh,  1789. 

Sir— Big  with  the  idea  of  this  unportant 
day  at  IWars  Catse,  I  have  watched  the 
elecnents  and  skies  in  the  lull  i^rsiiasion 
that  they  would  announce  it  to  the  aatonislied 
vorld  by  mme  phenomena  of  terrilic  porCeiit. 
Ycstemigbt  until  a  very  laie  bonr  did  1  wait 
with  Miirioua  horror  for  theappearanceof  some 
comet  firing  half  the  sky;  or  aSrial  armies  of 
aingninary  Scandinavians,  darting  athwart 
the  startled  heavens,  rapid  as  the  ragged 
lightning,  and  horrid  as  those  eonvulsious  of 
nature  that  bury  nations. 

The  elements,  however,  seem  to  take  the 


matterveryqoietl;;  they  did  not  even  usher 
in  this  moruioB  with  triple  suns  and  a 
shower  of  blood,  symbolical  of  the  three 
potent  heroes,  and  the  mighty  ckret-shed  of 


To  leave  the  heights  of  Parnassus,  and 
one  to  the  humble  vale  of  prose.  I  have 
ime  miagivin),-s  that  1  take  too  much  upon 
e,  when  I  request  you  to  get  yout  guest, 
ir  Robert  lawrie,  to  frank  the  two  enclosed 

,'illiam  Cuuninghiun,  of  Robertland,  BBr> 
:  Kilmarnock— the  other,  to  Mr.  Allan 
[astertou,Writir^-M»ster,EdinbiiTgh.  The 
'St  has  a  kindred  claim  on  Sir  Robert,  as 


le  world,  and  a  man  of  teal  gi 
1  want  them  franked  for  in-ni< 


evening.  Wishing  that  your  head 
cruivned  with  laureLi  to-night,  and  I 
odiea  to-morrow,  I  have  the  honoi 
Sir,  youi  deeply  indebted  humble  se 


gratification  and  rel 
to  the  poet,  than 
idle  thymes.  Hi 
though  to  a  proverl 

to  pay  with. 

If  ray  poems  which  I  have 
mean  still  to  transcribe,  into 
equal  Co  the  grateful  respect 


only  coin  a  poet  b 
have  transcribed,  a 


Ho,t,db,  Google 


TO  JIR.  KICHARD  BROWS. 


353 


1  bear  for  the  gentlemsn  to  whom  1  pies'  nC 
Ihem,  tliejr  viaM  lie  the  finest  poems  in  the 
language.     As  they  are,  they  mil  at  least 


TO  MR  ROBERT  AINSUE. 

EllUlmd,  Noe.  1st,  17B9, 
Mi  Dear  Fbiend— I  1 
oulJ  I  have  g 


laU  ii 


andpuii 


iitif  pound 


they  vere  the  pecntMr  property  of  lus  parti- 
cular ntnation ;  anil  hence  thaC  eterua] 
fickleness,  that  love  of  change,  whkh  haa 
mined,  end  daily  doca  luin,  many  a  fine 
fellow,  as  ivell  as  many  a  hlockhead,  and  ia 
alninet  aithout  eiceplioti  a  constJuit  source 
of  disflppointmeut  and  misery. 

I  long  to  hear  from  you  how  you  go  01 


prelty  well  satisfied  with  yoni 


you 


find  you,  for 

seuiG  ttian  to  naate  the  precious  da; 
vacation  time  in  the  dirt  of  butinesi 
EdinhurKh.  Wherever  you  ate,  God 
you,  and  lead  you  not  into  temptation 
deliver  you  from  evil  I 

I  do  not  know  if  I  haie  informed  you  that 
I  am  now  appointed  to  an  Eicise  di 
in  the  middle  of  which  my  houae  an 
lie.  In  thia  I  was  eitremely  lucky.  Without 
ever  having  been  an  expectant,  as  t' 
their  joraneymen  exdaemen,  I  was 


tolerably  at  eaee  in  your  internal  re- 
tioiis?    'Tis  much  to  he  a  great  cliaracter 

a  great  character  as  a  man.  That  you 
;  be  both  the  one  and  the  other  ia  Che 
■est  wish,  and  that  you  ^iil  be  both  ia 
I  of,  my  dear  Sir,  &o. 


ih  and  bring 

■till  more  opprobrious,  ganger,  will  sound  in 
your  ears.  I,  too,  havo  seen  the  day  wlien 
my  audimty  nerres  would  have  felt  very 
delicately  on  thia  subject ;  bnt  a  wife  and 
children  are  thiuj^  which  have  a  aondertul 
nower  in  blimting  these  kind  of  sensations, 
loands  a-yeitt  for  hfe,  and  a  provision 
'  3WS  and  orphans,  you  will  allow  is  no 
tlemeiiC  for  a  poet.  For  the  ignominy 
's  ,1  have  the  encouragement 
ce  heard  a  recruiting  se^eanl 
1  m  reus,  if  not  a  respectable 
1  b  streets  of  Kilmarnock  :— 
your  further  and  better 
can  assure  yon  that  our 
h  most  blackguard  corps  under 
ai  d  consequently  with  us  an 
r  has  the  surest  chance  of  pre- 


I    have 


ling  debt,  ail 


0  hurried,  my  ever  dear 
1 1  got  both  your  letteia, 
sl)la    to    command  an 


laving  days.    Pew  things 

the  news  that  you  w»«  ouce  more  safb  and 
sound  on  terra  firma,  and  liappy  in  that  place 
where  happiness  is  alone  to  be  fonnd — in  the 
fireside  circle.  May  the  benevolent  Director 
of  all  thinga  pecitliarly  bleas  yon  in  aH  ^ose 
endearing  connections  consequent  oa  the 
tender  and  venerable  names  of  husband  uid 
father  I  I  have  indeed  been  eitremely 
lucky  in  getting  an  additionid  income  of 
£50  a-year.  while  at  the  same  time,  the 
anpouitment  will  not  coat  me  above  £10  or 
£1Z  per  annum  of  expenses  more  Uian  I 
must  have  inevitably  incurred.    The  worst 


than 


doubt  that  I  find  i 
and  disagreeaUe  c 
isiness;  but  I  am  tire 


Ltely  m 


Lo  much  businesa,  th 


against  the  evds  of  life.  Himian  eii 
in  the  most  fiivourable  ait^iations,  do 
abound  with  pleasures,  and  haa  its 
'eiiienees  and  ills;  cajiririous  foolia 
laidtabes  these  inconveiienceB  and  ill 


meet  you  anywhere.  No  less  than  ui 
order  Aom  the  board  of  Eicise,  at  Edin- 
bu^h,  is  necessary  before  I  can  have  *a 
much  time  as  to  meet  you  in  Ayrahiie. 

have  a  social  day.  and  perhaps  leogtheo  it 


Ho,t,db,  Google 


354 


C01tRESPOXDES(;E  OF  BURNS. 


out  Kith  linlftlieniglit.befote  yon  go  again 

have  on  earth,  my  brothers  txtspted ;   and 

Wben  you  and  I  first  met,  we  were  ot  the 
gieen  period  of  human  life.  The  twig 
wonld  easily  take  *  bent,  bnt  would  ai 
enHly  return  to  ila  former  atate.  You  »ud 
I  not  ouly  took  a  mutual  bent,  hut,  by  the 
■ueluicholy,  tliough  atrong  inSumce  of 
being  both  of  the  family  of  the  nntortanale, 
we  were  entwined  wilh  Due  another  in  our 


DO  labour.  Nor  do  I  find  my  hnnied  lifb 
greatly  inimioil  to  my  eorrefpoudence  with 
tlie  MusBi.  'fhrir  visiu  to  me,  indeed,  and 
I  bclleie  to  most  of  their  Bcquaiiitance,  liks 
the  visits  of  good  an^s,  are  short  and  far 

1  JQg  through  the  hills  of  Nithsil^e,  juat  ai 
I  used  to  dS  OQ  the  henka  of  Ayr  I  lake 
the  liberty  to  endose  you  ■  few  bagatelles, 
all  of  theni  the  prodiictiona  of  my  leisure 
thoughts  in  m;  Eidse  rides. 


lempt 

/)  undo  the 

ua 

oni     You  and  Im 

have  0 

our  favourite  tos 

"May 

of  our  youth  be 

friends 

of  our  old 

age 

"    Come  and  see 

r;    I  shall 

you  at  Pon-Glasg 

Ihene 

f,  and  if 

an  centrive  to  hau 

gossip 

S  bet«eei 

r  two  bed-fellous 

iiUbe 

M 

lonal  pleasure,    W 

Burns 

Sn"re  i 

»DdM 

ts.  Brown. 

Adieu  1    I  am  ever. 

TO  KOBERT  GKAHAM,  Esa. 


6rR — T  haye  a  good  while  had  a  i 
trouble  jou  with  a  letter,  and  had  ce 


term,  yet  the  poor  Doctor  Atid  his 
'roua  ^mily  are  in  imuieni  dsnger  of 
;  thrown  out  to  the  mercy  of  tlia 
■r-winds.  The  eiicloseil  baliail  on  that 
ipss  is,  I  confeaa,  too  local,  but  1  laughed 
mj  self  at  gome  conceits  in  it,  thougli  I  am 
convinced  in  my  conscience  that  iljere  ara  a, 
good  many  heavy  stanias  in  it  too. 

The  election  ballad,  as  you  will  see,  alludei 


■!  that  tl 


Tesolulion,  aa  if  one  should  say,  "  You  1 
found  Mr.  Graham  a  very  powerful  and  I 
friend  indeed,  end   that  interest  lie  i: 
kindly  takhig  in  your  coiicerna  you  ought,    1 
by  every  thing  in  your  power,  to  keep  alive    r 
and  cherish,"    Now,  tliongh  ance  God  baa 
thoiu;;bC  pn^er  to  make  one  powerful  mid    i 
another     powerless,     the     connection       * 
obhger  and  obliged  is  all  feir ;   and  tin 
nay  being  nnder  your  patronage  is  highly 
honourable,  jet,  Sir,  allow  me  to  flatter  my 
self,  that,  as  a  poet  and  an   hooest  miin 
you  first  interested  yourself  in  my  welfare 
and  princip^ly  as  snch,  atill  you  permit  nji 


<e  found  the  E 


38  go  on  a 


peeled,  owing  a  go^  deal  to  the  genf 
friendship  of  Mr.  Mitchel,  my  collector, 
tlte  Und  assistance  of  Mr.  Findlater,    my 
tupemsot.    1  dare  to  be  honest,  and  I  fear 


1  too  little  a  man  to  have  any  political 
ineiits;   1  am  deeply  indebted  to,  and 


TO  MRS.  DUNLOF. 
EllUland,  Becmbsr  13lh,  V, 


Hosted  by  Google 


»«iy  thing  pkases.    I  ai 


TO  LADY  COSSTABLE, 

lae,  yet  from  y. 

n  gtosning  under    There  should  I,  v 


headache,  that 


1  Einse- 


i  fat 


agony  of 
i»;ht  with 


tcaree  able  to  lift  my  head,  much  less  to 
Itde  once  a-week  av«  (en  muii  paiiihea. 
WhM  is  man?  Today,iii  the  luiiitiance 
o(   health,  einlting    in  the  enjoyment  of 

houts,  loaded  vith  conscious  painful  being, 
counting  the  tardy  pace  of  tlie  lingeniig 
..^  ., =__.  _,  gng^,h,  , 


My  Mary,  dear  departed  shade  ? 

Where  is  thy  place  of  heavenly  ™t? 
Seest  thou  thy  lover  lowly  laid  f 

Hear'st  thou  the  groana  that  rend  hii 

■St  of  chitficteral 


revelation  of   hiiasi 

beyond  death  and  the  grai 

ly  imposittons  which 


and  that  thy 


of   ( 


A  little  time  will  maJie  ua 
Can  it  be  poasihle,  that 


ih  being.  1  si 


still  And  myself 


jf  igony  hs 


re  ?      Whe 

announced  that  I  am  no 

.   .    it  knew  me,  and  the  few 

IS,  ghastly  eotse  is  ccaigned  into 
the  earth,  to  be  the  prey  of  nuaighfly  rep- 
tilea,  and  to  become  in  time  a  tcoddea  clod. 


I  am  a  good  deal  inclined  to  think  with 
those  who  maintain,  that  what  are  called 
nervoua  alfections  are  in  bet  diseaaes  of  the 

and  hut  to  yon  I  would  not  veaCiuv  to 
write  any  thing  above  an  order  to  a  cobbler. 
You  have  felt  loo  much  of  the  ills  of  life  not 
to  sympathiae  with  a  diseased  nreteh,  ivho 
has  impaired  mote  than  half  of  any  facultiei 
be  possessed.  Your  goodness  wdl  eiicaaB 
thia  distracted  scrawl,  vhich  the  writer  du« 
ily  read,  and  which  he  i      "    " 


0  the  fir^  w 


e  able  to  ' 
any  thing  s 


>baU  I  he  yet  v: 


enjoyinB  and  enjoyed  J  „    , 

and  holy  flameoa,  is  there  prohaiiility  in 
your  conjectures,  truth  in  your  atoriea,  of 
another  woiid  beyond  death ;  oi  are  they  all 
alike  baseless  viaiona,  and  (abrifjated  ^bles? 
If  there  is  another  life,  it  must  be  oidy  for 
the  just,  the  beuetolent,  the  amiable,  and 

a  world  to 'come!  Would  to  Ood  1  as 
Jirnily  believeJ  it  »a  E  ardently  wish  it! 
There,  1  should  meet  an  aged  parent,  now  at 
any  bull'etings  of  an  evil 


Bmnour  totd  me  someihii^  of  a  son  of 
youra,  who  was  leturued  from  the  East  or 
West  Indies.  If  you  have  gotten  ne«» 
ftom  James  or  Anthony,  it  was  cruel  in  you 
not  to  let  me  kuow ;   as  I  promised  you,  oa 


your  pen  in  pity  to 


world,  a., 
bravely  stti^gled.  There  should  1  m. 
friend,  the  disinterested  frieiid  of  m 
life;     the  man  who  rejoiced   to  « 


t  the 


TO  LADY  WINIFRED  MIXWEIX 
CONST  ABUi.  (94j 
Ellisland,  Verember  10!*,  J  789. 


a  from  the  All-good  SeiBg    eijiecled  to  Iwar  from  Mrs.  Young,  as 


Hosted  by  Google 


COREESPONDEMCE  OF  BUHNS. 


le  the   I 


Dalsn 


iutroduci 


asible,  not  from 
your  ladyship's  acceasibiLitj,  but  from  my 
otra  fteliaga.that  I  could  go  alone.  LaCdy, 
indeed,  Mr.  Maxwell  of  Catruchen, ' 
usual  goodness,  oflered  to  accompai 
vheii  an  unluijiy  inilisposition  on  my  part 
biudered  my  embracing  the  opportunity. 
To  court  the  notice  or  the  tables  of  tbe 


could  endure  it  beyond  a  soliloquy.  1  migbt 


le  yoii  c 


Iding,  0 


e  bad 


ertoask  oflhem,  or.morc  often, 
(he  pleasanter  tast  of  witnessing  my  graf 

Bud  I  trust  never  shall  do.    But  with  yoi 
ladyship  I  have  tbe  honour  to  he  coonecled 


ly  poor  distrnctcd  mind  is  ao 
torn,  so  jaded,  bo  racked  and  beikviled  with 
the  task  of  the  aupetlatirely  damned  to 
make  me  guinea  do  the  biiaineaa  of  three, 
that  I  detest,  abhor,  and  swoon,  at  the  very 
word  iasiue)),  though  no  less   than  four 


:  wbolen 


te  is  glorious,  the  ca 


en  to  be  nnfortu- 

of  heroic  loyalty ! 

iini^n    my    latnets    nad    not    illustrioi 

latest,   though    they    left    their    humb 
ittagcs  only  to  add  so  many  ni  " 


:    follon 


leaJers,  yet  what  they  eould  they  did.  i 
u'hat  they  liad  they  lost ;  with  unslia] 
tir:nnBs3,  and  unconcealed  political  atta 
meats,  the;  shook  hands  with  ruin  for  w 

'  ■ '  fe  of  their  long  and 


closed  ceraeg  (95)  ar 
eye  alone.    Poets  are 


gusge  and  tl 


.   rerysbon 

Well,  to  make  the  matter  short.  I  shall 
5take  myself  to  a  subject  ever  fruitful  of 
lemes — a  subject  the  turtle  feast  of  the 
>n3  of  Satan,  end  tbe  delinons  secret  sugar 
lum  of  the  babes  of  grace — a  subject 
larkling  with  all  the  jewels  that  wit  can 
lid  in  the  mines  of  aeniua,  and  pregnant 
ith  all  the  stares  of  learning  from  ifoses 
id  Confucioa  to  Franklin  and  Priestley— 
I  stort,  may  it  please  your  lordship,  I 
teud  to  write  •  •  • 

[Hers  the  poet  taaerted  a  Kmg.'] 

If  at  any  time  you  eipect  a  fleld-diy  in 


knights,  pa 


obedient  humble  se 


ladyship's  obbged  and    1 


TO  PROVOST  MAX«'ETJ* 


nber  20th,  1789 


SeAB     FrOiusi AS     I 

Graham,  goes  Cot  your  good  u.nii  lu-uiunu 
i  cannot  resist  the  temptation  to  send  yc 
s  few  lines,  and,  as  I  have  nothUig  to  say, 
haie  chosen  this  sheet  of  foolscap,  ai 
begim,  as  yon  sec,  at  the  top    '   " 


kno>Ti 


ever  observed, 

ce  people  have  fauly  set  out 
t  where  to  slop.  Now  ''■-'  — 
is  concluded,  I  " 


ite  you  on  pulities  or 
luhjects  for  your  sayers 


TO  MR  SITTPIERLAND,  PLAYEK, 


Monday  flfomiBj. 
disappointed,  my  dear  Sir/ 
„  ,  ir  moat  agreeable  company 
yesterday.  However,  I  heartily  pray  for 
good  weather  neit  Sunday;  and  whatever 
aerial  Being  liaa  the  guidance  of  the  cle- 

ndays  he  pleases,  and  clothe  them  with 
Vapours,  and  clouds,  and  storms. 


Until 


rrify  hira 


I  of  his  own  raising. 


In  the  greatest  hurry. 


Ho,t,db,  Google 


TO  MR.  GILBERT  BORNS. 


t  JOHN  SINCLAIR 

1790. 


Duneccre,  in  Nithediile.  I  heg  1« 
it  to  you,  bMauae  it  is  new,  a 
useful.    Haw  far  it  ia  desening 

To  store  the  minds  of  the  lo 
with  useful  knowledge,  is  « 


them 


entlei 


for  reading  and  ^ecti 

1  source  of  iimooent  and  laa- 

.  mote  dignified  degree  in  the  scale  of 
inalitf.  Itnptcssed  with  this  idea,  a 
' "    "lis  parish,  liohert  Riddel,  Esq,, 


books,  as  he  chose  to  be  a  pur^iaser  or  not. 
At  the  breaking  up  of  this  little  society, 
which  w«a  formed  under  Mr.  Eiddel's 
patronage  what  with  benefactions  of  hooks 
from  him,  and  what  with  their  own  pur. 
chases,  they  had  collected  together  opwatdi 
of  one  hundred,  and  Bfty  volumes.  It  will 
easily  he  guessed  that  a  "vwd  deal  of  trash 
would  be  bousht.  Am  g  h  b  k  h  w- 
ever,  of  this  little  lb  w  Bai  &er- 
mons,  Robertson'  I  ty  f  Suj  land, 
Hume's  History  o     h    S  Th    Spec- 


r,  Adve 


Lou 


of  Qlenriddel, 
lating  lihtary,  on  e.  plan  so  simple,  as  to  bi 
practicable  in  any  comet  of  the  country 
uid  so  useful,  as  to  deserve  the  notice  o 
every  country  gentleman,  who  thinks  tin 
improvement  uf  tliat  part  of  his  own  spenej 
whom  chance  has  thrown  mto  the  hunibh 
walks  of  the  peasant  atid  the  artisan,  e 
matter  worthy  of  his  attention. 

Mr.  Riddel  got  a  nnniher  of  bu  own 
tenants,  and  farming  neighbours,  to  form 
themselves  into  a  society  for  the  purpose  oi 
having  a  libtoty  among  themselves.  They 
entered  into  a  legal  engagement  to  abide  h,v 


.  _.  of  F  ,  --  _ 
World,  Chrysal,  D  n  Ci  b  J  seph 
Andrews,  &c.  A  peasan  »h  can  ead, 
and  enjoy  such  books,  ce  tainly  a  much 
sngierioi  being  to  his  ne^hbour  who,  perhaps 
stalks  beside  his  team,  very  httle  removed, 
except  in  shape,  from  the  brutes  he  drives. 
Wishing  


blese 


Al'E/ 


;t  m- 


death    Eacl 
shillings;   ai 


it  bis  entry,  pud  Ave 

of  theii;  meetings, 

every  fourth  Saturday,  sii- 


With  their 
the  credit  which  they  took  on  the  fiiith  oi 
their  fnture  funds,  they  Idd  in  a  tolerable 
stock  of  hooks  at  the  commencement.  What    ' 
authora  they  were  to  purcliase,  was    ^  ' 

decided  by  the  majority.    At  etery  ni 
all  the  hooks,  under  certain  lines  and  fi^ 
feitures.  bv  way  of  uenalty,  were  to  be  pro-    1 
ra  had  tlieir  choice  of    ' 
in.    He  whose  name    - 


TO  MR.  GiLUEltT  BURNS. 

Ellklmid,  Ja:aiars  11(1,  1790. 

Iear  Brother— I  mean  to  take  advan. 

;  of  the  frank,  though  I  have  not  in  my 

lent  frame  of  mind  much  appetite  fbi 

state.      I  feel  that  horrid   hypo- 

I  of  both  body 


itofra; 


lelf.     It  is 


It  night  1 


e  he  pleased  ii 


had  bis 


after  the  first;  the  third  after  I 


le  thcee  years.    At  the  a 


ly  enjoy. 

1  I'll  fight 

of  veiy  decent 
i  Campbell,  ia 


F  apparent  worth.  On  New.year  Jay  even, 
ig  I  gave  him  the  following  prologue,  which 
B  spouted  to  bis  audience  with  applmise  :— 
No  song  nor  dance  I  bring  ftom  yon  great 

1  can  no  more.  If  once  I  was  dear  of 
as  damned  farm,  I  shoold  respire  marc  at 


Ho,t,db,  Google 


COEKESPONDEtreE  OP  BnEN3. 


TO  WILUAM  DUNBA.R,  W,  S. 

Ellislaiid.  Janmrg  iiih,  1790. 

BiNCE  we  are  here  ereatures  of  a  day, 

idn«  "i  fe»  sumniBc  d»y<,  end  a  fciF  wiulec 

nights,  aud  the  life  of  man  is  st  an  end," 

why,  my  dear  much  esteemed  Sir,  should 

iDO»  it  is  jiritbiug  worse-^lep  in  bet-veeu 
us,  and  bar  tbe  eiijoymaut  of  a  mutual  cor. 
Teapondeuce?  We  bte  uoC  slispen  out  of 
the  can)n:ian,  heavy,  meEliadice)  clod,  the 
cHemental  HtufF  of  the  ploddicie;  selfish  race, 
the  sons  of  Arithmetic  and  Prudence;  our 
feeUiig)  *ad  beuCs  are  uol  benumbed  aud 
poisoBed  by  the  cuised  influence  of  riches, 
iriiich,  whatever  blessui^  they  may  he  in 

quaUtiei  of  the  heart :  in  tha  name  of 
taudom  aensibiliCy,  then,  let  never  the  moon 
change  on  our  silence  any  more.  I  hate 
had  a  tract  of  bad  hculth  most  part  of  this 
ninter,  else  yon  had  lieord  fisjm  me  louj 
«re  now.  I^dc  Ueaven,  1  am  now  got  so 
much  better  as  to  be  able  to  partake  a  little 
in  the  enjoyments  of  life. 

Our  friend,  CunoinKham,  will  perhaps 
nave  tidd  you  of  my  going  into  the  lixcise. 
The  truth  is,  I  found  it  a  rery  cDDienieuC 


atancea  in  it  tliat  I  ivai 
Feb.  Slid.— I  hare  iiu 
bonnesa,  be«a  able  to  i , 
finish  my  letter.  Besides  . 
I  ride  on  my  Ji^KCLBe  m^ 
miles  every  «ee^.  I  have 
giren  up  the  Muses.    Yc 


lortifVing  dieuio- 
fof  sheer  harry  of 


Srd  v 


John» 


»iU  81 


songs  tint  I 
it  look  up 


But,  my  deal  Sir,  little 
to  you  for  paternal  prot< 

nanC  eha^e.  I  luive  already  two  line 
thy  stout  little  fcllosa,  and  I  wish  to 
throw  some  light  unou  them.  I  have  a 
thousand  reveries  and  schemes  about  them, 
and  their  future  destiny.  Not  that  I  am  a 
Utopian  projeclor  m  these  things,  1  am 
lesotved  never  to  breed  up  a  aou  of  mine  to 
any  of  the  learned  profes^ons,  I  know  the 
Talus  of  independence;  and  sinee  1  cannot 
give  my  sons  an  independent  fortune,  I  shall 
give  them  au  independent  line  of  life.  What 
a  chaos  (^  \iirrty,  chance,  aud  changes  is  this 
Borld,  when  one  sits  soberly  down  to  reflect 
00  it !  To  a  father,  who  himself  knows  the 
vorld,  the  thought  that  he  shall  hare  sons 
to  usher  mto  it  must  fill  him  with  dread; 


lit  if  he  have  daiigliteri,  the  prospect  in  n 
lOHghlful  moment  i*  apt  to  shock  him. 
I  hope  Mrs.  Fordyce  and  the  tivo  yonn; 
dies  are  well.  Do  let  rae  forget  that  they 
■e  nieces  of  yours,  and  let  rae  say  that  t 
Ever  saw  a  more  interesting,  sweeter  pair 
[  sisters  in  my  lite.  I  un  the  fool  of  my 
filings  and  attachments.  1  often  take  up  a 
ulnme  of  my  Spuiser  to  realise  you  to  my 
^agination  |99),  and  think  over  the  social 
xaci  ve  hive  had  together.    God  grant 


re  dump  hilarity  and  divide 
i  I  know  is  your  throng 
'  A  page  will  much  oblige 


TO  MRS.  DUNLOP. 
EtUalmd,  Jiumnry  ISih,  1790. 


Madam,  lou»  ere  now.    My  health  is  greatly 

m  satisfaction  and  eiijoyment  with  the  rest 
of  my  fellow-creatures. 

Many  thanks,  BiJ  much-esteemed  friend, 
for  your  kind  letters;  but  vvliy  will  yon  make 
me  run  the  risk  of  being  contemptible  aud 
mercenary  in  my  own  eyes?  When  1  pique 
myself  on  my  indepeudeat  spirit,  1  hope  in 
is  ninther  poetic  licence,  nor  poetic  rant : 
and  I  am  ao  flattered  with  the  honour  you 
have  done  me,  in  malung  me  your  compeer 
in  friendship  and  friendly  correspondence. 


itided  of  the  real  ine- 


mortification,  he  r< 

Most  sincerely  do  I  rejoice  with  you,  dei 
Madam,  in  the  good  nexs  of  Anthony.  Nc 
only  your  anxiety  about  his  fale.  but  m 
own  esteem  for  such  a  noble,  warai-hi: 
manly  yonug  fellow,  in  the  little  I  had 
accruointancfl,  has  interested  me  deeply  in  h 

Falconer,  the  unfortunate  anthor  of  tl 
"  Shipwreck,"  which  you  so  much  admire. 


■ted, 


Hosted  by  Google 


TO  MR.  PETES  HrLL. 


the  fond  moth™  think,  aa  ahe  hangs  delighted 
over  the  sw«t  little  leech  al:  her  t 
where  the  poor  feOavr  may  hereafter  w 


"  little  did  oij  i 
What  land  I  wi 


Iamo> 


0  give  j-ou 


.  B  ballad. 

which  1  am  sure  will  please  yon.  The  catas- 
trophe of  the  piece  is  a  poor  ratned  female, 
lamenting  her  fate.    She  concludes  nilh  this 

"Oh  that  my  father  had  ne'er  on  me  emil'd 

Oh  that  my  mother  had  ne'er  to  me  sung 
Oh  that  my  cradle  had  not  e'er  been  rnck'd 

But  that  1  had  died  when  I  was  young ! 
Oh  tliat  thf]  turf-clad  grave  it  vrere  my  bed ; 

My  blankets  irere  my  winding-ahcet ; 
The  clocks  and  the  wonoa  my  bedfellows 

■     ■     ■  undly  aweet  aa  I  sbo^ 


line.     Misery  is  like  love;   to  speak  i 
lamfuage  iiuly,  the  author  must  have  felt 
1  tm  every  day  expecting  tiie  doctor 
give  your  little  ^ilson  (IDIJ  the  aoiall-poi. 
It  is  rife  in  the  eouutry,  mid  I  tremble 
for  his  fete.     By  the  ira-y.  I  cannot  help 

£rery  person  who  sees  him  acknoal^ges 
him  to  be  the  lineal,  handsomeac  child  be 
has  ever  seen.  I  am  mj's^t  deUghted  with 
the  manly  smrfl  of  his  little  cheat,  anifscet- 

head,  and  the  glance  ot  his  fine  black  eye, 
which  promise  the  andtumted  gallantry  of  an 
independent  mind. 

I  thought  to  have  sent  you  some  rhyme! 
but  lime  fotbida.      I  promiae  you 


the  hraioui  of  as 


lu  poetr; 


TO  MR.  PETER  HILL, 


ElMai^  Feb.  2™!,  1790. 
No !  I  will  not  say  one  word  about 
apologies  or  CMUsea  for  not  writing ; — I  am  a 
poor,  raacally  ganger,  condemned  to  galhip 
at  least  ZOO  milea  every  ufeek  to  inspect 
dirty  ponda  »nd  yessty  barrelB,  and  where 


interestanybody?    The  upbraidings  of  my 

consrieace,  nay  the  upbraWinjs 

ofniywife. 

have  persecuted  me  on  your  ac 

eoonC  these 

two  or  three  months  past    Iw 

h  toGodl 

Wis  a  great  man,  that  my  cor 
might  throw  light  opon  yon,  to 

tfliTworld 

see  what  yon  really  are ;    and  t 

en  I  would 

make  your  fortune,   witlioiit 

putting  my 

hand  in  my  pocket  for  you,  w 

ich,  like  all 

other  great  men,  1  suppose  I  wo 

Id  avoid  as 

muchaaposaible.    What  are  yo 

doing,  and 

how  are  yon  doing?    Have  you 

lately  seen 

any  ofmy  few  friends?     What 

has  become 

of  the  BOTCOvan  befobm.  or 

how  ia  the 

fete  of  my  poor  namesake,  !\ 

ademoiaelle 

Burna.  decided?   Oh  man  1  bat 

or  thee  and 

thy  selfish  appetites,  and  dishoi 

St  artifices. 

unfortnnate  sacrifice  to  thy  pleaaures 


cheap  copy  of  "The  World."    Mr.  Arm- 
strong,  the  young  poet,  who  does  me  the 


t  I  think  his  style  in  prose 
Yoiir  book  came  safe,  and  I 


ind  Ferdinand  Count  Fathom.  1  still  want ; 
rat  as  I  said,  the  veriest  ordinary  copies 
*ill  serve  me.    I  am  nice  only  in  the  ap- 


them^  I  saw,  tlie  other  day,  prijposala  fo 
piilication,  entitled,  "  Bjuilt's  new  and  eo 
pkte  Christian's  Family  Bible,"  printed 
C.  Cooke,  Patemoater  Sov,  London.    1 

it  is  three  hundred  and  odd  engravinga, 
which  he  has  put  the  nemea  of  the  6 
Brtists  in  London.  (108)    You  wiU  know  t 


COTLRESPOSDENCE  OF  I1UR^'S. 


becB  erf  it  are 


published :  and  if  it  is  ret 
nii  to  be,  set  me  down  a; 
id    tend    me    the   inbtisbed    i 


In  fact  I  could  not  pluck 
te  to  you,  on  account  of  the 

■e,  indeed,  very  great,  both  on  the 


ia  from  eighteen 


lem;  and  thdr  encouroge- 
ordingly.  Their  uaual  run 
'  I  twenty-five  ponnds  B- 


n  less  tl 


■  pcrplesity  of  novelty  w 
eare  me  to  pnraue  my  coi 
:h  of  methodJcil  ranliEB. 


i.    W.   NICOIi 
i:Ulslmd,  Feb.  Sth,  1790. 


Inhere  haie  been  repeeled  instances  of  send- 
ng  away  sii,  and  eight,  and  ten  pounds 
L-night  for  want  of  room.  A  new  theatre  a 
,0  be  built  by  subscription ;  the  first  stone 
8  to  be  laid  on  Friday  Brat  to  come.  Three 
lund  red  guineas  huve  been  raised  by  thirty 
.ubacrihers,  and  thirty  mace  inight  bale  been 
^t  if  wanted.  The  manager,  Mr.  Siithec- 
and,  was  introduced  to  me  by  a  friend  from 
iyr:  and  a  worthier  or  cleverer  fellow  I 


description.  ludebied,  as  I ' 
goodness  beyond  what  I  can 
eagerly  grssped  at  your  offer 
mare  with  me.    That  I  might 

took  erety  care  of  her  m  my 


.  ,  n  by  stealth  now  and  i 
>y  have  got  up  a  ^rce  of  their  o 
1st  have  heard  how  the  Bev.  M 

Kirfcraahoe,  semnded  by  the 
Kirtpairick  of  Duoacore,  ai  '    ' 


i;  but 
Yoo 


e  graCefol, 


Che  unfortunate 


(aid    Herai 


formal  process. 
Rev.  Mr,   Heron,  o/ 

f  s^uls  in  KirkbeanI  he,  tha 
feloniously    and   treasonably 


in  fine  order  lor  Dum^ea  fiiw; 
oc  five  days  before  the  &ir,  she 
with  an  unaFCouutable  disorder  in 


i  Ciitb.aQfiiraaitaa 

[  the  word  of  God! 

:  Mrs.  B.  bega   to  be  remembered  moat 

f  gtatefuHy  to  you.    little  Bobby  and  Frank 

I  are  charmingly  well    and  healthy.    I   am 

r  jaded  to  death  wi"   '  "           "      "        '    ' 


her  fitlets.  anr 

uubinged,  and 
■ )  of  the  tn 


<  best  farr 


ital  want  of  power 
rt,  the  whole  vertebrie 
to  be  diseased  and 
and  forty  hours,  in 


ridden  less  than  20i 
done  little  in  the  p 
Kir.    Sutherland    1 


ETOge,  I  h 


ffhe  died,  and  he  — 
mid  that  she  hai' ' 

might  keep  a  Uti 

quite  worn  out  wiiii  latigue  an 

White  she  waa  with  nie,  she  9 


e  of  Chevy  Chaae,  by  way  of  Elegy 
[ue  she  got  here  was  Peg  Nicholson) 
Nicholson  waa  a  good  bay  mare. 


St  the  mouth  o"  Cair 


Hosted  by  Google 


gather  rniti  uid  apples  with  m 


TO  Snt,   CUSNIN&HASr.  361 

to    metliod,  ecooainy,  and  fertility  of  eipedi. 


TO  MR,  CUNNINGHAM.  (104) 
EUistrnd,  Febmary  ISth,  1790. 

I  BBQ  jour  pardon,  my  dear  and  lauch- 
talued  fnend.  for  writing  to  joq  oil  this 
very  uofeshioiiahle,  niiaightiy  abeet. 

My  poverty,  but  not  my  will,  coziaeuta. 

!Bn;t  to  make  amends,  since  of  modish  post 
I  hare  acme,  except  one  poor  widowed  half- 
sheet  of  gilt,  which  lies  in  my  drawer,  among 
my  plebeian  foolsiap  pa^es,  lilce  the  widow 
of  *  man  of  bshion,  whom  that  unpolite 
■conndrel.  Necessity,  has  driren  fromBur- 


atiety,  ilisgnst,  and  aelf-ahborrenoe.  There 
1  uot  a  doubt  hut  that  health,  talents, 
charncter,  decent  competency,  respectable 
frte^ids.  are  real  aubacanCial  blessings ;  and 
yet,  do  WB  not  daily  see  those  who  enjoy 
many  or  all  of  these  good  ttdngs,  contrive, 
notwithstanding,  to  be  as  unhappy  as  othera 
to  whose  lot  few  of  them  have  fallen?  I 
liem  one  Rceat  source  o!  tliia  mistake  oi 
sconduct  is  owin^  to  a  certain  stimulus, 

lill  ot   life;    not  as  we  ascend  other 
Mices,    tbr    t!ie    laudable  curiosity  at 

riewing  au  extended  laudscape,  hut,  rather. 

'--  "he  dishonest  pride  of   lookmj;    down 


sundy  and  Fiueapple.  to  a  dish  of  Buhea 

ingly  diminutiva  in  humbler  statio'ua,  &o 

with    the  ecaudal-bearing   help-mate  of  a 

&c 

village-priest!  or  a  glass  of  whisky-toddy. 

with  a  mhy-nosed  yoke-fellow   of  a  foot. 

Sunday,  Fibruaiy  Uth,  1790. 

Ooo  help  me]  lam  now  obliged  to  join 

this  sheet-full  of  epistolary  ftagnients  in  tluUi 

my  only  scrap  of  gil^pape^. 

Night  to  day,  and  Sunday  to  the  week. 

I  am,  mdeed,  your  worthy  debtor  for  three 

If  there  be  any  truth  in  the  orthodoi  feith 

ftiaidly  letters.    I  ought  to  have  written  to 

of  these  churches,  I  am |iast  re- 

yonlong  ers  now,  hut  it  is  a  literal  fiuzt,  I  have 

dempHon,  and,  what  is  *orae, to 

scarcely  a  spare  moment.    It  ia  not  that  1 

all  eternity.    I  am  deeply  read  in  Boston's 

will  iioi  write  to  you :  Mias  Burnet  is  not 

more  dear  to  her  guardian  angel,  nor  his 

fiutbrie's  Trial  of  a  Savins  Interest,  &j.; 

but,  "  there  is  no  Win  in  Gde»d,  there  is  no 

powers  of  darkness,  tlian  my  frieud  Cun- 

physician there,"   for  me;    so  I  sliall  e'en 

ningham  to  me.      It  is  not  that  I  eamot 

turn  Armiiiian,  and  trmt  to  "Suicere  though 

write  to  you ;  should  you  doubt  it,  take  the 

imperfect  obedience." 

foQowing  fragment,  which  was  mlended  for 

you  some  time  ago,  and  be  convinced  that  I 

2Wrf«!<,  IGti. 

Luckily    for  me,  I  was  prevented  from 

periods,  as  weU  as  any  comer  of  phrase  in 

the  discussion  of  the  knotty  point  at  whicb 
I  had  juat  made  a  tuU  stop.    All  my  feara 

the  regions  of  phdology. 

and  cares  are  ot  this  worlds    it  there  ia 

Dectmier,  1789. 

another,  an  honest  man  luu  nothing  to  fear 

iVom  it.    I  haw  a  men  that  wishes  to  be  a 

yon?    And  »hat  ate  you  doing?    Canyon 

be  that  son  of  levity,  who  takes  up  a  friend- 

inquirer must,  in  some  degree,  be  a  sceptic 

ship  as  he  takes  up  a  fashion ;  or,  are  you. 

It  IS  not  that  there  are  any  very  staf!gerin| 

like  some  other  of  the  worthiest  fellows  in 

arguments  ^inst  (he  immortal^  at  mui  j 
but,   hke   electricity,    phl^ton,   &c,  tha 

subject  is  so  involved  in  darkness,  that  wa 

What  strange  brangt  we  are!     Since  we 

want  data  to  go  upon.    One  thii«  frightens 

hale    a    portion     of    conscious    existence, 

me  much!   that  we    are  to  live  for  ever. 

eqmlly  capable  of  eiyoying  pleasure,  hap- 

seems loo  good  niwa  to  be  true.    TUmt  we 

piness,  and  rapture,  ot  of    suffering  pain. 

where,  eia;mpt  from  want  and  pain,  we  shall 

worthy  of  an  inquiry,  whether  there  be  not 

enjoy  ourselves  and    our    friends    without 

■neb  a  thing  as  a  sden^of  life;  whether 

satiety  or  separatum; — huw  much  ahould 

Ho,t,db,  Google 


any  one  ^Aho  cuuld  fuJly 

lorn  BOOH     Gud  bleaa  him 
msl      And  may  all   the 


SjiDO,  uBd  you  mcei ! 

FiDSlly,  liretiiren, 
tWngs  are  lovely,  ' 
gentle,  whataoever 
whatsoever  tilings  ai 


tbii4 


id  tMu 


Bai:iiie,Coineille,  and  Voltaire  too.    I  em  m 
no  hurry  for  all,  or  auy  of  these,  hut  if  yon 
accidently  meet  with  them  very  cLieap,  get 
them  for  me.  (105) 
And  uow,  to  quit  tiie  dry  walk  of  business. 


so  sJejaiiHjf  handsome,  at  least 


1  am  out  of  all  paticope  with  tliis 
orld,    for    one  thm;;.    Maukind   e 


At  ■  late  loectinjf  of  the  Monklanil 
Friendly  Sodety,  it  was  resolved  to  aiif;menc 
their  library  by  the  following  books,  which 
yoD  ai'e  to  send  ns  as  soon  as  possible : — 
The  Mirror.  The  Lounger,  Man  of  Feeling, 
Man  of  the  World  (these,  for  my  own  sake, 
Iwuh  to  have  by  the  first  carrier),  Knoi's 
Hiat«ry  of  the  Eeformation ;  Eae'a  Histoty 
of  the  Rebellion  ia  1715 ;  any  good  History 
of  the  Rebellion  in  17461  A  Disphiy  of 
the  gecessiou  Act  and  Testimony,  by  Mr, 
Gib;     Hervey's    Meditationa;    Beveridge's 


f  of  Wat: 


by 
a  Sew 

scoundrelly  instances.  I  do  not  think  that 
avarice  of  the  good  things  we  chance  to 
have  is  born  with  ns :  but,  we  are  placed 

and  poverty,  and  want,  that  we  are  under  ti 
cursed  necessity  of  studying  BeHishness,  in 

in  every  age,  a  few  souls,  that  al!  the  wants 
and  woes  of  life  cannot  debase  to  selfiah- 
nesa,  or  even  to  the  necessary  alloy  of 
caution  and  prudence.  If  ever  I  am  in 
danger  of  vanity,  it  is  when  I  contemplate 
myself  on  this  side  of  toy  disposition  and 
character.  God  knows,  I  am  no  saint;  I 
have  a  whole  host  of  (bHies  and  sins  to 
answer  for ;  but  if  I  could,  at.d  I  believe  I 


have  heard  from  neither  oi 


not  other  of 

la  addition  to  the  books  1  commiasioned 
in  my  last.  I  want  very  much  An  Index 
the  Esdse  Laws,  or  an  Abridgement  of  all 
the  Statutes  now  in  force  relative  to  the 
Eicise,  by  Jellinger  Symons ;  I  want  three 
copies  of  this  booh ;  if  it  is  now  to  be  had, 
cheap  or  dear,  get  it  for  me.     An  honest 

Family  Bible,  the  larger  the  hi 
■econd-handed,  for  he  does  not 
give  above  ten  shillings  for  the  boot.    I 


!  modern   Maoklm,   Garriclt, 


TO  MRS.  DUNLOP. 

El!!ilai,d,  April  low,  1790. 
I  BAVB  just  now,  my  ever-hononred 
friend,  enjoyed  a  very  high  luxury,  in  read- 
ing t,  paper  of  the  Lounger.  You  know  my 
iiatioral  prejudices.  I  bad  often  read  and 
admired  the  Spectator,  Adventurer,  Bamhler, 
a:id  World  ;  but  still,  with  a  certain  regret 
that  they  were  so  tlioroughly  and  entirely 
English.  Alas  I  have  I  often  said  to  myself, 
what  are  all  the  boasted  advantages  which 
my  country  reaps  from  the  union,  that  can 
counterbalance  the  annihilation  of  her  mde- 
pendence,  and  even  her  very  name !  T  o^en 
repeat  that  couplet  of  my  favounte  poe^ 
Goldsmith— 

Though  very  poor,  may  yet  be  very  biest. 


Hoifdb,  Google 


TO  COLLECTOR  MITCHELL 

Nothing  tea  reconcile  me  to  the  commot 
tetms.  En£:lish  ambssaarlot,  English  oourl 
iC  of  all  imtience  to  sa 


tbat  eqaivocul  clia  .  .  , 
peacheil  by  "the  Commoiu  of  Euglaiid." 
Tell  me,  my  friend,  is  tbie  ve>\  prejudice  ? 
1  beliefo,  on  my  conacience,  aucb  ideas  as — 

oar,  the  illiutrions  names  tbet  mark  the 
history  of  my  native  land,"  &c — I  believe 
theae,  ainoug  your  men  of  Ihs  world, — men 
vho,  in  fact,  guide  for  the  most  pact  oiid 
go'etn  our  nocld,— are  looked  on  as  so  many 
modiHcatiaiLH  of  vrong-beadedness.  They 
laiaw  the  use  of  bavling  out  such  terms,  to 
muse  or  lead  las  babble;  but  lot  tbeii 
own  private  u^,  uitli  ^moat  all  the  able 
ttoltimea  that  ever  existed,  or  now  eiist, 
when  they  talk  of  light  and  nrong,  they 
only  nteau  proper  and  improper ;  and  their 
meadui«ofcouduct  is  not  what  they  ouQHTr 
but  Hhat  they  DARE.  For  the  truth  of 
this.  I  aliall  oot  ransack  the  history  of 
1,  but  appea" 


Ivho  could  tboronghly  control  hia  >icea 
ivhenevei  they  inCertbred  with  hit  interesCg, 
>nd  irlio  could  completely  put  on  tlie  ap- 
pearance of  every  virtue  as  often  as  it 
suited  his  purposea,  is^  on  tlie  Stanhojiian 
plau.  the  perjtcl  nuw;  a  man  to  lead 
nations.  But  are  great  abilities,  complete 
vithout  a  flaw,  and  polislied  withont  a 
hieraiah,  the  standard  of  human  escellence  ? 
This  is  certainly  the  staunch  opinion  of  men 
qf  tit  morldi  but  I  call  on  honour,  rirCiia, 
and  worth,  to  give  the  Stygian  doctriire  a 
ICRtd  negative  f  However,  this  must  be 
allon  eiL  that,  if  you  abstract  tcoiP  man  the 


proper  and  iiBproper;  virtue 
dispositions  of  the  heart,  are, 
of  scam^ly  the  same  import  ao 


tiiough  it  may  sometimes  give  the  posae 
an  ecstacy  unknown  to  the  coarser  or; 
of  the  herd,  ye;,  cDnsidi:ring  the  h 
gratings,  and  inharmonic  jars,  in  this 


vdthoni  either  a  good  ear 

You  mast  know,  t  have 

Mirror  k\A  Lounger  for  t 


be  glad  to  have  your  opinion  of  some  of  the 

No.  61,  has  cost  me  more  honest  'tears  than 
any  tWng  I  have  read  of  a  long  time.  |ll>6) 
KUckenzia  has  been  called  the  Addison  of 
Scots,  and,  n 


luld  ni 


.  AddisD 


irisoti.    It  he 

1  in  the  tender  and  the 
of  Feeling  |bat  I  am 


I  estimate  as  the  first  perfonnttnce  in  it) 
kind  I  ever  saw.  From  wliat  hook,  moral 
or  even  jiions,  will  the  susceptible  young 

humanity  tuid  kinducss,  gcnerout;  and  be- 


others— than  from  t 
of  poor  Harley  ? 
"-■ll.flitballmyad 


ifthcy  are  the  attest 


nt,  as  the  phrase  is,  to  make  his  way  into 
fe.  So  not  you  think,  Sf  adnm,  that  among 
He  Ibif  tivoin^  of  Heaven  in  the  stmctups 
f  their  minds  (fiir  such  there  certainly  are), 
lere  may  be  a  purity,  a  tenderness,  a 
igtiity,  an  elegance  of  soul,  vhich  are  of  no 
se,  nay,  in  some  degree  absolutely  di»- 
quahfying,  for  the  truly  important  business 
of  making  a  man's  way  into  life  I  If  I  am 
not  much  mistslien,  my  gallant  young  friend. 
A'"****,  is  very  much  under  these  disquali- 
fications; and,  for  the  young  females  of  u 
fiimily  I  could  mention,  weil  may  they  eicite 


mtly  happy,  or  peculiarly  miserable ! 
I  have  been  mannfaeinring  some  vcrsea 
tely ;  but  as  1  Imre  got  the  most  harried 
ason  of  Excise  busuiess  over,  I  hope  to 
Lve  more  leisure  to  transcribe  any  thing 


TO  COLLECTOR  MITCHELL. 

EUalmd,  1790. 
Sir — I  shall  not  kH  to  wait  on  Captain 
Kddel  to-liight^I  wish  and  pray  tliat  the 
goddess  of  justice  herself  would  appear  to- 
morrow amoi^  our  hon.  gentlemen,  merely 
to  give  them  a  word  in  their  car  that  mercj 


Ho,t,db,  Google 


COKRESPOSDENCE  OF  BUIINS. 


to  the  thief  is  mjustice  to  the  hones 
For  my  patC,  I  have  galloped  oier  i 
parishes  these  four  days,  until  thia  m 
that  I  am  just  alighted,  or  rather,  tl 
poor  jackass-skelelon  of  a  horee  has  1 
down  ;  for  the  miietahle  devil  has  h< 
his  knees  half  a  acore  of  times  with 


miles,  tl 


your  different  qualities  and  merits  *a  novel 
writers.  This,  I  own,  betrays  my  ridiculous 
vanity,  and  I  may  prohahly  never  hring  the 

spirit  young  Elihu  shows  in  the  hook  of 

llsllgured  my  cop; 


way,  "  Behold,  a 
many  years  I " 
Tind,  and    almos 


;  I  thy  ftithful  jade  i 
luDu  hast  ridden  the 

hive  broke  my  horse 
hroke  ray  own  nee! 
3  in  a  part  that  shall  1 


k  saddle.  I  iind  that  every  oifender  1 
many  great  men  to  espouse  liia  cause,  i 
■hall  not  he  surprlseil  if  i  am  committ 
the  atrong-hoM  of  the  law  to-morro' 
insolence  to  the  dear  friends  of  the  g 
men  of  the  country,  i  have  the  honn 
be.  Sir,  youi  obliged  and  obedient  In 


TO  DIt.  MOORE. 
Diim/ricj,  ErWf-OjBis,  July  Ulh,  1 
Sir — Coming  into  town  thia  momiu 
attend  my  di 


take  the  opportunity  of  writing  to  ; 
franking  is  at  present  under  a  leni 
death.  I  shall  liave  some  snalches  of 
through  the  day,  amid  out  horrid  bi 
■ud  bustle,  and  1  sliall  improi 


aa  short  as  a  hungry  grace-hefore-meat,  or 
as  long  *9  a  law.paper  in  the  Douglas  cause ; 
u  ill-spelt  aa  country  John's  billet-doui, 
or  as  unsightly  a  setawl  aa  Betty  Byre- 
Mucker's  answer  to  it ;  I  hope,  conaideting 

will  put  you  to  no  CKpeuse  of  postage,  I 
shall  have  the  less  reBection  about  it. 

I  am  sadly  ungrateful  in  not  returning 
you  my  thaiis  for  yout  moat  valuable  pre- 
sent, Zelaco,  In  feet,  you  are  ui  some 
degree  bhuneable  for  my  neglect.  You  were 
pleased  to  eipress  a  wiah  for  my  opinion 


thau 


LC,  that  nothini 


less  would  serve  my  overweening  ftnoy,  thi  _ 
a  ibrmal  criticism  on  the  book.  In  fitct,  1 
have  gravely  phumed  a  comparative  view  of 
you,  fielding,  Bichardion  ajid  Smollett,  in 


with   asterisks. 


of  the  book  with  my  annotati 
lake  it  up  without  at  " 
my    pencil,  and    mai 
parentheses,  &c.,  wherever  I 

and    manners,    a    remarkable,    well-turned 
period,  or  a  cliatacter  sketched  with  un- 

Though  I  should  hardly  think  of  fairly 
writing  out  my  "Comparative  View,"  I 
aliall  certainly  trouble  you  wilh  my  remarks, 
such  as  they  are. 

I  have  just  received  from  my  gentleman 
that  horrid  summons  in  the  book  of  Reve- 
lation—"'niat 


The  lit 


charming  poetry  in  Ihcm.  If.  indeed,  I  am 
indebted  to  the  fair  author  for  the  hook  (!07), 
and  not,  as  I  rather  suspect,  to  a  cetebraled 
author  of  the  otliet  set,  I  should  certainly 
have  written  to  the  lady,  with  my  gratefat 
acknowledgments,  and  my  own  ideas  of  tlw 
comparative  excelleuce  of  her  pieces.  I 
would  do  this  last,  not  from  any  vanity  of 


,o  Mrs. 


nith,  but 


fof  n: 
erely  from 


TO  MR.  MURDOCH, 


EUUhf!d,Ji<lyim,n3a. 


journeyingg  through  Scotland,  I  mislaid  « 
lost  it,  and,  by  consequence,  yout  direction 
along   with    it.     Luckily,    my    g      ' 


brought 

me  acq 

lunted  w 

th  Mr.  Ken 

who,! 

vours: 

and  by 

and  mediat 

,opeto 

that  tin 

which  my 

negh";e 

ice  had 

0  unluckily  b 

Ho,t,db,  Google 


TO  ME,  CCHNINGHAM. 


sbove  an  t1 


might  liEvepaid  his  _.  , __ _ 

His  l89t  oddwashe  senttoino  was,"  Wm. 
Bums,  at  Mr.  Barber's,  saddler.  No.  181, 
Strand."  I  writ  hini  faj  Mr.  Kennedy,  but 
neglected  to  ask  him  for  your  addresa ;  ao, 
if  you  find  >  apate  balf  mimite,  please  let 
my  brother  know  by  a  card  where  and  when 
he  vill  find  ;ou,  and  the  poor  fellon  will 
goyfollj  wait  oo  you,  as  one  of  the  tew 
surviving  friends  of  ttie  man  ubose  name, 
and  Christuui  name  too,  be  has  the  honour 

The  nait  letter  I  writ*  yon  aliall  be  a  long 
orxe.  I  have  much  to  telt  yon  of  "  hair- 
breath  'scapes  in  th'  imminent  deadly 
breach,"  with  all  the  eventful  history  of  a 
lii^,  the  eaiiy  yeAra  of  which  owed  ao  much 
to  your  kind  tutmiige ;  hut  this  at  cm  hour 
of  leiSBte.    My  kindest  compliments  to  Mra. 


TO  Ma,  M'MURDO. 

Ellitlend,  AusasC  2t«f,  1790. 
Sir — Now,  that  you  are  over  with  the 
nreus  of  Battery,  (be  harpies  of  Corruption, 
and  the  furies  of  Ambition— tliese  inferual 
deities,  that  ou  al)  sides,  and  in  all  parties, 
preside  over '      ' 


to  do  her  beat  H 
1  koev  Henderson — '. 


«ofy< 


A.sk  me  not  why  I  have  delayed  it  so  Ion 
it  was  owii^  to  liutry,  indolence,  and  fi 
other  things ;  in  short,  to  anything  I 
fbrgetfulneas  of  la  plvz  aitnitble  lie  ton  as 
By  the  bye,  you  ate  indebted  your  b 
courtesy  to  me  for  this  last  compliment, 
1   pay  it    ttom   my  sincere  conviction 


bruised  to-day  '.    A  ci-deoant  friend  of  m 


TO  MK  CUNNINGHAM, 

EUisUind,  Aiigmt  8i/(,  179a 
FoRoivE   me,  my  nnce  dear,  and  ever 
dear  friend,  my  seecning  negligence.    You 
cannot  sit  down  and  &iicy  tlie  busy  life  1 
lead, 

I  laid  down  my  goose  feathet  to  beat  my 
brains  for  an  apt  simile,  and  had  aomo 
thoughts  of  a  country  gtaouuui  at  a  tkmily 

before  her  mntriage,  or  a  tavern-kee[ier  at 
that  hits  my  fancy  best  is,  that  blackguard 
in,  seeking,  KarcAi™  whom  ha 


roaring  Uon 


Ho»e 


_  .  would  not  choose?) 

to  binil  down  with  the  craraneta  of  atten- 
tion the  brasen  foundation  of  integrity,  I 
may '  rear  up  the  saj>erstructure    of  hide' 

UetioilcB  to  the  storms  of  late,  Aild  ll 
not  this  a  "  couaummaliou  devoutly  to  ha 


Thysp 


Independence,  lei 


akyi 


aeabare; 
eagle-eye! 

Qwla  alon^  tha 


noble  verses  ?    They  ai« 

of  Smolletfs  Ode  to  In- 

the  poem, 

.    ,  in.     How  wrelched  is  the 

man  tliat  hangs  on  by  the  favours  of  the 
^reat!    To  shrink  from  every  dignity  of 


h  of  a 


self-consequei 
glitter  and  sb 
formed  as  t 
so  n'ell  form 


irdly  p 
aU  his 


lotigh  didst,  and 

:n  must,  a  naked 

It.  B.  (i09) 


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COEIlESrONDEKCE  OF  BUENS. 


TO  DR.  ANDERSON. 
Slit — I  am  Tiiiioh  imiebted  to  my  worth)' 
fnenil.  Dr.  ElackLock.  for  introducing  me  to 
>  gentleman  of  Dr.  Anderson's  celebrity ; 
but  when  you  do  me  tilt  honour  to  aak  ray 
■raialan^  in  your  proposed  publicatiun, 
alas.  Sir  t  yon  m^bt  m  sell  think  Co  clieapen 
B  little  honesty  W  the  sign  of  an  advocale'i 
vi^  OE  buimlity  ander  the  Oeneia  baud, 
1  un  a  miserable  humed  devil,  norn  to  the 
marrow  in  the  frictian  of  holding  the  noses 
of  the  poor  publicans  to  the  grindstone  of 
the  Kieise !  and.  liJie  Milton's  Suaii,  for 
prisate  reaaous,  am  fowed 
Ih  do  ahttt  yet  thoHgk  dama'd  I  woald  abhor, 

B.  B.  (110) 


TO  CRAUFOKD  TAIT,  Esa, 


..   _.^hten  the  countenance  and  gild  the 

heart  of  such  depressed  youth  1     I  am  not 

so  augry  with  mankind  for  their  deaf  eco- 

y  of  the  purse :  the  goods  of  this  world 

ot  be  cUvided  without  being  lessened — 


rsel<» 


mthew 


of  eiijoyme 
n  tlie  cloak  of 


We 


>t  hand 


the  selfish  apathy  ot 
the  world  at 


l  nAirea 


hat 


Dbah  E 


llisland,  Ostobir  15tk,  1790. 

. — Allow  me  to  introduce  to 
fonracqHainljtnoe  the  bearer.  Mr.  Wm.  Dun- 
nn.  a  friend  of  mine,  wlmm  I  hare  long 
{uowu  and  {ong  loved.  His  father,  whose 
inly  son  he  is,  baa  a  decent  little  property 
n  Ayrshire,  and  h»s  bred  the  young  man  tu 


lating  implication,  sbicb 

positive  request,  plainly  eipressf 

-'-  -  talent  not  to  he  acquired 
Tell  me  Chen,  far  you  e 
ihraais  of  langu^e.  in  what  cnvomFO- 
in  of  phrase,  I  shall  enielope,  yet  not 

conceal,  this  plain  story — "  My  dear  Mr. 

■"  ■  my  ftiend  Mr.  Dunem,  ■bom  I  ha»B 
deasure  ot  iatrodncing  to  yon,  is  b 

young  lad  of  your  own  profCsaon,  and  a 

~~~'''':nLBn  of  much  modesty  and  great 
I,  Periiaps.  it  may  be  in  yonr  power 
ist  him  in  th^  to  lum,  importaut  con- 
ition  of  getting  a  place,  h  '  " 


dl  dt 


il?d^  myael^  that  lie  v 

You  may  possibly  bo  snrpnsed.  Sir,  at 
luch  a  letter  from  me ;  'tis,  I  own,  in  the 
isiial  way  of  calculating  these  matters,  more 


ougli,ana    : 


give  yon  my  friend's  character 

more  than  uiougb,  lor  comin< 
his  heart.  wUeu  nature  had 
kindly  clay  that  composes  it 


Yon,  my  good  Sir,  were  hom  under  kinder    ; 
jtsra  J   but  your  fraternal  sympathy,  I 
know,  can  enter   into  the  feeluigs  of  the    . 
young  man  wlio  goes  into  life  wiEh  the  la 
dable  muhition  to  da  sometliuig,  and  to 
something,  among  his  fellow-creatures,  h 
whom  the  consdouauess  of  friendless  obsf 


rliyming  u< 


Even  the  direst  of  bis  nrtues  are  against 
him.  That  independent  spirit,  and  tliat 
ingenuous  roodesiy,qualitiee  inseparable  from 
a  noble  mind,  are,  with  the  million,  chcum. 
ttancee  not  a  little  disquahfyuig.  What 
pleasure  is  in  the  power  of  the  fortunate  and 
the  happy,  by  their  Dotiee  and  patronage. 


'and  then.  Every 
share  of  the  cares  and 
lins  of  life,  and  my  situation,  1  am  per- 
laded,  has  a  full  ordinary  allowance  of  its 
leasures  aud  enjoyments. 
My  best  compUments  to  your  lather  and 
lias  Tait  If  yon  have  an  oppoctunity, 
please  remciober  me  in  the  aoienin-league- 
"   "■ '  f.'  — j.i.:^  ^  j^||.g^  Lewis 


Hay.    I  al 


of  fi 
■  wretch  for  n 


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TOMES.  I 

oysMr  in  its  shdt.      Where  is  Lsily  M'Ken- 
tie?  wherever  ibe  is,  God  bleaa  herl      I 
likewise  be?  leave    to    trouble    you    with    I 
coDipliTqents  to  Mr.  Wm.  Hamilton,  r 
Hamilton,  and  fomilj,  and  Mrs.  Chalm 
vhea    yoii  are  ia    that  country.      Should    i 
you  meet  with    Miss  Niaimo,  please 
luember  me  Iciodlj  to  her. 


TO  DR.  BLACKCOCK, 

EllUlmd,  1790. 
De*e  Sir— Whether  in  the  ivoy  of  my 
trade,  I  can  be  of  aiiy  service  to  llie  Bev. 
Dootor,  is,  I  fear,  very  douhtful,  Aju's 
■hield  consisteil,  I  thuik,  of  seiea  but!  hides, 
*nd  a  plate  of  brass,  wUiuh,  altogether,  set 
Hector's  utmost  force  at  defiaoce.  Alas!  I 
am  no    a      ^    '.^      J  «  ^  Ajar^' 


bigotry,  b 


JS 


upidity, 


malevolence,  self-conceit,  envy — all  st 
bound  in  a  massy  tranie  of  brazen  ii 
deuce.     Good  Goi  Sir  (    to  aueh  a  al 
humour  is  the  peek  of  a  sparrow,  and  s 
the  pop-gun  of  a  school-hoy.    Cteation-dis- 
gracitig-  scelerats  such  sa  they,  God  onl 
cau  meiid,  and  the  devil  only  can  punish.  I 
the  comprehensive  way  of  Calif^la,  I  wis 


pfeacli  for  joy,  as  I  have  done  in  the  com- 
encement  of  this  epistle,  is  a  pitch  of  ei- 
svagant  raptnre   to   which  1  never  rosa 

I  read  your  letter — I  literally  jiunped  for 

a  poet  liimpishfy  keep  his  seat,  on  the 
cnpt  of  the  best  news  from  his  best  jriend. 
seized  my  glll-headed  Wangee  rod,  an  in- 
rument   indispensably  uecessary, 

rapture;    and   stride,  ttride- 

I  of  Nith  to  musa  over  my  joy  t^ 
.  To  keep  within  the  bounds  of  prose 
^possible.    Airs.  little's  is  a  more  el»- 

the  sweet  little  fellow,   tlian  I,  ejtempore 

Sweet  flow'ret,  pledge  o'  meitle  love. 

What  heart  0'  stane  wad  thoii  na  move, 

Sae  helpless,  sweet,  and  foir! 
November  hitplea  o'er  the  lea 

Chill  on  thy  lovely  fbmi ; 
And  gane,  alas  !  the  shelfiing  tree 

Should  shield  thee  frae  the  stomL 
May  He,  who  gives  the  rain  to  pout^ 

And  Vium  the  blast  to  bLaw, 

Iv^i^  show'r. 


Protect  and  guard  tli 
BnC  late  she  flourish 


ounds. 


And  fn 


any  a  pan 


TO   Mr?  UUNIOP.  (Ill) 

EUisland  Nimember,  17D0. 


Fate  lias  lung  owed  me  a  letter  of 

tidings  of  sorrow  wliich  I  liave  received.    In 
this  instance,  I  most  cordially  obey  the 
tie — "  liejoice  with  them  that  do  r«joic 
IVu  me  to  linjr  ttc  ysj,  ii  no  new  thmg 


1  am  much  flattered  by  your  approbation 
of  ray  "Tarn  o'  Slranter,"  which  you  express 
in  your  former  letter;  though,  by  the  bye, 
jou  load  me  in  that  said  letter  with  accusa- 
tions heavy  and  many,  to  all  which  I  plead 
not  guilty!  Your  book  is,  I  bear,  on  the 
toad  to  reach  me.  As  to  printing  irf  poetry, 
when  you  prepare  it  for  the  press,  yon  have 
only  to  spell  it  right,  and  place  the  capital 
letters  properly— as  to  the  punctuation,  the 
printers  do  that  themselves. 

I  have  a  copy  of  "  Tarn  o'  Shantw"  ready- 
to  send  you  by  the  first  opportunity — it  is 
too  heavy  to  send  by  post 


Ho,t,db,  Google 


I  httttd  of  Mr.  Corbel  (112)  lately, 
in  consequence  of  your  recommendatiD 
moat  lealona  to  sene  me.  Please  favom 
•oan  with  an  >u»H)unt  of  your  gnad  folks 


CORIIESPONDENCE   OF  EUENS. 
ly  power  to  aoy  thai 


TO  CHARLES  SHA.BPE,  Eko., 


and  for 


ue,  Sit,  you  ere  a  geutlemon  of  raiil 

iii  the  cap  of  Society,  and  I  am  s 
very  hob^iail  in  tua  ahoea;  yet  1  hare  tbe 
boaout  to  lieloi^  to  the  Buue  bniily  with 
jou,  and  on  that  soora  I  now  address  you. 
Vou  will,  perlmps,  suspect  that  J  am  ^oino;  to 
claim  ilGnity  with  the  ancient  and  honour- 
able liooae  of  Xirkpitrick.  No,  no,  Sir ;  I 
raiinot  indeed  be  properly  said  to  heloi^  to 
any  hoiue.  or  even  any  province  or  kingdom ; 

spouse  to  a  marching  tejpmenl,  gave  me  into 
thid  had  world,  aboaid  the  picket-boat, 
aomeniiete  betireen  Donaghadec  and  Port- 
patrick.  By  out  common  fiimily,  I  mean. 
Bir,  the  family  of  the  muses,  i  bid  a  fidrllec 
and  a  poet ;  and  you,  1  am  told,  play  an  ei. 

lettres,    Tlie  other  day,  a  brother 

in.    If  I  wa>  pleased    witii   the 

.  la  in  [Hpturea  with  the  title  you 

have  given  it;  and,  taking  up  the  idea,  1 
have  spun  it  mto  the  three  stanzas  enclosed. 
Wiil  yon  allow  me,  Sir,  to  present  you  them, 
aa  the  deareat  offering  tluit  a  misbegotten 
con  of  poverty  and  rhyme  has  to  give  I  I 
have  a  longing  to  take  you  by  the  hand  and 
onbutdeu  my  heart  by  aaying,— "  Sir,  I 
bouour  you  as  a  man  who  aupporte  the  dig- 
baaed  us  below  the  hmtea  that  perish  I " 
But,  alas,  Sitl  to  me  you  are  unapproaoh. 
able.  It  ia  true,  the  muses  baptised  me  in 
"       "  "  '        thoughtlea 


keep  together  their  many 
As  to  the  aHaic  of  shoe 
np.  My  pil^mages  i 
from    town  to  town,  ai 


tlie  belli 
ca^ut  g 
couiposit 


many  a 


J  fellou 


.9  the 


le  bavegiven  me  a  great  ilealof  pl( 

hut,  bewitcnmg  jades  !  they  have  beggared 
me.    Would  they  but  spate  me  a  little  of 


hide  of  JobS  behei 
coat  on  my  hack  is  no  more;  t  shall  not 
speak  evil  of  the  dead.  It  would  be  equally 
uuliandaome  and  ungrateful  to  Hud  fealt  with 
my  old  surtout,  which  ao  kindly  supplies 
and  conceala  the  vant  of  that  coat.  My  hat, 
imleed,  ia  a  great  favourite;  and  though  I 
got  it  literally  fbt  aji  old  aoi^;,  I  would  not 
■  -'-ng;e  it  for  the  best  beaver  in  Britam.  I 
.  luring  several  years,  a  kind  of  factotum 
servant  to  a  country  dergyman,  wliere  I 
picked  np  a  good  many  scraps  of  learning, 
particularly  in  some  branches  of  the  matha- 
maties.  Wlienevec  I  feel  inclined  to  rest 
myaelf  on  my  way,  I  take  my  seat  nnder  ■ 
hedges  laying  my  poetic  wallet  on  the  one 
aiLle,  and  my  Addle-caae  on  the  other,  and, 
placing  my  hat  between  my  legs,  1  can  by 
loeana  of  its  brim,  or  rather  brims,  go 
tlirough  the    r'-'-    '    '      -      '  "' 


!t.  Sir,  dan 


and  poverty,  I  am  as  in 
more  happy,  than  a  ni 
Aecordii^  to  the  hael 


simply  as  they  act  their  parts.    I  ea 


worthless  fetli 
contempt,  and  cai 
Enger  with  sincere 
through  your  rfile  h 


unqunliiied 

Tsir.'go 
iguished 

the  honour  to  be,  &e.  (U3j 


TO  LADY  W.  il,  CONSTABLE. 
EUishnd.UtiJanuati/,  17DI. 
Mv  Ladi— Nothing  less  than  the  \m- 


Ho,t,db,  Google 


TO  ME.   PETER  HIIX. 


moment  I  recraved  yonr  Imlyship's  elegant 
present  (111|  b;  M13.  Miller,  from  retiimitig 
jou  my  warmest  »nd  mnst  Kratefal  acknow- 
ledftmenta.  I  assure  your  ladi'sllip,  I  aliaii 
sfC  it  apart— the  symbols  of  religion  shall 
only  be  more  (acred.  In  the  moment  of 
pwtic  coDijiosiiion,  the  bon  shall  be  my  in- 
Bpiriiig  geiiiiis.  When  I  would  breathe  the 
comprehensive  wish  of  lienesolence  for  the 
lia()|iineas  of  others,  I  shall  tecullect  your 

shall  remember  the  mifortunate  Ifarv 

RB. 


TO  WILLIA.JI  DUNBAR,  W.  S. 
EU'alaiid  Jaiaiaiy  17H,  1791. 


it  going  to  Elysium 


ai5). 


;ing  my  God  by  propa- 
f-a[iii?  hii  image,  and  honouring  my  king 
hy  begetting  him  loyal  subjects. 

Man;  h>{ipy  retunu  of  the  season  airait 
my  friend.  May  the  thorns  0/  care  nerer 
be^  hid  path  !  May  peace  he  an  mmate 
of  his  boaom,  and  nature  a  frequent 
vifitor  of  his  soul !    May  the  blood-houudg 

scr?ech-owl  of  aorroir  alarm  his  dwelling  1 
May  enjoyment  tell  thy  hours,  and  pleasure 
lunnbec  thy  days,  thou  friend  of  the  bard! 
"DIessod    he    he  that    bleaseth  thee,  and 


et  friends,  shoul 
r,  yon  will  fevoi 


a  poem,  the 
'  a  particular 
o  show  it  to 
k  it  worthy  a 


TO  MR.  PETEK  HILI^ 

Ellislawl,  JamiaTi;  nih,  1791. 
Take  these  two  gumeas,  and  place  them 


ngs  as  apologies 
Ohtbesupren 


9  littl 


e  good 


!  of  making  three 
five!  Not  all  the 
iai>ours  01  HercuJes ;  not  ell  tlie  Hebtew>' 
three  centuries  of  Esyp''""  bondage,  wers 
such  an  insuperable  bnsineas,  snch  an 
infemnl  task  I !  Poverty,  thou  half-siaMr  o( 
death,  tliou  cou3ia.^ctnian  of  bell  1 — wber« 
shall  I  find  force  of  execration  equal  to  the 
amplitude  of  thy  demerits  ?    Oppressed  by 


lee,  the  n 


ent,  gro. 
at^igc  VI  every  virtue,  laden  vith  years 
rretchedmss,  itnploies  a  httle,  httle 
■  support  his  existence,  ftom  a  atony- 


with  ind^]idence,  and  melts  with  araai. 
bilitr,  inwardly  pines  under  the  ne^ect,  or 
writliea,  in  bitterness  of  soul,  uuder  the 
Lely  of   arrogant,    nnfeehng  q 


Oppressed  I 
whose  ill-star 
tables  of  the  faslnc 


f  genius, 

id  polite,  mnat 
see,  m  auaeniig  siiencc,  ms  remark  neg- 
lected, and  hia  person  despised,  while 
aUlov  greatness,  in  his  idiot  attempts  at 
wit,  shall  meet  with  countenance  and  ap- 
plause.   Nor,  is  it  only  the  femily  of  worth 

cbildreu  of  folly  and  lice,  though  in  common 
with  tliee  the  oBspring  of  e?il,  smart  equally 
under  thy  rod.  Owing  to  thee,  the  man  of 
unfortunate  dispoMtion  and  n^lected  educa- 
tion, is  condemned  as  a  fk>^  for  hia  dis- 
sination.  desnised  and  shunned  as  a  needy 
lud  hrisig  him 


and  wiien  his  ui 


iihoneat  praclic 

justice  of  his  country.  But,  fiv  oth 
tlie  lot  of  the  man  of  family  and  fo 
His  early  follies  and  eitravl^ai 
spirit  and  fire; — itj  consequent  w 
the    embarrasments    of  an  hmiest 

gained  a  le^al  commission  to  plunde 

returns,  perhaps,  laden  with  the 
rapine  Bnd  murder;   11—  - 


and  insulted,  ridilen 
the  giidty  assiguatit 


icked  and  n 

:l  and  a  I01 

lUs  for  helpless  womoi 


)— she  whoy  without 


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COEKESPOSDENCE  OF  BUESS. 
0  pkul,  riots  nishtly    or  Ihe  fast  judges,  wi 

with  Che  good. 


NNINGIIAUt, 
[and  Jan.  23rf,  1791, 
irus  ot  the  seeson 


I  GscB  just  finished  a  poem  {"Tarn  o'  Shen- 
tet"),«hich  you  will  receive  eiicJused.  Icis 
my  first  essay 


moiitlis  been  liar 
ing  at  sii  elegy  on  the  amiable  and  a 
pUslied  Sliss  Burnet.  1  linve  got,  aii 
gct^  no  farttier  than  the  tblloning  fiag 
OD  which  please  give  me  yoiir  stcictutea.  In 
■It  kinds  of  poetic  compositiun,  1  set  great 
■tore  by  your  opinion ;  bnt  in  bcf  ■' — -' 
seises,  in  llie  poetry  of  tlic  heart,  n 
Catholic  ever  set  more  value  on  the 
10  Holy  Father,  than  I  do  on 


nary  state,  thought  proper 

miafortuue.    A  day  ot  two  after  I  recaved 

y  right  arm.    As  this  is  the 

id  myself  uuable  to  do  more 
j^enend  terms,  thank  you  (or 
this  additional  instance  of  joiir  patronage 
and  friendsliip.    As  W  the  faults  juu  de- 
tected ill  the  piece,  tiiey  are  tmlv  there ;  one 
theiu,  the  hit  at  the  laivyer  tmd  priest,  I 
>))  cut  out;  as  to  the  falling  off  in  tho 
aalroplie,  tor  the  reaaon  you  justly  adduce, 
cannot  easily  be  remedied.    Your  appro. 
:ion.  Sir,  bai  given  me  auch  udditioiial 
rits  to  persevere  in  this  apetaes  of  poetic 
cumposition,  that  I  am  already  revolving  tn 


m  the  iu 


;ory  couplets 


If  li 


bodied  form,  it  will  give  me  an  additional 
opporcuiuty  of  assuring  yon  how  much  I 
"  E.B. 


EUUland,  UDl. 


lovely  from  lif 
IS  death  BO  tri 
lith  laid  th'  a 


TO  A.  F.  TYTLER,  ESQ.  (116) 

EltisUaii,  Frlnuiy 

Sir — Nothing  leas  than  the  anforluni 

iccidetit  I  liBie  met  with  could  have  p 

Tented  my  grateful  aeknowledgiofuts 

that  an  essay  in  ibe  lalt  of  the  musea  . 
fiiely  new  to  him,  where  consequently  I 
bopea  and  feara  were  on  the  most  aiitio 
aluTH  for  his  siiccesa  in  the  aiiemni— 
hava  that  poem  so  much  applauded  by  o 


91. 


iiat  1  am  tbe  must  indolent  of  all 
cihgs,  and  when  I  matriculate  in 
Id's  Ortiee,  I  iuteud  cliat  ray  aiip. 
lall  be  two  sloths,  my  crest  a  alow- 
1  the  motto,  "Ddl  take  the  for- 
So  much  b)  way  of  apol<^y  tor 
ling  you  sooner  fur  your  kind  ex- 


ehow  or  oth 
public  papers. 


TO  THE  IlEV.  Q.  BAIRD.  (117) 
Edklmd.  1791. 
Bevkrend  Sik — Why  did  you,  my  dear 
Su,  write  to  me  iu  snch  a  hesitating  style. 


Ho,t,db,  Google 


TO  THE   EEV.  ASCII.  ALISON. 

on  tlie  busineB  of  poor  Brace 

tmuliai  ilb,  that 
Vou  sh  ■•  • 
pubUsli. 
leCta  hi 


aiiy  ills,  the 


tr  (it  only  esme  to  m;  liixnd  this 
Tnoment],  I  sliouid  have  directly  pitt  you 
out  of  euBpenac  on  the  subject.  I  only  ask, 
that  Mine  ptefetory  advertieeiueut  iu  tha 
book.  Ha  well  Ha  the  Buhacription  bills^  maj 

benefit  of  Bnice's  mother.    I  would  not  put 

malice  to  insinuate,  that  1  clubbed  a  share 
in  the  work  from  mercenar;  moticcs.    Nor 


if  we  can  place  an  olil  idea  in  a  i 
How  6r  1  We  succeeded  aa  to  thi! 
will  judge  from  what  follows  :— 


kind  letter,  with  your  kind  remem. 

t  your  godson,  came  safe.    This  last, 

isscarcely  ahflt  my  pride  can  bear. 

' f.  paitiaUty  apar^ 


l-poi  and  mea! 


tiths  old,  has  the 
grain  of  doctor^ 


I  am  tndy  happy  to  hear  that  the  "  littla 

that  the  "mother  plant"  ia  rather  recoieriug 
her  drooping  head.    Soon  and  well  may  hei 

thus  far  with  a  Rood  deal  of  difficulty. 
When  1  get  a  liltle  abler,  vou  shall  liear 
feriliec  from,  Marlam,  joura,  E.  B. 


TO  THE  REV.  ARCH.  ALISON. 
Etlishnd,  iieor  Dnmfriet, 


TO    MRS.   iiuNmp. 

EllkUtd,  F-A.  71A,  1 
When  I  tell  you.  Madam,  that  bi 


that  ic  is  too  good  a 
iiigly  ungrateful  sile 
better,  and  am  able 


I  and  hand  hate  beeu 
ie.    r.iii  now  gettiug 


that  tlie  most  poetic  genius  ia 


:  seldom  felt  to 

I  heard  that  so  amiable  aud  accomplished  a 
piece  of  God's  work  was  no  more,  I  have, 
as  yet,  ^ne  no  ferther  than  the  following 
fragment,  nf  which  please  let  me  have  yout 
cpiuion.    You  know  that  elegy  is  a  subject 

tlie  huainesB  ia  itot  to  be  expected :  *tiB  well 


Yon  . 


of  the 


hich  does  honour  to 
science  and  the  inlelleetnal  powers  of  man, 
and  1  have  not  even  so  much  as  acknow- 
ledj^  the  receipt  of  it  The  (act  is,  yon 
yourself  are  to  blame  for  it  Fktlered  as  1 
WHS  by  yonr  telling  me  that  you  wished  to 
have  my  opinion  of  the  work,  the  old 
spiritual  enemy  of  mankind,  who  kuows 
well  that  vanity  is  one  of  the  sins  that  most 
easily  Iwset  me,  put  it  into  my  head  to 
ponder  over  tile  p^ormaace  with  the  look- 
out oC  a  critic,  end  to  draw  up,  forsoutli,  a 

position,  of  which,  iu  feet,  until  I  read  the 
book,  I  did  not  even  know  the  first  prin- 
ciples.  1  Ofl'n,  Su',  that  at  first  gkucs 
several  of  your  propositiona  startled  me  as 
paradoiical.  1'hat  the  martial  clanKor  of  a 
trumpet  had  something  in  it  vastly  more 
grand,  heroic,  and  sublime,  than  the  twinffla 
twangle  of  a  Jew's  harp:  that  the  delicate 
fleiurc  of  a  rose-twig,  when  the  half-blown 
Sower  is  heavy  with  the  tears  of  the  dawn, 
was  miinitely  more  beautiful  and  elegant 
than  the  upright  stub  of  a  burdock;  and 
that  from  something  iunab 


Ho,t,db,  Google 


COEEESPOSDESCE   OF  BUEKS. 


cmtiona  nf  idena — theae  1  had  s 


ehort,  Sir,  except  Eudid's  Elements  of 
Geometrj, which  I  made  a  shift  ton] 
liy  my  faiher'a  fireside,  in  the  sintet 
ings  of  the  first  season  I  licld  the  plough,  I 
never  read  a  book  uhieh  gave  me  s  ' 
quantum  of  information,  and  added  ao 
to  my  stock  of  ideas,  as  your  "  Esaa, 
the  :^nciplei  of  Taate."    One  tiling 


Tinced  me  tliat  they  are  quite  corapntit 

I  enclose  yon  some  poelie  bagatell 

my  late  composition,    llie  one  in  ptj 

my  first  essay  in  the  way  of  telling  a 


TO  DR.  WOOEE. 

EUalaad.  Feb.  28lh,  1791. 
ot  Uow. 


o  Grose's 


of  S 


new  to  yon.    Captain 


land.    If  yoi 
not  be  alto^th 

Grose  did  me  me  lavour  to  aeua  mc  a 
doien  copies  of  tlie  proof  sheet,  of  nhich 
this  ia  one.  Slioulil  yon  hafe  lead  the  piece 
before,  still  this  wUI  ansiver  the  principal 
end  1  have  in  view — it  will  give  me  another 
opportunity  of  thanking  you  for  all  your 
goodness  to  the  rustic  bard ;  and  also  of 


Itoman  Catholics;    they  can  be  of 


to  be 

(rf  BvaiL     Whether,  aft 

rail. 

«ther 

the  on 

or  the  other  be  of  ai 

vreal 

dead,  is,  I  tear,  very  p 

oble- 

mUcal.  but 

I  am  snre   the,  ari 

ghly 

gratifj 

Bg   to 

the  hvmg:    and   as  a 

Dtthodoi  text 

I  forget  wliere  in  Scripture, 

eays. 

"whits 

ever  is  not  of  faith  is 

■0  Bay 

r,  wha 

soever  is  not  dethmeu 

Ed  to 

.triet 

andi< 

iaof 

lod,  the  River  of  all  good  tilings,  andougbl 
o  be  received  and  enjoyed  by  his  creatures 
vith  thankful   delight.    As  almost  ad  my 


The  ballad  on  Queen  Mary  was  begun 
while  I  nas  busy  with  Percy's  Keliqnes  of 
English  Poetry.  By  the  way,  how  much  is 
every  honest  heart,  which  has  a  tincture  of 
Caledonian  prejudice,  obliged  to  yc     ' 

fc"!  "" 


and  Tai 
Tnas  an  unequivocal  proof  of  your  li 
gallantry  of  soul,  giving  Targe  the  vict 
I  should  liave  l)eeu  mortilied  to  the  gro 


I  have  just  read  over  once  more  of  many 
mes.  your  Zchico.  I  marked  with  iny 
sncil,  as  I  went  along,  every  passage  that 
leased  me  particularly  above  the  rest ;  and 
■le  or  two,  which,  with  humble  deference,  I 
n  disposed  to  thitdi  unequal  tc 


uok.     I  hi 


loiight  to 
ic  at  least 


and  send  tliem  to  you.  Onginal  strokes 
that  Btron;:1y  depict  the  human  heart,  is 
your  and  PicMing's  province,  bejoiid  any 
other  novelist  I  have  ever  peruseil,  llichard- 
son  indeed  might,  perhaps,  be  excepted ;  but 
unliappdy,  bis  dramatis  persona  are  bdnga 
ilher  world;  and  however  they  may 
ate  the  inexperienced,  romanl^e  fancy 
toy  or  a  girl,  they  wiH  ever,  in  propor- 
is  we  have  made  human  nature  oui 
riper  years. 


my  priv 


mighty  ta 


loss  in  the  death  of  the  Earl  of  Glciuairn, 
the  patron  from  whom  all  my  fame  and 
fortune  took  its  rise.  Independent  of  my 
grateful  «Ctachuient  to  him,  which  wai 
indeed  so  strong  that  it  perraded  my  very 
soul,  and  was  eutwined  w'  ' ' 


m    devoutly  to    be  wished,    yet,    tl 
.  to  my  boys,  poor  little  fellows ! 


Ho,t,db,  Google 


TO   MR  CtrmUNGHAM. 


tlmt  peiiod,  fix  them  on 

peurfent  a  b»3ia  »s  pi 

many  wise  adages  which  have  been  treasured 

np  by  onr  Scottish  anceatora,  this  is  one  of 

the  beat— Be«er  6*  tie  head  o'  the 

mmatty,  than  the  ttdl  o'  the  getihy. 

But  I  am  got  ou  a  subject  wh^b,  bov 
interesting  to  me,  is  of  no  manuer  of 
Mquence  to  you ;  so  1  shall  si"e  you  a  i 
poem  on  the  other  page,  aiid  close  this 

tn  be,  yours,  &c. 


R.  B. 


Ellisland.  1791. 
Madam— Whether  it  is  that  tha  story  of 
oar  Mary  Qneen  of  Scots  has  ft  peculiar 
cHect  on  the  feeliucs  of  a  poet,  or  vhethec  I 
have  in  the  mclosed  ballad  succeeded  beyond 
my  usual  poetic  success,  I  know  not ;  but  it 
bas  pleasM  mo  beyond  any  elfort  of  my 
muse  for  a  good  while  pa<t ;  on  that  accoimt, 
I  enclose  it  puticulatly  Co  you.  It  is  true, 
the  purity  of  my  motives  may  he  auspecled, 
I  am  already  deeply  indebted  to  Mr.  Grahsni's 
goodness ;  and  wliat,  is  (*e  usual  vjaya  of 
men,  is  of  in&dtely  greater  imporlimce, 
Mr.  G.  em  do  lae  aenice  of  the  utmost 
importonce  in  time  to  came.  1  nas  born  a 
poor  d<^ ;  and,  however  I  may  occasionally 

I  must  live  and  die  poor :  buc  I  will  indulge 
llie  flattering  faith  tbat  my  poetry  will  con- 
siderably outlive  my  poverty ;  and  without 
any  fustian  aECectation  of  spirit.  1  can  pro- 
mise and  altirm,  Uiat  it  must  be  no  otdiuvy 
craving  of  Che  latter  shall  ever  make  me  do 
any  thing  injurious  to  the  honest  ixrae  of 
Ler.  Whatever  may  be  my  " 


ailu^gsa. 


btotiier,  hut  with  the  polite 
witb  tliaukfulueas,  and  ren 


TO  MR.  CUNNINGHAM. 

EUisland,  March  12lh,  1791. 

Tr  the  foregoing  piece  be  worth  yora 
strictures,  let  me  have  them.  Fur  my  own 
part,  a  thing  that  I  have  juat  composed 
always  ^peara  through  a  double  portmn  of 
that  parrial  medium  in  which  an  anther  wiQ 
erer  ™w  his  own  works.  I  believe  in 
general,  novelty  haa  something  in  it  that 
mebriatea  the  ftuicy,  and  not  unfreqnenUy 
dissipates  and  fumes  away  like  other  Litoii- 
cation,  and  leaves  the  poor  patient,  as  usual, 
with  an  aching  heart.  A  striking  instaiica 
of  this  might  be  adduced,  in  the  revolution 
of  many  a  hymeneal  honey-moon.  But  lesC 
id  prose,  aud  so  sacrilegiously 

-""■ '  -ly  parish  priest,  I 

liju  lu  my  own  way,  and 
ig  of  my  hite  compoaitiou. 


n  the  office 


perhaps 


will    appeal    . 
IS  well  as  the  furu 


to  be  the  object  of  princes  and  patriots,  it 
then,  yon  know,  becomes  the  lawftd  prey  of 
historians  and  poets. 


There'll 


hame," 


as  singing,  the  te^u's  f 
r  be  peace  till  Jami 


yon  like  the  air,  and  if  the  staniaa  hit 
fancy,  you  cannot  imagine,  my  dear 
friend,  how  much  yon  would  oblige  me,  if, 
■  be  charms  of  your  deligbtflil  voice,  you 
Id  give  my  honest  elTusion  to  "the 
locy  of  joys  tbat  are  past,"  to  the  lew 
ids  whom  you  indulge  in  that  pleasure. 


naled  tli 


II  I  b 


■approi 


"That  hour,  o'  night's  black  ar 

0,  good  night  to  you '  Son 
eep.aiiddclectable  your  dreams 
dw  do  you  like  this  thought  in 
ave  just  now  on  the  tapis  ? 

look  to  the  west  when  I  gac  Ic 
Tliat  happy  my  dreams  and  1 

Far,  br  in  the  west  is  he  I  hie  bi 


Ho,t,db,  Google 


COEEEaPOVDENCE  OF  Em?V. 


tnlwly  for  yofli  fcinfl 


little  n&ineaHke  ta  he  n 


TO  ME.  ALEXANDER  DAT.Z! 


EllUlasd,  March  191J,  1791. 

My  Dear  Sib — I  have  token  the  liberty 
to  fraiik  this  letter  to  you,  aa  it  aiicloses  nn 
idle  poem  of  mitis,  nbich  1  send  you;  and, 
God  knows,  yort  may  nerhapa  pay  dear 
enough  for  it,  if  you  re»d  it  tlu'ougli.  Not 
that  this  ia  my  own  opinion!  but  the 
author,  by  the  time  he  has  composed  and 
corrected  his  work,  has  quite  pored  an'ay 
ail  bia  powers  of  critical  diacrimination. 

1  can  easily  ^eaa,  {Tom  my  own  heart, 
what  you  have  Ie\l  on  a  late  mast  melan- 
choly event.  God  knows  what  I  have 
luffered  at  the  loss  of  tny  hett  friend,  luy 
first  and  deiirest  patron  and  heiiefartor ;  the 
num  to  whom  !  owe  i^l  thi 


ihig  for  him,  uid  with 
■  •       ■  ■  le  will, 


iiceedinsly  oWl^d    to    you, 
and  the 


0  pay  a 


O  MRS.  DUNLOP. 
Eilutaad.AprilUlh.l 


I  last,  Mrs.  Bun 
1  Sue  boy ;  rather 

Indeed,  I  la 


chefd-aavre  in 
IIIBI  speaea  or  maiiiiniriiirc,  as  1  louk  OH 
'■'i'Bmo'Shanler"to  be  ray  atandarfl  per. 
fiirinance  in  the  poelioel  line.      Tis  true, 

of  ro»ui»h  watery,  that  might  perhapa  bo 
as  welt  spared ;  but  then  they  also  allow,  in 
my  opinitm,  a  force  of  geoins,  and  a  finish- 
ing polish,  that  I  despair  of  ever  racelliiig. 
ilra,  Bnras  ia  getting  stout  again,  and  laid 
as  histily  about  her  to-day  at  breakfest,  as 
a  reaper  from  the  coni.Tidge.    That  ia  the 

sprightly  damsels,  that  are  bred  among  the 
fui}  rad  Meatier.  (ViO)  We  cuinot  hai>e 
for  that  highly  polished  mind,  that  charming 
delicacy  of  «o 


f^ninle 


'orld  ii 


Indeed,  to  le 

noble  family,  how  tlie  poor  mothi 
two  nisters  support  their  loas.  i  naa  a 
packet  of  poetic  bagatelles  ready  to  send  to 
Iwiy  Betty,  wlien  I  saw  the  fatal  Cidnl;;a 
in  tlie  newapij:er.  I  aee,  by  the  same 
channel,  tliaE  the  honoured  regains  of  my 
noble  patron  are  dc^^ned  to  be  brought 
to  the  femily  burial-place.  Dare  1  trouble 
you  to  let  me  know  privately  before  the  day 
'  '  '       mi,  that  I  may  cross  the  country. 


of  life,  and  which  ia  certainly  by  far  the 
most  bewitching  charm  in  the  ^mous  cestus 
of  Venua.  It  is  indeed  such  aa  inestiiuahle 
treasure,  that  where  it  can  be  had  in  ita 
native  heavenly  purity,  uuatained  by  aoine 
one  or  other  of  tlie  many  shades  of  affect- 
tiou,  end  unalloyed  by  same  one  or  other  of 
the  many  gpeeies  of  caprice,  I  declare  l^ 


leaply  piircbaaed 


k  of  life  V  ■ 


imflected  modeaty  and  unauUied 
rurity ;  nature's  mother-wit,  atid  the  rudi- 
oents  of  taate ;  a  aimpliraty  of  soul,  unaus- 
liciona  of,  because  unaequunted  with,  the 
rooked  ways  of  a  sellish,  interested,  diain- 
;ennoua  world ;  and  the  dearest  charm  of  all 
be  rBat,a  yieliiing  sweetness  of  disposition, 
lud  a  generous  warmth  of  heart,  gniKful 
or  love  on  our  port,  and  ardently  glowing 
vith  a  more  than  equal  tetnru ;  these,  with 
1  healthy  frame,  a  sound  vijwrous  constito- 
ion,  which  your  higher  ranks  can  scarcely 


Thisi 


the  greatest  effort  my  broken  arm 
lade.  Do  let  me  hear,  by  first  post, 
P^^■(  M^^i^r  (121)   eoraea  on 


Hosted  by  Google 


TO  THE  EAHL  OF  BTJCHAN, 
1.  May  illmiglity  gooi 


375 


lO  MK.  CUNNINGHAM. 

Jme  nth,  1791. 
Let  me  interest  you,  my  dent  Cunning. 


'  of  ihe  genilemau  ' 


!.  Clsikc 


hii  foiliugs ;  >o3  curse  ou  that  pririlegeil 
plain-dealing  of  ftiemlship,  whieh,  iu  the 
hour  cf  my  calamity,  omnot  reocb  forth  tha 
helping  hMiil,  without,  nt  the  same  tim^ 
painting  ouC  those  fnilirigs,  and  appoctiouing 
them  their  share  in  procnriiig  my  present 
distress.  My  friends,  for  such  the  world 
calls  ye,  and  such  ye  think  yourselves  to  be, 
pass  hy  my  Tirtties  it  you  please,  hut  do, 
fllso,  spare  my  fijiliea— the  first  vill  witness 
in  my  breast  for  themselres,  and  the  hut 
willgiTepaloenough  to  theinsenuonsmind 


■    pers 
lalsof 


MoffiiC,  principal  schooli 

at  present  suiferinj-  severely  uii Jer 

cntion  of  one  or  two  pou^fal  iiidi 

hb  employers.     He  is  accused  of  narsnness 

to  hoys  that  were  placed  under  his  aire. 

Gud  help  the  t«acheF,  if  a  mau  of  seoaibiiity 

and  genius,  and  such  is  my  friend  Clarke, 

when  a  booby  father  presents  him  with  his 

booby  sou,  and  inusts  on  lighting  up  the 

rays  of   science  i] 


ipriety  ai 
my  power 


IS  and  iuBCcesiible  bj 
other  way  than  a  positive  fracture  w 
cudgel— a  fellow,  whom,  in  fiiot,  it  snvou 
impii^Ly  to  attempt  making  a  scholar  i 


less  from  the 

tude  must  be 

thou.  Fortuni , , 

from  myself,  and  of  myself, 

sequence  of  those  errors !     i  qo  hoi  want  to 

be  independent  tiiat  I  may  sin,  hut  t  want  to 

be  indcpeudcnt  in  my  sinning. 

To  return  iu  this  tamblir^  letter  to  tlie 
subject  I  set  out  with,  let  me  recommend  my 
friend,  Mr.  Clarke,  to  your  acquaii'Eance  and 


I  long  mud 


«f™ 


11  merit  the  oihcr. 
you.    Adieu, 


manwliora  I  partiouliirly  res 
Ton  know  some  good  tbllow 

E^^trucy  and  council,  but 
ve  much  to  sur  with  a 


srlyK 


B  hLstoriao  of  Charl 
iron^h  tha  medium  of  his 
i,  tiiut  Mr.  Clarke  is  a 
gentleman  who  will  not  disgrace  even  his 
)>BIrDuage.  I  know  tlie  merits  of  the  cause 
thoroughly,  mid  say  it,  that  my  friend  is 
fiilling  a  sacriSce  to  prcjiuliccd  igiiocaoce. 

God  help  the  children  of  dependence! 
Hated  and  persecuted  by  their  enemies,  and 
too  often,  alas !  almost  uueKceptiofuilily,  re. 
eeived  by  tlieir  friends  with  disrespect  and 
reproach,  under  the  thin  disguise  of  cold 
dvility  aud  humiUating  advice.  Oh  I  to  be 
a  sturdy  savage  stalking  in  the  pride  of  his 
independence,  amid  tlie  solitary  wilds  of  his 
deserts,  rather  than  in  civilized  life  lielplesaly 
to  tremble  tor  a  subsistence,  precahous  as 
liiB  caprice  of  a  fellow^Teature  1      Every 


(122)   I 


TO  THE  EARL  OF  BUCHAN. 

Ellislaud.  1791. 

Mt    Lord— langnage  sinks  under  the 

ardour  of  uiy  feelings,  when  1  wou'd  tliank 

your  lordship  fiir  Ilu  honour  you  have  done 

of  Thomson.   In  my  Hrst 


the  honour  to  writs  me,  I  overlooked  e' 
ihstacle,  and  determined  to 
vill  not  be  iu  my  power. 


;  but  I  feu 


(hole  eomse  of  the  Tweed,  and  fondly 
would  1  take  the  sims  delightful  journey 
down  the  windings  of  that  delightful  stream. 
Your  lordship  hints  at  an  ode  for  the 
occasion;  hut  who  would  writeafter  Collins? 
I  read  ov»  his  verses  to  the  memory  of 
Thomson,  and  despaired.  I  got  indeed  to  the 
leu^h  of  three  or  tour  stanzas,  in  the  way 
of  address  to  the  shade  of  the  bard,  on 
crowning  his  bust.  I  shall  trouble  your 
lordship  with  the  subjoined  copy  of  them, 
which,  I  am  aftmd,  will  he  but  too  con, 
vlncing  a  proof  how  miequid  I  am  to  tha 
task,    However,  it  affords  me  an  opportunity 


Hoaoin,  Google 


CORRESPONDENCE  OP  BURNS. 


vour  lordship,  a 

d  declaring  ,  atlapiimpQt.     It  mnat  be  a  longer  period 

siui   gMtefullj 

have    tlia    thin  the  longHl  life  "in  the  »orld'»  bsld 

fOT^C  >Q  dear  a  friend  as  Mr.  Sloan.    I  sni 

prodigal  eaoiigh  »t  timea,  but  I  mill  not  part 

TO  LADY  E.  CUNNINGHAM,  (133) 
Mt  Linv — I  would,  19  usual,  have 
waaed  myself  of  the  privilege  yourgooduess 
has  sllowed  me,  of  Bending  jon  onjthiiig  I 
compoae  in  m;  poetical  way ;  but,  as  I  have 
resolved,  lO  soon  as  the  shock  of  m;  irre- 
parable  loss  itould  allow  me,  io  pay  a 
tribute  to  my  kle  faeucfuctor.  I  deterniiced 
to  make  tliaC  the  licsC  piece  I  should  do 
myielf  the  honour  of  aeudiuj  you.  Had 
ihe  ving  of  my  fancy  been  equal  to  the 
•idom  o(  my  heart,  the  eoclosed  had  bten 
much  more  worthy  your  perusal :  as  it  is, 
I  beg  leave  to  ky  it  at  your  led}'ahip's 
feet  (124)  As  all  the  world  knows  my 
obligations  to  the  hilfl  Earl  of  Glencaim ;  I 
woiM  wish  to  shoir,  as  op^ly,  that  my  heart 
glows,  and  shall  ever  glow,  with  the  moat 
jnateful  sense  and  reuiembrnuce  of  his  lord- 
sh^'s  goodness,  llie  tables  I  did  myself 
the  hououT  to  wear  to  liis  lordship^s 
memory,  were  not  the  "  mockery  of  woe." 
Nor  sliull  my  gratitude  perish  with  me  I  If, 
^lildreJi,  I  shall  bare  a  sou  thai 


a  treasure  as  that. 
I  can  easily  enter  into  the  embarres  of 

ivourile  quotation  &am  Young : — 

" On  reason  build  BesOlteI 

That  column  of  true  majesty  in  man." 
And  that  other  liivaBrile  one  from  Thorn. 
in'a  Alfred  :— 
"What  proves  the  hero  tnily  okeat. 
Is,  oeict,  never  to  despair." 
Or,  shall  I  quote  you  an  author  of  your 


Yon  may  do  miracles — by  peksevbhikg." 

I  have  nothing  ueir  to  tell  you.    The  teyr 

friends  we  have  are  gmng  on  in  the  old  way. 

I  sold  my  crop  on  this  day  se'nnight,  ai^d 

average,  ahovs  valna.  But  such  a  scene  of 
druHkeuuBss  was  hardly  ever  seen  in  tlua 
comilry.  After  Cite  roup  was  over,  abonC 
thirty  people  engaged  in  a  battle,  every  man 
for  hia  own  hand,  and  fought  it  out  tor 
three' -    *' " ..-..- 


has  a  lu^,  he  slu>ll  hand  it  ilown  to  his 

in  the  house.  No  fighting,  indeed,  but  folks 

child  as  a  family  honour,  and  a  family  debt. 

lymg  drunk  on  tlie    floor,  and   deCDntiiig, 

that  my  dearest  existence  I  owe  to  the 

until  both  my  dogs  got  so  dmut  hy  atteud- 

luible  house  of  Glencaim  1 

iug  them,  tlint  tliey  could  not  stand.    You 

1  was  about  to  say,  my  I^y,  that  if  yon 

will  easily  giieaa  how  I  enjojed  tlie  scene,  as 

think  the  poem  may  venture  to  see  the 

1  was  uu  farther  off  tbaii  you  used  to  see 

light,  I  «ould,  in  some  way  or  other,  give  it 

to  U»  world.                                      KB. 

Mt3,  B,  and  family  have  been  in  Ayrshiro 

these  many  week,. 

Fareirell!  and  God  bless  you.  my  dear 
friend  I                                                E.  iJ 

KO.  CCXXVI. 

TO  MR.  THOMAS  SLOAN. 

Eimc«d,  Sept.  w,  i;di. 

NO,  CCXVII. 

Mv  Dear  Sloan— SuspeuBe  is  worse 

TO  COLONEL  FULI,ARTON, 

OF^ULLARTON,(12o) 

hurry  to  lell  you  that  I  just  now  learn  tlmt 
Mr.  Ballantme  does  not  chose  to  interfere 

Eimaxd,  CM.  3rd.  1701. 

Sib— I  have  just  this  nunute  got  the 

it,  hut  cannot  help  it. 

frauK  and  next  minute  must  send  it  to  pos^ 

You  bknie  me  for  not  writing  you  sooner. 

else  I  purposed  to  liave  sent  you  two  or 

but  you  will  please  to  recollect    that  you 

three  other  bagatelles  that  mi^ht  have  amused 

omitted  one  little  necessary  piece  of  infor- 

a  vacant  hour,  about  as  well  oa  "  Sis  excel- 

Diation— your  address. 

lent  new  Songs,"  or  the  "Aberdeen  prognos- 

However, you  know  equally  weU  my  hur- 

tications  for  the  year  to  eome."  (I3B)    I  shall 

lied  liJb,  indtJeut  temper,  imd  atreugth  of 

probahly  trouble  you  soon   nith  auotbei 

Ho,t,db,  Google 


TO  MRS.  DUNLOP. 


2,n 


pocket,  about  tlie  gloomy  month  ofNovem- 
pct,  when  the  people  of  England  hang  and 
drown   theniBelvea— aiijthing,  generaliy,   ia 
beKCT  than  one's  own  thoughts. 
Pond  as  I  may  he  of  oiy  own  ptodoclions, 

eend  you  tliem,  I  am  ambicioiu,  coietonsly 
anihitions,  of  being  known  la  a  gentleman 
whom  I  am  proud  to  call  my  countryman 
(127);  HgeutlemaiiiWho  waaaforeignamhas- 

and  that  with  an  eclat  unknown  to  the  usual 
uinionB  otacDurt — mea  wlio,  with  alt  the 
adventitious  adsanta;,'es  of  prineelj  connei^ 
tioMS,  and  princely  fortunes,  mast  jet,  like 
the  caterpillar,  isliour  a  whole  lifetime  before 
lliey  reach  the  wisbed-for  height,  there  to 
roost  a  stupid  chrysalis,  and  doae  out  the 
remauiing  glimmering  csisteuce  cf  old  age. 

If  tlie  gpntleui&n  that  accon^onied  you 
when  you  did  me  the  honour  of  calling  on 
me,  19  with  you,  1  beg  to  be  respectfully 
rumembered  to  hiia.    I  have  the  honour  to 


horrent  crest,  and  rouses  all  b»  snakea: 
beneath  Che  deadly  fixed  eye  and  leaden  hand 
ot  Indolence,  tbrar  wildrat  ire  is  cliarmed 
into  the  torpor  of  the  hat,  slumbenng  out 
the  ngonrs  of  winter  in  the  chink  of  a  ruined 
vail.  Nothing  icM,  Madam,  could  bate 
made  me  to  long  neglect  your  obliging  com- 
mands. Indeed,  1  bad  one  apoio^ — tlie 
hLLgitelle  was  not  worth  presenting.  Besides, 
BO  strongly  am  I  interested  in  IMisa  Uaviea's 

life,  amid  its  chances  aniJ  changes,  that  to 
make  lier  the  subject  of  a  silly  ballad  is 
downright  mockery  of  these  ardent  fbelinga ,' 
'tis  like  an  impertinent  jeat  to  a  dyitig  friend. 
Graiious    Heaven  I   why  this    disparity 

ia  the  most  j;eueioii9  wiah  Co  make  others 
blest,  impotent  and  ineffectual,  as  the  idle 
bteeze  that  crosses  the  pathless  deaerCf    lu 


y  walks  ot  life  I  have  met  with  a  few  p&v 
e  to  whom  how  gladly  would  I  have  said. 
Go  I  be  happy  I  I  know  that  yout  hearts 
ive  been  wounded  by  the  scorn  of  the 
■oud,  whom  accident  has  placed  above  yoB 
-  s.still,  in  whose  hands  are  perlHps 


and  look  justly  down  i 

soul.    Mate  the  worthless  tremble  under 

your  indignation,  and  [he  fooUsh  sink  before 

your  coatempC;    and  lai^ly  impart  that 

bappincas  to  others,  which,  I  am  certain, 

wdl  give  yourselves  so  maiii  pleasure  to 

heatnw." 

Why,  dear  Madam,  must  I  waka  from  this 
delightful  m'erie,  and  find  it  all  a  dream' 


Why,  aL.._  ._,  „ , 

I  find  myself  poor  and  powerless,  incapable 
of  wiping  one  tear  from  tlie  eyeof  Rty,  or 
of  adding  one  comfort  Co  the  friend  I  love  I 
Out  upon  the  world  I  say  I,  tliat  its  affairs 
are  administered  so  ill!  They  talk  of 
reform;  good  Heavenl  what  areform  would 
I  mate  ainons  the  ions,  and  even  the  dau^h- 
ters  of  men  I     Doon,  immediUely  should 

Eci  fools  from  the  high  places  where  mis- 
egotten  chance  has  perked  them  up,  and 
throngh  life  should  Cliey  skulk,  ever  haunted 

fur  a    much    mora    furmideble    t*         " 


knave 


with 


fiut  Che  hand  that  could  give,  I  would 
liberally  fill :  and  1  would  pour  delight  on 
Clie  hoai  t  that  could  kirtdiy  furgiie,  and  geue- 

Still,  the  inegnalities  of  life  are.  amons 
men,  eomparaljvely  tolerable ;  but  ttiere  is 
a  delicacy,  a  Cenderueas,  accompanying 
every  view  in  which  we  con  place  lovely 
woman,  that  are  grated  and  shocked  aC  tlw 
rude,  cajiricious  distiuctioDi  of  Fortune. 
Woman  is  the  blDod-royal  of  Ufe ;  let  there 
be  sbght  degrees  of  precedency  among  tliem 
— but  kt  them  ha  ali.  sacred.    WhethH 

not  accouutnble;    it  is  an  original  corapo- 


TO  MRS.  DUNLOP. 
EUisland,  Decemtfr  17lS,  1791 
ManT  thanks  to  you.  Madam,  for  yout 
good  news  reapecUug  the  little  fiowereC  and 


Hoifdb,  Google 


COERESPONDKNCE  OF  BUBHS. 

II  guess  sDmethias  ot 


and  tbeo  Mra.  H 
darling  the  repreae 
ia  eTery  thii^  but 


itfitive  of  his  lute  pueiit, 
liie  abcid^d  existeiice. 
.  .  .  jhed  the  following  song, 
idy.tbe  deKenduDt  of  Wallace, 


[Ilerejbttowi  ike  "  Smg  of  DeoW."] 
Tbe  drcnm'lsiice  that  gave  rise  to  the 
lljre"oiiig  lerses,  waa — lookiog  over  with  a 
musical  &ieud,  M'Donald'g  collecljon  of 
Higliliuid  aira.  I  was  struck  with  one,  an 
Isle  of  Skye  tnne,  entitled  "(Jran  un  Ao^," 
or  the  "  Song  of  Deatli,"  to  tbe  measure  of 
which  I  hare  adapted  my  stanzas.    I  have. 


whose  broad  impudent  bee  now 
old  mother  euth  all  night,  a 
Bhrunk  into  a  mildest  crescent,jui 
fortli  at  dewy  dawn,  1  shall  And ! 
triuscribe  to  you.     A  Mm  Je 


TO  MR.  AIM' SUE, 

Eltkland,  1791. 


My 


liorrore  of  penitence,  regret,  teinorse,  head- 
ache, nausea,  wid  all  the  rest  of  the  d  -■  ■■ 
hounds  of  hcit,  that  beaet  a  poor  wretch  who 
has  been  guilty  of  the  sin  of  iltunkeuness — 
,n  jou  speak  peace  to  a  troubled  soul  ? 


iliaeralle  -pi 


elowly  counting  every  tick  of  the  clock,  as  it 
ilowly,  alowlj',  numbers    over    these    lazy 

ranked  up  before  me,  every  one  fallowing 
bis  nKghbout,  Bud  every  one  with  a  burdeu 

devot^  bead — and  there  is  none  to  pity 
me.    My  wife  scolds  me,  my  husineas  tor- 


uckily  thought  of  readlt^ 
*  jours,  that  lay  by  me, 
i  I  felt  someCliing,  for 
*s  I  opened  my  e;es,  of 

. Well — J  begin  to 

sinee  i  began  to  write  to 
!  you,  and  what  are  you 
goea  hiw?  A-propos,  for 
e,  do  not  address  to  me 
tiat  is  an  honour  t  cannot 
m>  on  the  list,  as  we  call  it, 
,  and  will  be  called  out,  by 


TO  . 

EUMmd,  1791. 
Thou  eunuch  of  language;  thou  Eiiglish- 
an,  wlio  never  waa  south  the  'J'aeed ;  thou 
tvile  echo  of  fosbioiiahle  hacliiuiams ;  thou 
a  nostmma  of  empirical 
raarriai^maker  betweeu 
nts,  on  the  Gretna  Green 


JS, 


ofca.       , 
socks  of  bomt 

xmg  tbe  rivets  of  absurdity;  thou 
r,  «ubruuig  thy  hands  in  tlie  bowela 
:thograpby;  thou  arch-heritic  in  pro- 
iaUon;  thou  pilchpipe  of  affected 
emphasis ;    thon   eatpeuter,  mortimg  the 

squeakiug  disBOimoce  of  cndenne;  thou  jump 

-'--'—-   '■     -  lion  Eerald  to  silly  ety- 

itipode  of  gnuuraat ;  thon 

instruction;  thou  brood  of 


10  Tuwe 


founded;  tliou  siape^allo 

tense )  thon  murderous  accoucheur  of  inbnt 
learnuig;  tbou  inik  fatsiii,  misleading  the 
steps  of  benighted  ignorance ;  thou  pickle- 
herring  in  the  puppet-show  of  nousmse; 
thou  faithful  reoordii  of  barbarous  idiom; 
Uiuu  persecutor  of  ayllabicatton;  thou  baleful 


Hoifdb,  Google 


TO  MR.  Wll.  NICOL. 


IK— I 


ANCIS  GR03E,  Esa.  F.SA,  (129) 
Dmiifriea,  1792. 
ituoa^  nil  QUI  ScoU  literali 
idh  Frofesaor  DuguLd 


Stewnrt,  who  filli  the  motdphil. 

in  the  Unisersity  of  Ediobia^h.      To  say 

tliAt  he  is  H  man  of  the  first  parts,  onJ^  wUat 

tieniaa  of  your  genernl  ocquuimlnuce,  aod 
wlio  so  much  enjoys  the  luinry  of  nneivcum- 
hered  freedom  aiid  nndisturbed  priracy,  is 
not,  perlups,  recamiDeiidation  enoi^i  i  but 
when  I  iufonu  you  thai  Mr.  Stewart'a  prin- 
cipal characleriitic  is  your  favourite  feaUre 
—Win!  sterling  iudapeudeiice  of  mind,  which, 
though  every  man's  nglit,  so  few  men  tiate 
the  courage  to  cblm,  and  fe<xer  still  the 
ma^ianiuiity  to  support!  when  I  tell  you, 
that  uuseduced  h;  splendour,  and  nndis- 
gusleJ  by  wrelcliedness,  lie  appreciates  the 
nierJlA  of  the  various  actors  in  the  great 
draiua  of  life,  merely  as  they  perfiirm  their 

heart,  aud  I  comply  niih  his  earnest  request 
in  letting  you  know  that  he  wishes  above  all 
things  to  meet  with  you.  His  honse,  Calriue, 
is  within  less  than  a  mite  of  Sorn  Castle, 
whUrh  you  propoied  viaituig;  or  if  you 


ised,  he  V 


nld,  with 


the  greateit  pleasure,  meet  you  any  where 
in  the  neighbourhood.  1  write  to  Ayrshire 
to  infbrm  Mr.  Stewart  that  I  have  acquitted 
myself  of  my  promise.  Should  yoiff  time 
and  spirits  pernnt  your  meetiug  with  Mr. 
Siewart,  'tis  wellj  if  not,  I  hope  yi 


tiie  herd  of  animals  called  young  gentlemen. 
To  you— who  despise  and  detest  tlie  gtoup- 

painter  that  seems  industrious  to  phicB 
staring  fools  ajid  unprincipled  knaves  in  the 
foreground  of  bis  picture,  while  men  of 
sense  and  honesty  are  too  often  thrown  in 
the  dimmest  shades.    Mrs.  Ridrlel  (130), 


acquaintauce.  I'he  lady,  too,  is  a  votary  of 
the  muses ;  and  as  I  think  myself  somewhat 
of  a  judge  in  my  own  trade,  I  assure  yon 

elegant,  are  mnch  beyond  the  common  run 
of  the  ladif^oett&ses  of  tlie  day.  She  is  a 
great  adm'irer  of  your  book  (iSl);  and 
hearing  me  say  that  I  was  acquainted  with 
you,  she  begged  to  be  knomi  to  you,  as  she 


;o  pay 


a  tni  vi 


Caledoniaa  capital.  1  Cold  her  that  her  beat 
way  was,  to  desire  her  neu  relatiou,  and 
your  intimate  Mend,  Craigdarroch,  to  have 

]est  you  might  think  of  a  lively  West  Indian 
f>irl  of  ^ghteen,  as  girla  of  ragbleeu  too  often 
deaerve  to  be  thou^-ht  ot^  I  should  take  cue 
to  remove  that  pr^ndice.  To  be  impattial, 
however,  in  appreciating  the  huJy's  merits, 
she  has  one  unlucky  tailing — a  foiling  which 
you  will  eiaily  discover,  as  she  seems  rather 
pleased  with  indulging  in  it — and  a  fading 
that  you  will  easily  pardon,  as  it  ia  a  sin 
which  very  miKh  besets  yourself- where  she 
dislikes,  or  despises,  she  is  apt  to  make  no 


forgive  this  hben^,  and  I'have,  at  least,  an 

prayers,  that  JTobtunb  may 

never  throw 

opportunity  of  assuring  you  with  what  truth 

your    BUBais'tKNCi!  to    the 

mercy    of   ■ 

aud  respect  I  am.  Sir,  your  great  admirer. 

TEK    OB  the 

and  va-y  limnble  ^ermi.t,                  E.  B. 

iudgmeut  of  a  fool;   but  that 

upnghl and 

erect,  yon  may  walk  to  an 

oneat  grave. 

where  men  of  letters  shdl  say. 

"Here  lies  a 

man  wlin  did  honour  to  science 

"and  men  of 

NO,   CCXXMir. 

worth  stiHil  soy,  "  Here  ties  a 

man  who  did 

TO  MR.  WILLIA)!  SJIEIilE, 

honour  to  human  nature." 

R.B. 

fRlBTE tt. 

— — — 

Dumfiia,  Jonawj,  SZi-d,  1792. 

NO     CCXltXIV 

I  BIT  down,  my  dear  Sir,  to  inltodnce  a 

TO  ME.  WM.  NIC 

OL. 

Jom\g  tady  to  you.  and  a  lady  in  the  first 
tanks  of  fasliion.  too.      What  a  task!    to 

Fitma<y 

m.  1793. 

you-who  care  no   more  ior  the  herd  oi 

Oh,  thou  wisest  among  the  wise,  meridian 

auimalg  called  young  ladies,  than  you  do  for 

blaie  of  prudence,  full  moou 

of  diacrcliou. 

Ho,t,db,  Google 


CORRESPONDENCE  OP  BURNS. 


Rod  chief  of  many  coansellois !  {1^^)    ^^' 
infinitely  is  thy  puddle-beaded,  rattle-htaded, 
vtODg-hettded,  roimd-heuded  slave  indebted 
to  Iby  super-eminent  goudness,  that, 
the  luniinons  path  of  thy  own  tiglit-liaed 

reclituda,  thou  tuakeaC  heaiguly  doivn 

erring  wretch,  of  whom  tiie  z^-sag  wi 
inga  dety  oM  tlie  ponen  of  cnlculstion, 
the  simple  cupuLation  of  ni^ttt,  up  t 


1  may  be  leas  uuwotthy  of  tlie  fnce  and 


r  that  fatb 


ofpr 


,  leofMly,  andmi^- 
DBt  among  the  sages,  tlie  wise  tnd  witty 
WilUeNieol!    Auieu!  AmenI  Tea.  sobe  it! 

For  mo  I  T  am  a  beast,  »  teptile,  and  taow 
nothing  1  Fronj  the  f  ave  of  my  ignorance, 
amid  tlie  togs  of  my  dnlneBB,  and  pestilen- 
tial fumes  of  my  pollticnl  liereaiea,  I  look  up 
to  thee,  aa  doth  a  toad  throngh  the  iron- 
barred  lucerne  of  a  peatiferous  dungeon,  to 
the  cloudless  glory  of  a  Bumaiet  sun  1 
Sorely  sighing  in  bitterness  of  aoul,  1  say, 
when  shall  my  name  be  the  quotaldon  of  the 
wise,  and  iiiy  counteuanee  be  the  deUght  of 
the  godly,  like  the  illustrious  lord  of  Lnggau's 
many  kills?  (133)  Aa  for  him  his  works 
are  perfect — zicTcr  dni  the  pen  of  calumny 
blue  the  fair  page  o(  his  leputatiau,  nor  the 
holt  of  hatred  fly  at  his  duelbng 

Thou  mirrcr  of  purty  wli«n  shnll  the 
elline  lamp  of  my  ghmmerous  understanding, 

rged  m  j1  appetites  and  gross 
atmn  of  thy 


I   for   t 


d  thy  h 


e  pleas 


e  of  thy 

heaven  hoUnd   desires 

rs  of  impunty  atam  the 

hy  cerulean  iDi^;mation. 

were  the  tenor  of  my  life, 

of  my  conversation  I — 

d  fejr  for  my  strength, 

)  ce   Q  my  weakness  I    Then, 

id  rise  up,  and  none  to 

lay  ihy  pity  and   thy 

se    for,  ob  thou  lamp  of 

E  morality  1  thy  devoted 

KB. 


TO  FRANCIS  GROSE,  Eso,  F.S.A, 
JIumfiies,  1793. 


short,  oil  such 


y  nijfhl,  amid   whistluig 
.  night  as  the  devil  would 


^mer's  servant,  was  plodding  and  phishin^ 
homeward  with  his  plough-irons  on  his 
shoulder,  having  been  gettmg  some  repairs 
on  them  at  a  neighbouring  smithy,  flia 
way  lay  by  the  kirk  of  Allows 


n  the  at 


1  place  so  WI 


13  look-ou 


<  be  a  favourite 
.  the  devil's  friends 
and  emissaries,  he  had  been  struck  aghaat, 
by  discovering  through  the  horrors  of  tha 
storm  and  stormy  night,  a  light,  which  on 
bia  nearer  approach  plainly  showed  itself  to 
proceed  from  the  haunted  edifice.  Whether 
be  bad  been  fortiHed  from  above,  on  his 
deioaC  anpplicitiou,  as  is  customary  with 
people  when  they  suspect  the  immediate 
presence  ot  Satan,  or  whether,  according  to 
another  custom,  he  hid  got  courageously 
dmuk  at  tlie  smithy,  1  will  not  pretend  to 
wus,  that  he  ventured 
_ ,  to  tlio  very  kirk.  As 
luck  would  have  it,  bia  temerity  cuine  aS 

5lio  members  of  the  infernal  junto  were 


all  01 


Idren,  limbs  of  executed  mslefadors,  ^c, 
the  business  of  the  night.  It  was,  in 
a  penny,  m  for  a  pound,  with  the  honest 
ughman :  so  without  ceremony  he  nn- 
ited  the  caldron  ftom  o3  the  flre,  and, 
pouring  out  the  damnable  uigredieuts, 
'  '  it  on  his  head,  and  carried  it  fairly 
lere  it  remained  long  in  the  faoiily, 
evidence  of  the  truth  of  tlie  atory. 
er  story,  which  I  can  prove  to  ba 

"i  of  Ayr,  I 
iiiaequently 
rery  gate  of  Alloway 
,  in  oroer  lo  cross  the  river  l>ooii 
lid  bridge,  which  is  about  tu'o  or 
idted  yatii  fmther  on  than  the  said 
gate,  had  been  detained  by  his  buMness,  till 
hy  the  ticae  he  reached  ^^loway  it  ims  Cbu 
wiiacd  hour,  between  night  and  morning. 


Oo  a  market  day  m  tl 
iraicr    from    Carrick,    . 


Hosted  by  Google 


TO   ME,   J.   CLAEKE. 


ti  tli> 


ThftHgh  he  "as  Mcrified  witli  a 
Btteanimg  from  th«  kiik,  yet.  na  it  is 
kuonu  fict,  that  to  turn  bask  on 
occH3bn«  13  runi^ing  by  &r  the  greats 
of  inisohief,  he  pradentty  advanced  ' 
load.  WbeD  he  had  Teathed  the  gate  of 
the  kirk-yntd,  he  was  surprised  aud  -  '- 
tamed,  through  the  ribs  and  arches 
old  Ciatbie  nindow,  nhich  atill  laces  the 
liij^bway,  to  see  a  d^ice  of  witches  merrily 
fouling  i^  rouud  tiieir  old  sooty  iilack^iuFd 
maater,  wlio  was  keepui);  them  all  alive  with 
the  power  of  his  bagpipe.  The  fumer, 
stopping  his  horse  to  abserre  them  a  Utti^ 
could  plaiuly  deacry  tlie  faces  of  many  old 
women  of  hia  acqnuntaiice  and  ncigbboui- 
hood.  How  the  geaileioan  was  dreased, 
tradi^n  does  not  say,  but  that  the  ladies 
were  all  in  their  smocks :  and  oue,  of  them 
happeain^  uiiliiekily  to  have  a  smock  which 

piirpoae  of  tbat  piece  of  dress,  our  tkrmer 

huuself,  instantly  spurred  his  hurse  ti 
top  of  his  spei  ■  ■ 
universally  kii 
po»er  can  pnrsiie  yoa  beyond  the  middle  of 
Lucky  it  was  fur  the 
the  riier  Daou  was  so 

n.'ached  the  middle  of  the  arch  of  the 
bridge,  and,  CDaset|iieatly,  the  middle  of  llie 
stream,  the  pursnnis,  Teiigeful  hags,  were 
so  close  at  his  heels,  thib  oue  of  thcin 
atrtiially  sprang  to  seise  him ;  but  it  was  too 

but  the  horse's  tail,  which  immediately  guie 
way  at  her  infernal  grip,  as  if  blasted  by  a 
stroke  of  lightning ;  but  the  farmer  vaa 
beyond  her  reack  However,  the  unsightly, 
tail-less  condition  of  the  vi^orons  steed, 
waa,  to  the  last  honr  of  the  noble  crcatnre'B 
life,  an  awfal  warning  to  the  Carrick  Ihrmers 
not  to  stay  too  late  iu  Ayr  markets. 

Tlie  last  teiatioa  I  shall  give,  thonnk 
ei/aalli/  true,  is  am  so  well  ideniiSed  as  the 
two  tomer,  with  regard  to  the  scene ;  but 
as  the  beat  authorities  give  it  for  Alloivay, 
1  shall  relate  it. 

Un  a  snmmer'i  evening,  abant  tlie  time 
nature  puts  ou  her  sililes  to  inoura  the 
expiry  of  the  cliecrful  day,  a  shepherd  hoy, 
belonging  to  a  tanner  in  the  immediate 
iieighbuurhood  of  AUoway  kirk,  liad  jnat 
folded  bis  charge,  and  waa  returning  hoote. 
As  he  passed  the  kirk,  in  tlie  s^iainiug 
held,  he  fell  iu  with  a  crew  of  men  and 


rt  Hew  oS,  lil 


■'Upi;' 


:  Pej^us, 


oil  which  the  Kiigwo 
throi^h  the  air  with 
boy  bkflwise  pulled  his  Ragwort,  and  eried 
with  the  rest,  "  Up  horsie  I "  and,  strange 
to  tell,  away  he  dew  with  the  company. 
The  that  stage  at  wliich  the  cavalcade  stopt, 
was  a  merchant's  wine  cellar,  in  tionrdeau^ 
where,  without  sayiug,  by  your  leaie,  they 
quaffed  away  at  the  i>est  the  celhir  conlil 
afford,  until  tlie  morning,  foo  to  the  imps 

light  on  the  matter,  and  frightened  tbem 
fi^m  thor  carousula. 

The  poor  sliej>herd  lad,  being  equally  a 
stranger  to  the  scene  and  the  liquor,  heed- 
lessly got  himself  dnink ;  and  wiieu  the 
rest  took  horse,  he  fell  asleep,  aud  was 
fijund  so  ueic  day  by  aume  of  the  people 
betonging  to  die  nierchaiLt.  Somebody  tbat 
understood  iScolch,  a: 


by  s 


1  AUoway,  anil. 


TO  MR.   J,   CI,AEKE, 


;o  the  o 


S  Mr. 


lents  lo  Mr.  Clarke. 
1  did  himself  the 
!.  respecting  coining 


instruction  in  a  highly  respectable  family, 

may  he  as  happy  as  Lidulenee,  the  devil,  and 
the  gout,  will  permit  him.  Mr.  B.  knows 
well  how  Mr.  C.  is  engaged  with  anoUin 
ftiinilji  but,  eanuot  Mr.  C.  find  two  or  three 
weeks  to  spare  to  each  of  them  ?  Mr.  B.  is 
deeply  impressed  with,  and  awfully  con- 
scious of,  the  high  iinpartuice  of  Mr.  C.^a 
time;  whether  in  thn  winged  momenta  of 
symphonious  exhibitian,  at  tiie  keys  of 
harmony,  while  bstenbis  aeraplu  cease  thai 
own  less  delightful  strains;  or,  in  the 
drowsy  arms  of  slumb'roiis  repose,  in  the 
arms  of  his  dearly  beloved  elbow  ch^r, 
where  the   bowsy,  but  potent  power   ot 


Ho,t,db,  Google 


COEKESPONDEKCB  OF  BUBN8, 


my  hnrse  (though,  God  knows,  I  nmld 
lare  tlie  time),  end  HCcompurjied  them 
een  or  Mean  miles,  and  dined  and 
speat  the  dn;  with  them,  Twaa  ahout  aiiie, 
1  think,  when  I  left  theru,  and,  ridtw  home, 
I  composed  the  following  bollad,  of  which 
jou  wil!  ptobably  think  you  hare  a  dear 
Iwrgain,  as  it  will  cost  you  another  groat  of 
poitai^,  Yoii  must  know  that  then  is  an 
old  hallad  heginnmg  wllk : — 


TO  MRS.  DONLOP. 
^anan  IVoter-fool,  Atijatt  Xtnd,  1 
Da  not  bluBB  me  foe  it,   Madai 

beaten  as  it  ia,  in  wdt{:ht]iv  and  re^: 
my  va^ariea,  follies,  iodulence,  &c.,  hu 

Do  you  tliiiik  it  poasible.  mj  <Iear  and 
honoured  friend,  tliit  i  could  t —  '  ' "" 
gratiiuda  for  muiy  ftraura,  to 


d  t   hope. 


:  of,  m 


■  old  ai  . 

I— to  ask  the  Fates 

ITS   ai  they  possibly 


My  bonnie 

I'it  rowe  th 

!o  T  parodied  it 


So  much  fbt 

a  Aytshite  ii 
rorld  of  ours,  i 


iile  BaiHIie, 
iu  my  plaidie,  & 


ie  Lesley,  Sic. 

.    I  regret  that  you 


ota-ithatanfling  it 
it,  yet  ■■    ■ 


or  three  people,  «ho  would 
be  the  happier  the  oftener  tUey  met  together, 
ari^    ahumt  without  exception,  always  so 

~  tr,  which,  considering-  the  few  years  of  ■ 
'a  lifb,  is  a  very  ^rent  "cril  under  tlis 
'  which  I  do  not  reculleet  that  Boluinoa 

m,  1  hope,  and  believe,  tlial  there  u  ■ 
(  of  esiatenfe  beyond  tlie  grave,  wheta 
worthy  of  this   liie  will  renew  their 


abyss  of  tha  honnilleas 
cf  lova,  owing  to  the     , 


■em  EC       ions,  I  most  da  justice 

X  heatt-struck  awa ;  tlie 
d  ta  toaah;  Jha  delight  wa 
go  u„  upon  and  listening  to 
t  messenger  of  Heaven,  appei^ing  in  ftll  the 
nmpDttcd  purity  of  his  cclestinl  hoiue, 
amoug  tlie  coane,  pollnt&l,  far  inferior  aona 
ofmen,-     ■  ■        "     '  "     " ' ■-----•- 


t[a)>he  to  the  detnrted  sons  of  men,  hac  noC 
one  of  them  has  ever  thought  lit  to  answer 
the  question.  "Oh  that  some  courteous 
ghost  would  blah  it  out  I "  But  it  cannot 
ind  I,  my  friend,  must  make  the 
I  by  ourselves,  and  for  ourselves, 

sliakcn  £iith  m  the  doctrines  of  religion  is 
lecessary,  by  making  ua  bett^ 


tious  sosx  in  transport — eueh.  so  delighcins 
and  so  pur^  were  the  emotions  of  my  sonl, 
on  meetnig  the  other  day  with  iliss  Lesley 

BidUie,  your  neighbour,  at  M ^'s.   Mr.B, 

vith  his  two  duughtera,  eecompanied  by  Ur. 
H,  of  G,  passing  through  Dumfries  a  few 
days  ago,  on  tlieir  "ay  to  Enghind,  did  me 
the  honour  of  catling  ou  me ;  on  whielt  1 


It  also  by  making 


gudsoD,  Bud  every  1 

call  loe  faEhar,  aliail  he  taught  them. 

" -'-  this  hetarogeneous  letlar. 

ild  place  of 

of  dischaiging  I 


rid,  m 


mfroin 


,..,  Google 


.   CUNNINGHAM.  383 

s,  thou  spirit,  but  not  in  these  horrid 


TO  MR  CUNNINGHAM. 

Domfnei,  Sept.  lOlh,  1792. 
No  I  1  will  not  attempt  au  apoli^. 
Amid  all  my  hurry  of  husinea?,  grinding 
the  foces  of  the  pubUcan  and  the  smuer  on 
the  mercilesa  wheels  of  the  Excise ;  miikiiig 
ballad^  and    then    drinlung;  and    eingin^ 


licaciona ;  atill,  still  I  might 
minut«  to  dedicate  Co  one  ol 
ftiends  and  felhjw-oteatures. 
done,  aa  1  do  at  present,  snatched  an  honr 
near  "witehinj  time  of  night,"  and  scrawled 
a  pao:e  or  two,  I  might  hate  eonfcutuliiled 
my  friend  ou  hu  marriage ;  or  I  might  Iiitve 
thanked  the  Caledonian  archera  for  the 
honour  they  have  done  me  (tliough,  to  do 
myjelf  jnatic^  I  intended  to  have  done  both 
in  rhyme,  elae  I  had  dons  both  long  ere 
now.)  Well,  then,  here  la  to  yonr  good 
health ! — for  yoa  mast  know,  I  hare  sel,  a 
nippetkin  of  toddj  by  me,  jnst  by  way  of 
Bpell,  to  keep  away  the  meikle  homed  deil, 
or  auy  of  his  aubaltern  uups,  who  ai^y  be 
on  their  nightly  rounds. 

But  what  shall  I  write  to  you?  "The 
Toice  ssid,  Cry,"  and  1!  said,  "What  aliall  I 
cry?' 


u  „  the  f  cd  or  tbrry,  ni  the  starless  night, 
miiing  thy  lau^iting  yell  uith  tlie  howling 


m  the  tambUug 

IHTHbl        UC,     IdALiy,     UB    LHUU    a    gbOSt,  pajUlg 

thy  nocturnal  visits  to  the  hoary  ruins  of 
decayed  grandeur ;  or  perfimniiig  thy  mystic 
rites  in  the  shadow  of  the  tinie-«ocu  church, 
while  the  moon  looks,  withont  a  cloud,  on 
ths  silent,  ghastly  d»ellings  of  the  dead 
KTOUiid  tliue,  or,  taking  tliy  stand  by  the 
bedside  of  tlie  villain,  or  the  murderer,  por- 
traying on  his  dreaming  fancy,  pictuies. 
dieadfal  as  the  horrors  of  unveded  hell,  and 
terrible  la  the  wnth  of  iuceiued  Deityl 


wig  of  a  prating  advor 


a  pmr  devil 
m  iiw  vkiDiopt  to  sharo 
^  half  a  hundred  u-orda; 


got  one  EiTigle  si 


imark,  worth  putting  pen  it 


A-propos,  ho*  do 

youhke- 

I  mean  iwlij 

like— the  married 

life?    Ah, 

my  friend  1 

a  differei 

t  thine  from 

what  your  love-sick  youths  and  sigiiiiig  giris 

tateittohel    Bu 

marriage, 

ue  are  toM,  is 

and  I  shal 

never  qusirel 

with  any  of  his  inat, 

am  a  husband 

of  older  standing 

hanyo;,. 

nd  stiall  gi^ 

you  mil  ideas  of 

the  oonju 

d    state  V 

;  you  koo 


co^i/oJ  derivedfromjiiaii»i,ayokel)  Well, 
then,  the  scale  of  good  wifeahip  1  divide  into 
ten  parta,  OotHl-iiatnre,  four ;  Good  Sense, 
two;  Wit,  one;  Feisonal  Charms.  ti>.  a 
sweet  face,  eloquent  eyes.  Hue  liiubd,  graceful 
■■      luld  add  a  " 


now),  all  th 


h,  thou  spirit  1  whatever  tbou  art, 

as  for  the  other  qiaiities  beloiigiug  to,  oi 

'ver  thou  makest  thyself  liaiblel 

attending  on,  a  wife,  sur*  as  Fortune,  Con- 

I bofle  by  tlH  eene  aide  of  an  anld 

nections,  Education  (1  mean  education  tf 

the  dreary  glen  through  which  the 
w    biek         hi  ^           route 

traordinary),  Faiiiily  blood.  &c  divide  the 

two  remaining  degrees  among  them  as  you 

ai           B     h           row        set,  at 

please;  ojily,  remember,  that  all  these  miuor 

to           askb      h    basing 

ar     h    n,  vhere  t).e 

for  there  is  not  any  oue  of  tlvem,  hi  the 

IS                ro     fla.            afliight 

afuKsud  scale,  entitled  to  the  dignity  of  an 

h       p       rm               w  rk  of 

i«tegir. 

m         re         mck- 

As  for  the  rest  of  my  fkncies  and  rorenea 

m          ee  to    h    ai          og  of 

—how  I  lately  met  with  Miss  Lesley  BailHc, 

iful,  elegant  woman   ii 

world — how  1  acoimpanied  her  and  her 
lather's  family  fifteen  miles  on  tlieir  journey, 
■out  of  pine  devotion,  to  admire  the  loseli- 
nesa  of  the  works  of  God,  m  such  an 
unequalled  display  nf  them — how,  in  gallop- 
ing home  at  night,  I  made  a  ballad  on  her,  of 
which  these  two  staiisas  make  a  part — 

Thon,  bonnie  Lesley,  art  a  queen, 

ITiy  anhjects  ive  before  thee; 
Thou,  bonnie  Lesley,  art  diiine, 

Tlie  beans  o'  men  adore  tliee. 
Tlie  v»y  d«l  he  could  na  scatlie 

Whatever  wad  helaug  thee  1 
He'd  look  into  thy  bonnie  face 

And  say,  'I  canua  wrang  thee' — 


Hoifdb,  Google 


CORRESPONDENCE  OF  I 


Beholil  nil  these  things  nre  writteu  i 
ditouicles  of  roj  imngiiiation,  and  shall  be 
read  by  thee,  mj-  dear  friend,  aud  hy  thy 
beloced  apoiise,  m;  other  dear  friend,  at  a 

Now,  to  choe,  and  to  thy  befiire-desijnied 

thin^  biDD^ht  faith  by  the  snn,  and  the 
predniii  thiu^s  brought  forth  by  Ihe  moon, 
aud   the  lienigneat  iufliieiices  of  the  stars, 

foimtains  of  iSb,  and  by  tlie  tree  of  hfc.  for 


MR.  TIIOJISON  (L'iO)   TO  BURNS. 
Edinhnrjii,  September  1792. 
Sin— For  some  years  pK5t  I  h*rt,  with  a 
fiiend  or  tvo,  euiployed  many  Leisure  hours 

of   our  national  melodies  tor  publioitiou, 
We  have  engioed  Bevel,  the  most  agreeable 


alloirect  by  every  one  conrersaul  with  our 
niUHCal  cnllectiont.  The  editors  of  these 
aeein,  in  emeral,  to  have  depeuc" 

hence,  some  cbarmiug-  melodies  an 

mete  nonsense  and  ^{^rel,  while  others  are 


company.  To  remove  this  reproach  would 
be  an  easy  tast  to  the  authot  of  the 
"Cotter's  Saturday  Night;"  aud,  for  the 
honour  of  Caledonia.  I  would  ftua  hope  he 
may  be  iudiiced  to  take  up  the  pen.  If  so, 
we  Bhall  be  enabled  to  present  tlie  public 
with  a  collection,  infinitely  more  iutercsting 
than  any  that  has  yet  appeared,  and  accept- 
able ta  all  persona  of  taate,  wliether  they 

panimenla,  or  characteristic  verses.  We  will 
esteem  your  poetical  aasiitance  a  particular 

you  ahatl  pleaae  to  demand  for  it.  Froflt  is 
quite  a  secondary  conaideration  with  ua,  and 
we  are  resolved  to  apare  neither  p^ns  nor 
expenae  on  the  pubUcUiou.  Tell  me,  frankly, 


melodies  which!  am  pre- 
ciception- 


then,  whether  you 
writing  twenty  or 
to  the  v«rticolar 
pared  to  send  you.  A  fet  . .  ..„ ., 
able  only  In  aome  of  their  verses,  i  vui  lu 
visa  suhmit  to  your  consideration;  leavi 
it  to  you,  either  to  mend  these,  or  make  m 
songs  iu  their  stead.  It  is  superSuous 
assure  you  that  I  have  no  intention  to  £ 
place  any  c^  the  sterling  old  songs  ;  thr 
only  will  be  removed  which  appear  qu 
aillT  nr  absolutely  indecent.  Even  the 
shall  be  all  e<:am'med  fay  Mr.  Bums,  and 
he    is  of   opinion  that  any  of   them  a 


BURNS  TO  MR.  THOMSON. 

Dumfries.  Sept.  lets,  1793. 
Sib — I  have  jasl  this  ronmant  got  your 

lositively  add  to  my  enjovmenta  in  comply- 
og  with  it.  I  shall  enter  into  jour  nudcr- 
akiug  with  all  the  small  portion  of  ahilities 


niuxic  of  old  Caledonia,  and.  ei»ce  you 
request  it,  h»ve  eheerfidly  promised  my  mite 

your  ain  with  the  first  line  of  the  printed 
verses  you  intend  fiir  them,  tliat  1  may  hare 
BU  opportunity  of  anggestins  any  alceation 
that  may  occur  to  me  7  You  know  'tia  m 
the  way  of  my  ttade;  still  leivmit  you, 
gentlemen,  the  undoubted  r^ht  of  publishers 


a,  foe 


.approi  . 

)r  English  verses,  tnere  u,  on  my  part,  au 
ad  of  itie  matter.    "Whether  in  the  sim- 
plicity of  the  ballad,  of  the  pathos  of  the 
g,  1  can  only  hope  to  pleaae  myself  in 

ive  toHicue.  Enr^ish  vereei,  particidsrly 
....  noiks  of  Scotsmen,  that  have  merit,  are 
certainly  very  eligible,  "Tweedaidel"  "Ahl 
the  poor  shepherd's  mournfill  fate  I  '*  "All  I 
Chloris,  could  1  now  but  sit,"  &o„  yon  oiti. 
not  mend;  but  such  insipid  stulf  as  "To 
F.umy  fair  could  1  impart,"  &c.,  usually  act 
to  "  'i'he  Mill,  Mill.  O ! "  is  a  disgrace  to  tlic 
collectioua  in  whicii  it  has  aheady  appeared. 


Ho,t,db,  Google 


ME.  THOllSON  TO  BURNS. 


and  wonld  doubly  di^jraca  s  loller 
will  haie  the  tery  superior  merit 
But  mora  of  tbis  ia  tlie  further  pi 


my  sonffa  either  above  or 
tliey  sball  absolutely  be  the 


Jl  not  alter  eitcept  where  1 
thiali  that  t  amend. 
^iDunera^jou,  you  may  thmh 


with  which  I 
embark  in  your  tradertalciug,  to  talk  of 
money,  wages,  fte,  hire,  &c,  would  be  dowo- 
riglit  prostitution  (138)  of  soul !    A  proof  of 


p  thEit  I  compose 


TO  MRS,  DUNLOP. 

Dtimfiiii. 

Sept.  2ilh,  1782. 

I 

HAVE  this  momen 

mv  dear  Madam. 

youp 

of  the  23rd,     All  yonr  other  kinJ 

achea,  your  news, 

6c,  are  out  of  my 

heac 

rtenl  read  and  th 

nkon  Mrs,  Henri's 

tioti.      Good    God 

a  heart-sounded 

hel™ 

K9  young  woman- 

n  a  strange,  foreign 

iaud 

end  that  land  co 

vulsed  with  every 

slmgfl 


— aick — lookuig,  longing   for  a  comforter, 

hat  it  is  too  much:   lie  who  wounded  (he 
only  can)  may  He  heal ! 
1  wish  (ke  &rmer  great  joy  of  his  new 

not  say  that  I  give  him  joy  of  hia  life  aa  a 
fanner.  Tis,  as  a  iarnier,  paying  a  dear, 
unconscionahie  rent,  a  carteil  lifs !  As  to  a 
Wrd  farming  his  own  property ;  sowmj  his 
own  com  in  hope ;  and  reaping  it,  in  spite 
of  brittle  weather,  in  gladness;  knoviing 
tkat  none  can  say  unto  him,  "What  dost 
thou?" — tiltteidng  his  herda;  shearing  hia 
flocks  i  rejoidng  at  Christmas  ;  and  beget- 
ting sons  and  daughters,  until  he  be  the 
renerated,  grey-hiured  leader  of  a  little  tribe 
—'lis  a  heavenly  lite  I  but  dei'il  take  the  lite 
of  reaping  the  fruits  that  another  must  eat. 
Well,  your  kind  wisliea  will  be  gratiiied, 
(9  to  seeing  me  when  I  make  my  Ayrahite 


OHths'  1 


e  Mra.  B.  uuti 


i    the    patriarchal 


leader  of  a  band.  However,  if  Heaven  irilt 
he  so  obliging  as  to  let  me  have  them  in  tba 
proportion  of  thwe  boys  to  one  girl  I  shall 
be  so  much  (he  more  pleaseil.  I  hope,  if  I 
am  spared  with  them,  to  show  a  set  of  boys 
that  will  do  honour  to  my  cares  and  nune  j 
but  I  am  not  equal  to  the  task  of  rearing 
girls.  Besides,  1  am  too  poor— agul  should 
always  hive  a  fortune.  A-propoa,  yonr  UtUe 
godson  ia  thriving  charmingly,  but  is  a  very 
devil.  He,  though  two  years  younger,  has 
completely  mastered  his  brother,  Itobert  ia 
indeed  the  mildest,  geuthat,  creature  I  ever 
aaw.  He  has  a  most  aurprising  memory, 
and  is  quite  the  pride  of  his  schoolmaster. 

upon  a  subject  dear  to  our  heart — you  on 
cKcuse  ic.    God  bless  you  and  yours  1 


TO  THE  SAME. 


much-valued,  t 


een  from  home,  and  did  not 
letter  until  my  return  the  other 
What  shall  I  say  (o  comfort  yon,  my 
_,.._j  _.._..  -^jcted  friend  I  I  can 
but  grieve  with  you ;  consolation  I  have 
uone  to  offer,  eicept  that  which  rehgion 
holds  out  to  the  children  of  affliction— 
(childrtn  of  qfflktioa!— hot  just  the  «& 
pression '.] — and  tike  every  other  &mity, 
they  have  matters  among  them  which  they 
liear,  see,  and  feel  in  a  serious,  all-important 

cares  to  hav^  any  idea.    The  world  looha 
iodifFerently  on,  makes  the  passing  remark. 


a.  Madam!  nhoi 


uld  wbb  for  mi 


ray- 


til  our  joys  gradually  eirpure,  and  leave  ua 
a  night  of  misery — like  the  gloom  which 
ts  out  the  stars,  one  by  one,  from  the  fkce 
night,  and  leaves  us,  without  a  ray  ot 
ofort,  in  the  howling  waste ! 

am  interrupted,   and  must    leave  cfl. 
u  shall  aoou  hear  from  me  again. 

B.B. 


MR.  THOMSON  TO  BURNa 

EdixbursK  Oct.  13(4, 1793, 
Dkab  8!R — I  received  with  much  satis- 
Action  your  pleasant  and  obliging  letter  au^. 


Ho,t,db,  Google 


the  enilmsia^iD  with  nhich  ;ou  luve  eiitucd 
mtti  our  uuderlBkinj.  We  have  now  no 
donbt  of  being  able  to  produce  s  collection 
highly  deseriTiig  of  public  sCteiiCion  in  all 

I    sgreo  with  you  ia  thinking   Enslish 
Tcrses,  thai  have  merit,  yay  eligible,  mtere- 

English  becomes  every  jear,  more  and  Eioca, 
the  Ungua^e  of  Scotland ;  bnt,  if  yon  loean 
that  no  Knghsh  veiaes,  except  those  by 
Scottish  authoia,  ought  to  be  wtmitted,  I  am 
half  inclined  to  differ  from  jou.    I  shoald 


CORRESPO^TDEXCE  OF  BTJRSS. 


niited  to 


Klet«  a  few  eicellent 

provided  or  ill-prorided  airs,  would  it  not  b 
the  rery  bigotry  of  hlerary  patriotiara  t 
Rject  anch,  merely  becauie  the  authoc 
were  bom  south  of  the  Tweed  ?  Our  wee 
air,  "  My  Nannie,  0 1 "  «hich  ' 


.s  JOll 
Allan    HamaHy 


stnff  tl 


"  While  aome  tor  pleasure  pawn  their  he^th," 
■nawera  so  finely  to  Dr.  Fercy'a  beautiful 
long,  "  Oh  Naucy,  ndt  thou  go  with  me  P  " 
le  would  think  he  wrote  it  on  purpose 


ir  the  ai 


Howe 
online  you 


o  English 


shall  freely  be  allowed 
native  tuiigne,  as  you  elegantly  espreas  it ; 
and,  ■noreovn',  n'e  will  patiently  n^E  yont 
own  time.  One  thing  only  I  beg,  H  hich  ii, 
that  however  gay  and  sportive  the  muse  may 

nnte  nhet  beauty  would  blush  to  speak,  nor 
Touud  that  charming  delicacy  wbicli  forms 
^^  '     t  dowry  of  our  danghtera. 


I  don< 


ould  b 


!of  0 


«ongs,  the  writers  have  coofonnded  simplicity 
with  coarseness  and  vnl^ity^  althunglL 
between  the  one  and  Che  other,  ai  Dr.  Beattie 
well  observes,  there  is  as  great  a  diSerenee 
u  between  a  pldn  suit  of  clothes  and  a 
bundle  of  rags.  The  humorous  ballad,  or 
pathetic  complaint,  h  best  suited  to  our  art^ 

in  all  songs,  than  the  most  pointed  wit, 
dauling  descriptions,  and  flowery  ^cies. 


soon  tiansmit  the  rest,  and,  at  the  same 
tune^  a  prospectus  of  the  whole  collection  ; 
ud,  you  may  believi^  we  will  receive  any 


BURNS  TO  MB,  THOMSON, 
Mr  Dear  Sir— Let  ma  tell  yon,  that 
ou   are   tna   fastidious  in  your  ideas  c4 
oncri  and  ballads,    I  own  that  your  criti- 


mark  in  them ;  but  who  shall  mend  the 
atter?  Who  tliall  rise  up  and  say,  "Go 
!  I  will  make  a  heller?"  For  instance, 
,  reading  o  "       - 


It  tryinj 


1.  I  could  m 


and. 


han  the  following,  which  Heaveu  knows,  ia 

[Ilerefillmo  the  lm>  first  itanrna  of  "  Mg 
in  kinddearii  OI"i 

I  the  aptitude  of 


Dr.  Fetty^s  ballad  to  i 
is  just.  It  is  beside 
beautiful  ballad  in  the  Ei 


'ha^s,  the  most 

'   '    '   ignage, 

there  is 


iuihe 


meut  and  style  of  our  Scottish 
a  pastoral  simplicity,  a  something  tnai;  one 
may  call  the  Doric  style  and  dialect  of  vocal 
music,  to  which  a  dash  of  our  nstiie  tongue 
and  manners  is  particularly,  nay,  peculiarly 
apposite.  For  this  reason,  and,  upon  my 
honour,  tax  this  reason  alone,  1  am  of 
opinion  (hut,  as  I  told  you  before,  my 
opmiou  is  yours,  freely  yonra,  to  approve  or 
r^ect,  as  you  please)  that  my  ballad  of 
"  Kannie,  O  1 "  might  perhaps  do  for  one  set 

enter  into  your  head,  that  you  arc  imder  any 
necessity  of  taking  my  verses,  I  have  long 
npo  made  up  ray  mind  as  to  my  own  repll- 

hace  nothing  to  be  pleased  or  ulfended  at,  in 

Though  you  should  rc^jecl  one  ludf  of  what 
I  give  you,  I  shall  he  pleased  tviih  your 
adopting  the  other  half,  and  shall  continue 


Hosted  by  Google 


the  most;  agreeable  inodulaCiiHi  of  syllabtea. 

I  will  soon  (rive  you  8  great  many  mora 
temarks  on  this  buainesa ;  but  I  have  juat 
now  aa  opponiiiiity  of  conveying  jou  this 
acra'1,  free  of  posta^,  an  eipeiise  that  it  is 
ill  able  to  pay ;  so,  with  toy  best  complimeula 
to  honest  Allan,  Gude  be  wi'  je,  && 
Fridny  Night* 

SaturdBn  MoTRing. 

Aa  I  iai  I  haie  still  an  hout  to  spue  this 
morning  before  my  conveyance  goes  away,  I 
will  give  you  "  Nannie.  O I  "  at  ietigtb. 

Yonr  remarks  on  "Ewe-bughts,  Mstion," 
■re  just ;  still  it  has  obtained  a  place  among 
our  more  classical  Scottish  songs ;  and  what 
with  many  beauties  in  its  compoei^on,  and 
mora  prqudices  in  its  favour,  you  will  not 
find  it    - --  '-    -- 


,       supplant 
In  my  very  early  yeai 


^     .,  ies,  I  took  the 

Mowiiig  farewell  of  a  dear  girl.  It  is  quite 
trifling,  and  has  nothing  of  the  merits  of 
"Gve-bi^^hts;''  bat  it  will  ill  up  this  page 
Yon  must  know  that  all  my  earlier  love- 
songs  were  the  breathings  of  ardent  passion, 
and  thoi^  it  might  have  been  easy  in  afier- 
timea  to  have  given  (hem  a  polish,  yet  that 
polish,  to  me,  whose  they  were,  and  who 
perhaps  alone  cared  for  tiiem,  would  have 
defaced  the  legend  of  my  heart,  which  was 
so  feithfully  inscribed  on  them,    llieir  un- 

[Here /allocs  the  ang  "  Wilt  ye  ga  la  Ih^ 
Miat.msMarsf"  Mr.Thomsim  did  mt 
adopt  the  60H!f  in  hit  eollectioH.'] 

"Gala  Wafer,"  and  "Auld  Bob  Morris," 
I  think,  will  most  probably  be  the  iieit 
subject  of  my  muainga.  However,  eteu  on 
my  verses,  speak  out  youi  cticicisms  with 
eqoal  fraiiness.  My  wish  is,  not  to  stand 
aloof,  the  uucomplying  bigot  of  opiniBlrete, 
bur  copJially  to  join  isane  with  you  in  the 
fHTtbenmce  of  the  work. 


BURNS  TO  ME.  THOMSON. 

Nammber  81S,  1792. 
If  yoM  mean,  my  dear  Sir,  that  all  the 
gongs  in  your  collection  shall  he  poclry  ol 
the  first  merit,  I  am  afraid  yon  wit!  lind 
more  difficulty  in  the  undertaking  than  you 
are  aware  of.     There  is  a  peculiar  rhy^mue 


:h.  Tuojtsos. 

adapting  syllabi 


and  a 


ssity  of 


the  feature-nuiEs  of  the  tun^ 
that  cramp  the  poet,  and  lay  him   under 

in  the  ait,  "  My  wife's  a  wanton  wee  thmg," 
if  a  few  lines  smooth  and  pretty  can  be 
adapted  to  it,  it  is  all  you  can  eipect.  The 
following  were  made  eitempore  to  it ;  and 
thou{.'h,  on  further  study,  I  might  give  you 
something  more  profound,  yet  it  m^ht  not 
suit  the  lixht-horse  gallop  of  the  air  ao  well 
aa  this  nndom  clink: — 


I  havejust  been  looking  overthe  "Collier's 
bonnie  dnchter;"  and  if  the  following  rhap- 
sody, u'hich  1  composed  the  other  day.  on  » 
charming  Ayrshire  girt,  ■'---  '--»---  n.^iir. 


paased  through  this  place  to  England, 
nnusuit  your  lute  better  than  the  "CoUiei 
Lassie,"  fiiU  on  and  welcome : 


better  than  the  "  CoUiei 
[Henfaiovit  "Boxaie  Lsjfsff."] 


BURNS  TO  MK.  THOMSON. 

A'oMmter  14(S,  1793. 
Mt  Dear  Sih— I  agree  with  yon.  thut 
iworthy,  of 
ind,  Ogie, 


,    .  .  attempt  at  intro- 

duciug  sentiment  into  the  piece.  The  tore- 
going  son;  pleases  myself;  I  think  it  is  in 
my  happiest  manner ;  you  will  see  at  first 
glance  that  it  auits  the  mr.  The  aubjeet  of 
the  song  is  one  of  the  most  interesting  pas- 
sages of  my  youthful  days,  and  I  own  that 
I  shouhl  be  much  flattered  to  see  the  verses 
set  to  an  air  which  would  ensure  celdirity. 
Perhaps,  after  all,  'tis  the  stiH  glowing  pre- 
judice of  my  heart  that  throws  a  borrowed 
lustre  over  Uie  merits  of  the  composition. 

I  have  partly  taken  your  idea  of  "  Auld 
Bob  Monis."    I  have  adopted  the  two  Sist 


Ho,t,db,  Google 


CORRESPONDENCE  OP  BURNS. 


It.  B. 
cop!/  nf  the  "Biiihiand 


MR.  THOMSJN  TO  BUBNa 
El  ibtt  jh    \       179 
DEiR  Sir — I    as  just  g"  "S  '    "'nK 

a  that  on  meeiin„  with  yout  Naiime.  I 

you,  therefore,  for  sendiug  the  <^harmiD( 
niscic  to  me,  in  the  dress  you  wish  lier  ti 

great  credit,  und  ivill  soon  be  admitted  inli 

I  regret  that  your  song  for  the  "  Lea-tig; ' 
is  ao  ahort;  the  air  is  easy,  soon  aung,  an 
wry  irteaaiug :  so  that,  if  the  siiiget  stops  a 


Although  a  dasli  of  onr  native  tongue 
Lnners  ia,  donhlleaa,  peculiarly  congeoinl 
d  appropriate  to  our  melodies,  yet  1  aliail 

""   '" '  "    onaiderable  number  of 

"  ~     "■  ■  wel) 


the  X 


se  melodies,  which,  in  England,' 

them  to  still  greater  attention  than  they 
have  procured  there.  But,  you  will  observe, 
my  plan  is,  that  every  air  aliall,  in  the  first 
pkce,  have  rerses  sholl;  hy  Scottiah  poeCa 
■nd  thu  those  of  Engitsh  writers  shall  folhi 


|what  you  gay 

plant  it.  All  I  requet 
would  try  your  hand  on 
stwiaas,  ivhich  are  appar 


the  "Eive-bughts"  is 
^ted  was,  that  you 

t  length,  though  those 
aitlej,  as  they  wUl  be 


I  eipect  aJl  the  songs  to  I 
down  doggedly  to  pen  vers 


ine  for  "  Return  to  Caledonie."  in  the  laat 
'erae,  because  I  thinlt  this  alteration  of  tlie 
irtiir^raphy,  and  of  the  sound  of  Caledonia, 

Of  the  other  song,  "  My  wife's  a  winsome 
ree  thing,"  1  think  the  firat  eight  hues  very 
^ood  ;  hut  I  do  not  admire  the  other  eight, 
lecause  four  of  them  are  a  hare  repetition  ol' 
he  lirst  rerses.  1  have  been  trying  to  spm 
.  stanza,  but  could  make  notliing  better  than 
hefoDowing:  do  you  mend  it,  or,  aa  Yorick 
ltd  with  tlie  lore  letter,  whip  it  up  m  youi 


Oh  I 


lug's  f  hae  my  itee  thing, 


And  may  see  meikle  mair  o\ 
\Vi'  her  ni  liljthely  bear  ili 

Yon  perceive,  m;  dear  Sir,  I  avail  myself 
of  the  liberty,  which  yon  condescend  to  allow 
me,  by  speaking  freely  what  I  think.  Be 
assured,  it  is  not  my  disposition  to  pick  out 
the  faults  of  any  poeni  or  picture  1  see :  my 

delighted  with  the  beanties  of  the  piece.  It 
I  lit  down  to  examine  critically,  and  at  leisure, 
what,  perhaps,  yon  hare  written  ui  haste,  I 
may  happen  to  observe  careless  linea,  the 
reperuaal  of  which  might  lead  yon  to  improve 
them.  The  wten  will  ofteu  aee  what  has 
been  overlooked  by  the  eagle.  I  remain 
yours  faithfully,  &c. 

P.  S.  Your  verses  upon  "  Highland  Mary" 
are  just  come  to  baud;  the;  breathe  the 
genuine  spirit  of  poetry,  and,  like  the  music, 
will  lost  for  ever.  Such  vetses,  uaited  la 
such  an  ^r,  with  the  delicate  harmony  of 
rjeyel  superadded,  might  form  a  treat  wortliy 
of  being  presented  to  Apollo  himself.  I  have 
'   the  aad  atory  of  your  Mary;  you 


Ho,t,db,  Google 


TO  MRS    DCHtOP. 


BURNS  TO  J  P    THO    Si,  N 

T     R  m        N  < 

are  perfect     r^      So  ttr        se 


ucli-esteemed  fiteai,  hs 


lisiting  Bt  Dunlop-hoo 
AIbs,  Madam!  how  sel 


ildom  do  we  meet  in 


Lealey."  Tou  are  right ;  the  word  "  Aieir 
aiider"  makes  the  line  a  little  uncoutli,  hue  I 
think  the  thought  is  pretty.  Of  Alexander, 
beyond  ali  other  heroes,  it  may  be  said,  ia 
the  sublinie  laogaage  of  Scripture,  that  "he 
went  forth  conquering  and  to  conquer." 
Pot  nature  made  her  what  she  is. 
And  never  made  anither.  ISuch  b  person  ta 
sbaia) 

•Ne'er  niada  sic  anither."  However,  it  ia 
immaterial;  makeiteithetway.  "Caiedouie." 
I  agree  with  yon,  ia  not  bo  good  a  word  as 
could  be  wished,  though  it  b  eanctioned  in 
.u ..... J  ^j  ^11^  pj 


ich  I,    an 
ought  to  in 


It  help  i 


loi 


e  most  difKcult  that  I  hare 
ever  tned. 

The  "Lea-tigf  is  as  follows  :— 

[Here  the  pael  repeofs  the  first  too  itasiot, 
addins^aihird.] 

1  am  interrupted.    Youra,  &e. 


BURNS  TO  MK.  TIIOJISON. 

December  Hi,  17^S. 
The  foregoing  [■■  Auld  Rob  Mortis  "  am 
"Ihiucau  Gray,"]  1  submit,  my  dear  Sir,  U 
your  better  j ailment.   Acquit  tliem,  ot 


TO  MRa.  DUNLOP. 

aim/riej,  Des.  Sth,  1793. 

wuk ;  and,  if  at  ^  poasible,  I  shall  certainly 


of  tlie  mortality  of  ( 


Evei7 


idful  abyss  of  uncertaini 
ivith  apprehensioii  for  our  ob 
how  diliferent  an  importance 
dilfereut  individuals  I  Naj 
portance  ii  one  period  of  thi 
than  another?  &  fe*  jeii 
have  lain  down  in  the  dust, ' 

and  these  most  helpless  md 


s  ago  I  eould 
careless  of  the 


■Biomson's  "  Edward  and  Eleanora :  "— 
"  The  valiant,  ia  himeir,  what  can  he  suffer? 
Or  what  need  he  regard  liia  single  woea  ?  "  &c. 
Aa  I  am  got  in  the  way  of  quotations,  I 
shall  irfve  you  another  from  the  same  piece, 
peculiarly — aJas !  too  peculiarly — ap|iosite, 
my  dear  Madam,  to  your  present  frame  <^ 


lie  rough    winds  rage  aloud;  when  from 
,aineoUng.     Heavens!    if  privileged  ftHM 


linil  as  ready  arinour, 

nee  Of  these  Is  one, 
■om  his  "Alfred  :"— 
Attach  thee  lirmly  to 
.uJoSeesof  litfe;  to 
Vith allits vain  and tr. 


Hosted  by  Google 


COEEEaPOKDESCE  OF  B 


>  apt  fo  be  guilty  of  ai 


BLtremely  apt 


uiothcj:  qnotaticHij  which  I  am  almost  a 
I  lu>v«  ^ven  you  lidare,  but  I  caiiiioi  re 
the  tempDItioii.  The  subject  it  relJKioi 
■{Waking  of  ita  jtuportauce  to  maiikiud. 


TiXhii.myrrieoil 

that  streakK  our  morning 

bright. 

I  see  you  are  in 

for  double  postDse,  ao  I 

.hall  e'fii  acribble 

«t  t'other  Bbm.    We  in 

this  couDlry  here,  hai«  idBQy  Rlarms  of  the 

reforming,  or  lather  the  repubbCBii  spirit,  of 

your  part  of  the  k 

gdom.    IndBL'd,  we  are  a 

good  deal  in  comm 
l«B.placeiua.^ 

ouknow.-HTeryhumbte 

oiLe,  indeed,   Hea 

en  knows,  bat  still    so 

mudi  as  to  gas  lie 

What  my  privale  sen- 

timents  are,  jou 

rill  find  ont  without  an 

llln  nken  up 

Jie  sutijeut,  and  the  other 

day,  for  a  pretty 

ictress's  benefit  night,  I 

lector,  ce 


OO  B,  GRAilAJI,  ESa,  riNTRY. 
December,  1792. 
Sin — I  have  been  surprised,  confounded, 
ind   distracted,  by  Mr.  Mitchell,  the    col- 
lue  that  he  liaa  rcceiied  an 
ir  Board  (1371  to  inquh^  into 
my  political  conduct,  and  blaming  me  b3  a 
person  disaffected  to  government. 

Sir,  yen  are  a  husband,  and  a  father.  Ton 
know  what  you  would  feel,  to  see  the  mucli- 
loTcd  wife  of  your  bosom,  and  your  helpless, 
pratthng  Utile  ones,  turned  adrift  hito  the 
world.  deEr»ded  and  disgraced  from  a  situa- 
tioa  in  which  they  had  been  respectable  and 
respecltd,  and  left  almost  without  the  neces- 
sary support  of  a  misemble  exisceace,  Alas, 
Su' !  must  I  thiult  that  such  soon  will  be  my 

eiiiy  too !     1  behei'e, 

.._, ...    in  the  sight  of  Omni- 

j,  that  1  would  TLot  tell  a  debheraie 


h  grouudle 


falsehood,  no. 


am  most  devoutly  attached.  You, 
ye    been  touch  and  Eonerously  tay 

Heaven  knows  how  warmly  I  haia 
3  oblixation.  and  how  gialefally  I 
lanfced  you.    Fortune,  Sir,  has  mads 


you  paU^mage,  and  me  dependence.  Iwould 
not,  for  my  single  self,  call  on  your  hu- 
manity ;  were  such  ray  insular,  unconnected 

swells  in  my  eye — 1  could  brave  misfortune, 
I  could  face  ruin,  for,  at  the  worst,  "  Death's 
thousand  doors  stand  opeui"    but,  good 

moment,  and  feel  around  me.  how  they  un- 
nerve courage  aod  wither  resolution  1  To 
your  patrouage,  as  a  man  of  some  genius, 
yon  have  nllovred  me  a  claim;    and  your 

To  these.  Sir.  permit  me  to  appeal ;  by  these 
may  I  adjure  yon  to  save  me  from  that 
misery  which  threatens  '"    '^  ' 


cath  1 


TO  MRS.  BUNLOP. 

JOum/rira,  Daxmier  3\st,  1792. 

Dear   MadiIU — A   hurry  of  business, 

irowu  in  heaps  by  my  absence,  has  until 

now,  pievented  my  returning  my  grateful 

ackaowled«menls  to   the    good   biuily  of 

""    ilop,  and  you,  in  particular,  for  that  ho»- 

ble  kindness  which  rendered    the  four 

i  I  spent  uudec  that  geoial  roof,  four  of 

pleaaantest  I  ei'er  enjoyed,    Alas,  my 


AyrsI 


call  pleasures  < — on  my  road 
spent  a  night  with  a  friend 


JanoBty  2nd,  IT9S. 


Hosted  by  Google 


TO  MR.  THOltSOS. 

u  mtul  not  think,   as 
lie,  that  in  ray  WRj  of  li 


set 


occaaiouaL  bard  drinking  is  die  devil  to  HI 
Against  this  I  bate  Again  and  again  bent  n 
resolution,  uid  have  gteatly  succeede 
Taiems  i  have  Wtally  abmdoiied :  it  is  t1 

hard-drinking  gentlemen  of  this  cmmfr 
that  do  me  the  mischief— but  eien  this, 
tave  more  than  holt  given  over,  (138) 

Mr.  Corbet  can  be  of  little  service  to  n 
Kt  present ;  at  least  I  ahonld  be  shy  of  i 
plying.    I  cannot  possibly  be  settled  »s 


the  rota 

on  ofthe  list,  and  there  are 

n'cnty 

names  before  mina,    I  might,  indeed 

job  of  0 

flidating,  where  a  settled  anperi  iaor 

was  Ul,  or  aged;  but  tlist  hauls  me  f 

fiunil;,  as  1  could  not  remove  them  o 

n  aueh 

auity.    Besides,  some  envio 

lieions  devil,  has  raiseil  a  little  demur 

political 

principles,  and  1  irtah  to  I 

t  that 

ettlehffote  I  offer  myself  to 

ia  the  e 

ye   of  my  anpet'iaors.    I  h 

h,  i.  seal  on  my  lips,  ».  t 

these 

unlucky 

polities;  bat  to  you,  I  must 

reathe 

my  sen 

meats.    In  this,  as  in  everything 

ds^Is 

hdl  shmv  the  undisguised  en 

otiona 

of  my  s 

ul.     War  I  deprecate:  mis 
thou$an<)s    ore  in  the  bla 
s  the  desiruclive  demon. 

ryand 

KB. 

TO  THE   S.iME.  (ISO) 

Jeitmry  m,  1793, 

Tou 

ee  my  hurried  life,  Mailam 

.  welfare 

responded  with  Commissioner  Otahom.  for 
the  board  had  made  me  the  subject  of  thrir 
viimadversions ;  and  nott  I  have  the  plea- 
rights  ill  thot  quarter.    Now,  as  to  these 

informers,  may  the  devil  be  tet  loose  to ■ 

But,  bold  1  f  vias  praying  most  fervently  in 
my  lost  sheet,  tuid  I  must  not  m  soon  fall 
a-Bwesring  in  tbia 

Alas  I  how  httle  do  the  H^ntoi  ly  or  i  ily 
otHcious  think  what  miachief  they  do  by 
their  malidous  insinuabons  indirect  mper 
tinence,  or  tbonghtleaa  blabbiflga     WhtU  ■ 


difference  there  is  in  intnnnc  worth,  cin- 
donr.  benevolence,  generoaty,  kindness— in 
all  the  ehonties  and  all  the  virtues— between 
one  class  of  human  beings  and  another.  For 
instance,  the  amiable  litefe  I  so  lately  mined 
with  in  tlie  hospitable  hall  of  Dunlop,  their 
generous  hearts,  their  uncontaminated  dig- 
nilied  minds,  their  informed  and  polished 
understandings — what  a  contrast,  when 
compared — if  such  comparing  were  not 
downright  sacrilegt — with  the  soul  o[  tho 
miscreant  who    can    delibenitdy  plot   the 


id  with  a 


see  the  unfortunate  being, 
and  prattling  innocents, 
bef-gary  and  niin  1 

Your  cup,  my  dear  Madam,  a 
I  had  two  worthy  fellows  dining' 
other  day,  when  I,  with  great  fo 


L  of  satisbction 


led    < 


^h  me  the 
I,  and  told 'th 


ong  the 


that  it  tad  been  a 
descendants  of  William'  Wallace, 
roused  such  an  enthusiasm,  that  they  in- 
sisted ou  hampering  the  punch  round  in  it ; 
and  by  and  bye,  never  did  your  great 
ancestor  lay  a  lulhron  more  complete^i  to 
rest,  thMi  for  a  time  did  your  cup  my  two 
frienda,  A-propos,  this  is  the  season  of 
wishing.  May  God  bleaa  you,  my  dear 
friend,  and  bless  me.  the  humblest  and 
friends,  by  granting  you 


of  the  , 


rlayaU 


earth  1     R.  B. 


BURNS  TO  UR.  THOMSON.  (140) 
January,  1793. 

Many  returns  of  the  season  to  you.  my 
dear  Sir,  How  comes  on  your  publication  P 
^-will  these  two  foregoing  be  of  any  service 
to  you  ?  I  should  like  to  know  what  eoiiga 
you  print  to  each  tune,  besides  the  verses  to 
which  it  is  set.  In  short.  I  would  wish  to 
give  you  my  opinion  on  all  the  poetry  you 
publish.  Yon  know  it  is  my  trade,  and  a 
man  in  the  way  of  his  trade  may  suggest 
useful  hints  that  escape  men  of  much  supe- 


If  y 


meet  with  my  dear  i 
iningbara,  greet  him,  ii 
impliments  of  the  aeosf 


Ho,t,db,  Google 


CORRESPONDENCE   OF  BUKN3. 
CtV.  or  pjstotal  kind,  wfll  be  joii 


MB.  THOMSON  TO  BURNS. 
EdisMr^h,  Jaaaars  aOii,  1793. 
Tod  make  me  faappj,  mf  dear  Sir,  aad 


ill  be  liapp  J, 
SD1IS9  fou  have  ten' 
retiirna  of  the  seaaon 


yoo. 


aad  daiightei 


(^Caledonia,  to  deiighC  thei 
yourself. 

The   four  last   songs  with  which   you 
fevoured  me,  "Auld  Fab  Morris,"  "Dun- 

1    Gray,"    "Gala  Water."    aad  "Csnld 


KaU," 


itable.    Duu 


ndeed  i 


lad  of  grace,  sud  bis  humour  will  e 
bim  to  every  body, 

llie  dialracted  lover  in'AuldRoV' H'ld 
the  h^py  aikepberdcsa  in  "  Gaia  Watery" 
eibibit  an  excellent  contrast :  they  speak 
from  genuine  feehng,  and  powerfully  touch 
the  heart. 


vhig  noue    behind    but  n 


atroke  engraving!,  the  one  ebafacteriatic  of 
the  plaintive,  and  the  other  of  ilie  lively 
eouga ;  and  I  have  Ur.  Beattie's  pioniise  of 
ui  essay  upon  the  subjeeD  of  our  nation^ 
mosic.  if  bia  he^th  will  permit  liim  to  write 
it.  Aa  a  number  of  our  lOugs  have  doubt- 
leaa  been  called  forth  by  particular  ei'euij, 


The  late  Mr.  Tytler  of  Woodbouaelee,  I 
believe,  knew  nioie  of  this  than  any  body ; 
Ibr  he  joined  to  the  pursuits  of  an  autiquaiy 


miioc  beyond  most  of  bis  contemporaries. 
He  was  quite  pleased  *ith  this  pku  of  mine, 
for  1  may  say  it  has  been  solely  managed  by 


■imply  mention  the  name  of  the  heroine  of 
each  Boug,  and  the  inddent  which  occasioned 
the  versea,  it  would  be  gratifying.  Pray, 
will  you  Bend  me  any  uiforniicion  of  this 
sort,  aa  well  with  r^ard  lo  your  own  aonga 

To  all  the  fiiioartte  songs  of  the  plaintiTe 


ledelica 


To  those 

of  the  comic  and  humorous  class,  X  think 
accompaniments  scarcely  necessary ;  they 
are  cbieOy  fitted  for  the  conviviality  of  the 
festive  board,  and  a  tuneful  voice,  with  a 
proper  deUvery  of  the  words,  renders  them 


adding 


r  fur 


1'hat  eccentric  bard,  Peter  lender,  haa 

because  of  tii 

Pegasus.  J  subjoin,  for  your  perusal,  i 
only  one  I  have  yet  got  from  bim,  bsu?  for 
tlie  fine  air,  "  Lord  Gregory."  The  Sooti 
verse:  priuled  with  that  air  ue  taken  bam 
the  middle  of  au  old  ballad,  called  "The 
Xah  of  Lochroyan,"  wMch  X  do  not  admire. 

creditor  of  youn.    Many  of  the  Jocobile 


Mn-TnoaaoN  In 
Mary" 


i^DnncE 


1  Gray"  f 


friend  Cuun 


of  itself  th 

of  you  from  our  mutual 
i,  who  is  a  most  e:ccelleuC 

lost  obliging  disposition. 
You  kindly  promised  me,  about  a  year  ago, 
a  collection  of  yournnpublisbed  prodnctions, 
reb^ous  and  amorous,  I  know,  from  expC' 
rienc^  howukaome  it  *    ' 


U  got  ai . 


n  Dumf 


e  Peter  Hill 

xnainly  shall  not  betray  your  conSdeuca. 
m  your  hearty  admirer, 

Akdb£W  Ebskine. 


Hosted  by  Google 


TO  CLAEINDA. 


RNS  TO  MR.  THOJiraON. 

Jaauiiry  26lk.  1793. 
/)VE  greitly,  my  denr  Sir,  of  your 
ir.  Beattie's  esatiy  will,  of  itself,  be 
!,  On  my  part  I  mean  to  draw  up 
dis  to  the  Doetor'a  essay,  coii- 
ly  stock  of  anecdotes,  &0.,  of  onr 
■  ■■      ■  e  late    Mc.  Tytlert 


s  1  h»re  by  m 


of  my  acqu^ntaaee  witU  hi 
1119  owu  mouth.  I  Bm  such  an  em 
iliat  in  the  conrse  of  my 
aons  tlirough  Scotland.  I  mudo  H  pilgrimage 
»  the  individual  spot  ftom  wliicli  every  boiij 
;ook  ita  rise,  "Lochaljer,"  and  tlia  "Braes  of 
" '    "    "     la  the  locality, 


ould  b 


le,  do  not  you  think  that  some  of  them, 
■ticulaily  "The  bow's  tail  to  Gaordie,"  Ha 
air,  with  otherTorda,  mig:hthe  veil  worth 
ilace  in  your  collection  of  hvely  songs  ? 
If  it  irere  noasihla  to  procure  songs  of 
rit,  it  would  be  proper  to  have  ona  aet  of 


Bords  to  which  th 

notes  o 

ught  to  be  aec 

I'here  is  »««««, 

pMtora 

simplidty,  in  a 

light    inlerniiitur 

of   Scots    words    and 

is  moH 

Icaat  to  my  taste, 

and,  I  w 

ill  add,  to  every 

taste)  with  the  simple 

latboa,  or  rustic  S] 

ghahver. 

The  Tery  name 

of  Pete 

Kndar  is  an 

vforfc,  (143)    Hia  "Gre- 

^ry"  is  beautiful 

lied  to  give  you 

r/etofstanaaa 

n  Scotch,  on  the  same 

ubjecti  which  are 

at   you 

service.    Not 

hat  I  intend  to  eater  the  1i 

ts  with  Peter- 

hat  would  be  pr 

Eaumpdo. 

indeed,     My 

ong,  though  mnci 

inferior 

n  poetic  merit, 

baa,  I  thinlc,  more 

of  the 

allad  «mpUcitj 

nit.  (143) 

iHer^fillow, 

"iord  Oregoiy."i 

TO  ClARINDA.  (144) 


:  shall  w 


n  friendship." 


id  I  have 
my  pen  to  try  an  ep 

grasping  a  pop-gun,  after  having  wielded 
hia  thunder.  When  I  take  up  the  p™, 
recollection  ruina  me.  Ah !  my  evee 
dearest  Clarindal  Clarindal — what  a  lioat 
of  mcmory^s  tendereat  offapring,  crowd  on 
my  fancy  at  that  sound !  But  I  must  not 
indulge  that  aubject— yon  have  forbid  it. 

I  am  eitremely  happy  to  leani  that  your 
preiuDua  health  is  re-estaliliahed,  and  that 
you  are  once  more  lit  to  eiyoy  that  satisfac- 
tiou  in  existence,  which  health  alone  can 
give  us.  My  old  friend  has  indeed  been 
kind  to  you.  Tell  him,  tliat  I  envy  him  the 
power  of  aetvii^  you.  I  had  a  letter  &am 
him  a  while  ago,  but  it  was  so  dry,  ao 
diatant,  so  hke  s  card  to  one  of  his  clients. 


-,   fe\law ;    and  imn  write   a 


a  good 


,e  wUI  w^ 


;  sheaf  of 


though  Fame  di 
my  approach  noie^  as  she  did  thfn^  ^vbeii  ike 
first  honoured  me  with  his  fiicndsiiip,  yet  I 
am  as  proud  as  ever ;  and  when  I  am  laid 
in  my  grave,  I  wish  to  be  stretched  at  my 
fiiU  length,  that  I  may  occupy  ever}  inch  at 
ground  which  I  have  a  right  to. 

"on  would  laugh  were  yon  to  see  ma 


•here  I  ai 


I  am. 
einployme 


d  that  eryin 
Here  o 


-would  t 


in  the  solitary  room  of  a  aoiitary 
inn,  with  a  solitary  bottle  of  wine  by  me — 
Hi  grave  and  as  stupid  as  an  owl,  but,  like 
that  owl,  still  ^thfiil  to  my  old  song.  In 
conlu'matioa  of  which,  my  dear  Mrs.  Mack, 
here  is  your  good  health !  niay  the  hand- 
walcd  beniaona  o'  Heaven  bless  your  bonuie 
f^e ;  and  Iho  wretch  wha  slcellies  at  your 
wel&re,  may  the  auld  tinkler  deil  get  him  to 
clout  his  rotten  heart !     Amen. 

Ton  mnit  know,  my  dearest  Madam,  that 
these  now  many  years,  wherever  I  am,  in 
whatever  company,  when  a  married  h  ' 
called  on  aa  a 
hnt  as  yonr  m 

even  to  my  most  intimate  friend,  I  g>'e  jui 
by  tiie  name  of  Mrs.  Mack.  This  is  so  wel 
known  among  my  acquaintances,  that  wbei 
my  married  My  is  called  for,  the  toast 
msstcr  will  say — ■"  O,  we  need  not  aak  hie 
wlio  it  ia~here's  Mrs.  Mack ! "     I  hav 


ver  passed  my  lips. 


Ho,t,db,  Google 


CORRESPONDENCE  OF  BURNS. 


toot  t,  rouniil  of  t 


«  celebrated  in  ancient  song? ;  and 
yott  ace  my  Clnrinda.    So,  my  lovely 

nda,  I  devote  this  glass  of  win-  --  - 
ardent  wiab  for  jour  happiness  1 


"Wrong'd,  injur'd,  shunn'd,  uupitied,  » 

The  mock'd  quotation  of  the  acorner'a  jee 
Let  Prudenfe'  direst  bodenieoU  on  me  fal 
Clitinda,  lichrenacd!  o'erpaystbemall!(H5) 

I  have  been  rhyminf;  a  little  of  late, 
I  do  nut  know  if  tliey  ate  worth  postagi 


TO  MR.  CUNNINGHAM. 

Ma'ch  3Td,  1793. 
SiHOE  I  wrote  to  you  (he  last  lugubriou! 
■beet,  I  have   not  had  time  to  write  yoi 
fiirther.    When  I  (ay  that  I  had  not  time. 


completely  eliared  m 

take  up  a  pen  in. 
Thanl  Heaven,  I 


:e  up  Thomson' 


unkindly;  and.  I  muse  own,  with  tc 
h  appearance  of  truth.    A-jropos,  t 

know  the  mnch-adniired  old  Hi^hlaii 
ailed  "rhe  Sulor'a  Dochter?"  ft  is 
-rale  favourite  of  mine,  and   I  hai 


circles,  by  Majui  Robertson,  of  Liide, 
;as  here  with  his  corps. 


HiKhlam 

pehWes,  » 

hicb 

Amcy  would 

e,and 

my  atmorial  bearins 

Bill  TOu  be  80 

obliging 

et  BiU  tie  the  eipense 

of  audi 

a  business? 

I  do 

not  know  that 

me  is  matriculated,  as  the  heralds  fall 
II,  but  1  have  invented  arms  for  my. 
so,  yon  know,  I  shall  be  chief  of  the 

and.  by  courtesy  of  Scolland,  will 
le  he  entitled  to  supporters.  These, 
ar.  1  do  not  iiiteud  havii^  on  my  aeoL 

bit  of  a  heteld,  and  shall  give  yon. 


the  colours,  a  wood-lark  perching  on  a  sprig 
of  bay-tree,  proper,  lor  crest.  Two  mottoes; 
Tonnd  the  top  of  the  crest.  Wood  nolei 
wild;  at  the  bottom  of  the  shield,  ui  the 
usual  place.  Better  a  viee  biah  than  nae  hietd. 
{Ntil  By  the  shepherd's  pipe  and  crook,  I 
do  not  mean  the  nonsense  of  painters  o( 
Arcadia,  but  a  slack  tad  horn,  and  a  clui, 
such   as    you  see    at  the  head  of   Allan 


{hat  they  narrow  and  harden  the 
if  1  think,  that  were  I  as  rich  as 
I,  I  should  he  as  generous  as  the 


ly  aoni  g  nobler  one  than 


li  imports  a  bird- 
which  the 
ould  have 


BURNS  TO  MR  THOMSON 

March  2Wh  1793 
It  DEAR  Sir— The  song  prefiiedt  Mary 
rison  "]  is  oue  of  mj  juvenile  works     I 


I.,  Google 


TO  MRS.  BURNS. 


leave  it  in  your  henda.  I  do  not  think  it 
\erj  remarkable,  dther  for  its  lacrita-  or 
demeritB.  It  a  im^sibU  (at  least.  I  foel  it 
ED  in  mjr  stinted  powers)  to  be  tiitya 
otiKinal,  entertaining,  and  witty. 
Wliat  ia  become  of  tbe  lial^  &c.,  of  yonr 


sliall  be  out  of  all  wmper  with 
d  bye.    I  have  always  looked  on 

the    priuce  of  indolent  eorres- 
and  I'alued  myaelf  occordirii^ly ; 
not,  can  not.  l»ar  liJslship  from 
ay  body  eUe.                     K.  B. 

BURNS  TO  MR  THO^[S0N. 

JW«reA,  1793, 

WANDERING  WILLIE. 

TO  MISS  BENSOM. 

Heke  awa,  there  awa.  minderins  Willie, 
Now  tired    with  wandering,   baud    aw« 

Damfriea,  March  2ltl,  1793. 

Come  to  niy  bosom,  my  ane  only  dearie. 
And  tell  me  thou  hriugs't  me  my  Willia 
Ihesame. 

Loud  1>1e«  the  eauld  wintet  winds  it  out 

,      „  olil   telloi 

re  the  Bood,  is  this,  in  particmlar— thi 
n  they  met  with  anybody  after  their  ow 
't,  they  had  a  charming  long  prosgiect  o( 
ly,  many  happy  meetings  with  tli"  "  " 


On  the  other 
series  belonging 


etemaUy  comes  the  wretch  upon  you, 
will  not  allow  your  indignation  or  conte 


down  out  thoughts; 

jidl 

make  no  dou 

that  he 

s  perfectly  acq 

d  with  mv  Sf 

timenta 

respectins  Mis 

Benson:  how  mu 

1  admin 

d  h«  abilities 

andva 

uedherwon 

and  how  very  fortunat 

Itbo 

asht  myself 

ainlance.    Jo 

kit  reason. 

deu'Xdam,  !  must 

am  no  hopes 

the  vet 

great  pleasure 

otm 

^iog  with  J 

■"Z. 

HamUton  tells 

meth 

at  ahe  a  ae 

ng  a  packet  (o  you,  and  I  beg  leave  to  send 


'e  the  honour  to  he, , 


IS  the  blast  brought  the  i 


But,  dyii^,  beiieve  that  my  Willie's  my 

I  leave  it  to  yon,  my  dear  Sir,  to  deter- 
nine  whether  the  ahove,  or  the  old"Thttf 
he  lang  muir"  (133),  be  the  beat. 


MR.  THOMSON  TO  BURNS.  (14^ 
Edmhurgh,  April  2(!,  1703. 

I  viLL  not  recognise  the  title  you  giva 
yoiLTself,  "  tite  prince  of  iadateat  correspon- 
dents ; "  but  if  tile  adjective  were  taken 
away,  1  think  the  title  would  then  lit  yoa 
esactly.  It  gives  me  pleasure  to  find  you 
can  furnish  auecilotea  with  respect  to  ouMt 


Ho,t,db,  Google 


398  CORRESPONDENCE  OP  I 

of  the  songs ;  these  will  ie  a  litetaty 


whkh,  I  believe,  wiU  hi 


'hiiA  I  propose  giving, 
better  lukpted  ti   "'  " 


npoD  everything  else  relating  to  the  work. 

Fleyel  has  lately  sent  me  a  number  of  th 
■oDga,  with  his  symphonies  and  accompani 
ments  added  to  them.  I  nbh  yoa  ner 
hwe,  that  I  raisht  serve  up  some  of  them  ti 


with  yc 


«,,  by  .1 


.a 

four 
rski 

than  Peter's, 
"Here  awa,  Wil 
alterations    to    b 
e  and  I  have  h» 

ie»il 
hetn 
The 

sngjgest  what  is 
fit  mweh.  (150) 
gentleman  I  ha 

for  youi  perusal.  (151) 


The  first  Unea  of  "The  laat  time  I  coma 
er  the  moor,"  and  several  other  lines  in  it; 
B  beautiful ;  but,  in  my  opinion — pardon 

iworthy  of  (he  divine  air.  I  shall  try  to 
eke  or  mend.  "  For  ever,  fortune,  wilt 
ou  Drove,"  is  a  charming  song ;  but 
and  Logan  braes "  is  sweetly 
feeptible  of   rural  imagery ;  I'll  try  that 


and,  if  I 
among  the  English 


0  much  delightful 
fancy  in  the  symphonies,  and  such  a  ileUcate 
■implioty  ui  the  accompanimei 
indeed  beyond  all  praise. 

I  am  very  much  pleased  with  the  several 
last  prodnclions  of  your  muse :  your  "  Lord 


f  the  old  song!  of  "Logan  Water"  (for  I 
now  a  good  many  different  ones)  which  I 
binii  pretty:— 

"  Now  my  dear  M  maun  ftce  his  laea. 
Far,  far  frae  me  and  Logan  btaes." 

'  My  PntLe  is  a  lover  gay,"  is  nnequaL 


itiful  a 


ntioned,  t 

d  and  poetics! 
19  volunteered 
y  written  four 
is  own  desire,  I  eeud 


nuddy,"  ia 


"Tlien  I'll  resign  and  marry  Pate, 

And  syne  my  cocketnouy — " 

Tliis  is  surely  far  unworthy  of  Bam! 


nuddy  el 


Fears  foc'm 
Welcome  now 


id  welcome   my 
ly  Willie  to  me. 


wild  storms,  in  I 
'onr  dread  howling 


to  my  enjoyments.    What  with  my  early 
Bttaehment  to  ballads,  your  book,  &c.,  ballad, 
makmg  is  now  as  completely  my  hobby- 
horse as  ever  tortiheatiou  was  Uncle  Toby'" 
■o  III  e'en  canter  it  away  till  I  come  to  t 
limit  of  my  race— God  grant  that  I  m 
take  the  right  side  of  the  whining  posti 
and  then  cheerfully  lookuig  back  on   t 
honest  folks  with  whom  I  have  be«i  happy, 
I  shall  say  or  sing, "  Sae  merry  as  we  a'  hae 
been  1 "  and,  raising  my  bst  looks  to  the 
whole  human  race,  the  last  words  of  the 
voice  of"  Coila"  (153)  shall  be,  "Good  night, 
and  joy  be  wi'  you  s' !  "    So  much  for  my 


;  a  lover  alarms '. 
leii,  yc  breeaes !  roll  gently,  ye  billows  I 
d  w  aft  my  dear  laddie  aoce  toair  to  my 

oh,  if  he's  feithless,  and  mmds  nae  hi! 
Ma.iuie,  [mami 

iw  still  between  us,  thou  wide-roariug 


song,  "  Rigs  of  Barley, 
,  does  not  altogether  pl< 
1  mend  it,  and  thrash  a 


one  of  Ran 
valued  frien< 


Bay's  best  songs;  but  there 


ideration.  lu  Sir  John  Sinclair's 
think,  from  Aberdeenahir^  and  the  otbiv 


Ho,t,db,  Google 


TO  JOHN  Ht^lNCIS  ERSKINE,   ESa 


397 


out  togeilier,  his  loxdibip  aid  Allau  paaaed  a 

callej  "  Patie's  mill,"  where  a  boniiie  lasi 
was^'te^din^  hay,  barelwadeil  oti  tlie  greeii.'* 
My  lord  obaerted  to  Allan,  that  it  would  be 
a  iiue  tbeme  for  a  ioag.  HamsBy  took  the 
biut,  and,  lingering  behind,  lie    oom|iosed 

"  One  day  I  heard  Mary  say,"  is  a  fine 
song;  but,  for  consisteiiey's  sidLe,  alter  the 
nama  "Adonis,"  Were  there  ever  sucli 
banns  published,  as  a  pnrpoae  of  marriage 
between  Adonis  and  Maryi  I  a^ee  nilb 
you  that  my  aong, "  There's  nought  but  care 
on  every  hand,"  ia  much  snpehor  to  "  Puif- 
titb  cauld."  The  original  song,  -ITie  mill, 
mill,  O!"  tbonjih  BMellent,  is,  ou  account 

tide,  and  think  a  Scottish  soii^  'vould  suit 
the  notes  best ;  and  let  vonr  cbuseii  son;;, 
^'hich  is  very  pretty,  follow  as  an  Eii^liah 
set.  "  The  banks  of  the  Dee,"  ia,  you  know, 
literally  "Lanfrnlee,"  to  slo*  time.  The 
song  is  well  enough,  but  has  some  false 


;n  the  first  plact 


xfron 


lecond  pkee,  there 
seen  or  hearfl  on  the  banlia  of  the  X>ee, 
1  the  banka  of  any  other  riter  in  SuoC- 
.  Exotic  rural  imagery  is  always  cam- 
tiveiy  flat.    If  I  eould  hi 


"The  i 


birds  1 


myself  honestly  aiov.  that  I  thin 


collectioi 


and  pathetic  song,  ia,  in  my  opinion, 
complete;  but  not  so  your  comic  ui 
Where  are  " Tullochgonim,"  "Lumps 
puddin,"  "Tibbie  Fowler,"  and  sevi 
others,  which,  in  my  humble  judgment, 
well  worthy  of  presenation  ?  ITiere  is  a 
one  sentimental  song  of  mino  in  the  i 
■eum,  which  never  was  kuown  oat  of 


immediate  neigh  hourbood,  until  I  ^ot  it 
taken  down  from  a  country  airl's  singing. 
It  ia  called  "  Cragieburn  wood,"  and,  in  the 
opinion  of  Mr.  Clarke,  is  one  of  the  sweetest 
Scottish  Songs.  He  is  quite  an  enthusiast 
about  it;    and  I  would  take  his  taste  in 


Iiish.    "S 
think  of  I 


lendedcopy  for  you,  if  yon 


TO  PATRICK  MILLER,  Eso, 

Dumfries,  Apnl.  1793. 
3iH— )fy  pnems  having  just  eome  out  in 

accept  of  a  copy  ?  A  mart  of  my  groti. 
le  to  you,  as  a  gentleman  to  whose  good- 
is  I  have  been  much  iudcbteil;    of  m; 


for  jou  as  a  man,  whose  benevolence  of  he 

There  wu  a  time.  Sir,  when  I  was  yi 
dependent :  this  language  ((en  would  hi 
been  like  (he  vile  incense  of  fhittety— I  co 
not  have  used  it.  Now  that  that  conneii 
(156)  is  at  an  end,  do  me  the  honour 


TO  JOIIN  FRANCIS  ERSKINE  Esa, 

OP  MAB.    (157) 

Jhimjriea,  April  13tb,  1793. 

Sir — Degenerate  as  human  nature  ia  said 

to  be — and,  in  many  instances,  warthleaa  aul 


Ho,t,db,  Google 


COREESPONDESCE  OF  BUENS. 


A  that,  nheteTer  might  be  m 


B  eyes  of  auperior  being",  m 


a   dittaut    obscuri 


ail  bupes  of  my  gettiDg  olSciiklly  forwaid 


hordibood  of  mind  had 
provoked  the  arbilrsry  wB»tonneu  of  power. 
My  much  eateemed  friend,  Mr,  Riddel  of  i 
Oleoriddel,  baa  jaat  read  me  a  pan^apb  of 
letter  be  had  from  jau.  Accept,  Sir,  of  t1 
ailenc  throb  of  gruiitude;  foe  woidi  would    . 


You  lit 


lofmyao 


ly  final 


:>ie  Eidie;  1  am  atill 

.  liiit  (br  the  eiertions  of  i 

■!u=t  be  knov 


of  na 


uidependent 


itty— « 


,/*«n™° 


.  Mr. 

tneroua  friend — I 
liout  ao  much  as  a  heating-, 
pre'Tious  intiiuBtion.  beeu  tnmed 
ith  my  helplesa  flimilj,  to  ^1  the 
if  nant.  Had  I  had  any  other 
irnbably  I  might  have  aaved  them 
LijB  LTuuhle  of  a  diamisaioii;  hut  tiie  httle 
money  1  gained  by  publication,  ia  my  all 


•lightesl 
idrift,  V 


wife  and  family,  haire 
pointed  out  aa  the  eligible,  and,  situated  aa  I 
was,  the  only  eligible,  line  of  life  tor  me,  mjr 
present  occupation.  Still,  my  honest  fame  ii 
my  dearest  concern ;  and  a  thousand  timei 
have  1  trembled  at  the  idea  of  those  de- 
gtadbig  epitheta  that  malice  or  mitrepresenta. 
" "'    ' name.    I  have  often,  in 


icipation 


lefuti 


only  brotlier,  who,  though  o 


>f  the 


abjured  the 
h^pineia  in 


irigiual  principlea,  eiperienoe 


hackney  scribbler,  with  the  heatj  malice  of 
aavage  atiipidity,  einltiug  iu  ^ia  liireling 
paragraphs — "Burns,  notwithaCandin^  tbe 
faufutonade  of  iudependeuce  to  be  fbunil  in 
is  works,  and  afiei  having  been  held  forth 
1  pnhlic  view,  and  to  public  eaCimatiou,  as  a 
lan  of  aome  genius,  yet,  quite  deatituce  of 
»ouii:es  within  himself  to  support  hia  hor. 
iwed  liigiiity,  he  diriniUed  into  a  paltry  ei- 
seman,  and  slmik  out  the  real  of  hia 
isi^ificant  exiatcuce  in  themeaneat  of  pnr- 
lira,  and  among  the  vilest  of  mankind," 


in  a  department,  however  humble,  immedi- 
ately iu  the  hands  of  people  in  fower,  1  liad 
forborne  takUig  anj  active  ^art,  either  per- 
eoiially  or  sa  an  author,  in  the  present 
buainesi  of  ketoru.  But  that,  where  I 
must  dedare  my  o 


alanJeroiis  falsehoods.  Burns  was  a  poor 
from  birth,  and  an  eiaseman  by  neces- 
;  but— /wifiaay  it  [—the  sterling  uf  his 
•M  worth  00  poverty  could  debase ;  and 
independent  Briti^  mind,  oppression 
Have 


jt  I,  t 


a  more  piecloua  stake  ii 


listed  a 


Tuplmi 


ilry's  we  fare,  than  tl 


and  the  ie|,i 
tativa  parL:  of  the  legislature,  which  boded 
no  good  to  our  glurioua  conbi'ITuTIIih, 
and  which  every  patriotic  Briton  must  msh 
to  see  amended.    Some  sudi  sentunents  as  ' 


remark  gai 
•tructedto 


Si-aham,  which  he  laid  before  i 
Urge,  where,  it  aeem=,  my  li 
ire^t  olfence;  and  one  of  < 
meral,  a  Mr.  Corbet,  was 
|uiie  on  the  spot,  and  to  doi 
at  toy  businesa  was  to  act,  i 


the  bodies  of  i 

them  the  birth 
lendent  Bi 

lis-'ari's  blood  si 
defend  it ! 


1  sea  already,  have  hn 
LATES.    Can  i  look  ti 


Ho,t,db,  Google 


TO  MR.  THOJISON. 


a  my  faumble    station 


dn*la  as  I  that  a  nation  hsa  to  teat,  both 
for  the  haiid  of  support  end  the  eye  of  iii- 
telligeHoe.    The  uiiiiifonned  mob  nmy  swell 


s  perasal,  pleats  to  ooiomil  it  la  tlie  flames. 

iDiuly  intecedted  yourulf,  1  have  tiete,  ill  his 
native  culoun, draivn  mite  ia;  but  should 
any  of  the  people  in  whose  huiik  is  the 
Tery  bread  he  eats,  get  the  le»st  knowledge 
of  the  pictuie,  if  would  raia  the  poor  bard 
Jbre^l 

My  poems  having  jast  come  out  in  another 
ediiiou,  1  beg  leave  to  preseut  you  «ith  a 
copy,  as  a  srnall  mark  of  that  hi;;h  esEcein 
and  ardent  gratitude  with  vbidi  1  have  the 
honour  to  be.  Sir,  your  deeply  iodcbted 
kud  evei  devoted  bumble  aervaut,      B.  B. 


Ma  THOMSON  TO  BUBNi 

Edaiburgh,  April,  1793. 
I  KEioTcs  to  liitd,  my  dear  8it,  that 
ballod-making  eoutioues  to  be  your  hobby, 
horse.  Great  pity  'twould  he  were  it  other, 
vise.  1  hope  you  will  amble  it  away  for 
mauy  a  year,  and  "  witch  the  world  with 
joui  horsemaualiip." 

I  know  tliere  are  a  good  many  Uvely 


tlie  Ust  se 


eye.    "  My  Patie  is  a  lover  gay,"  though  i 

httle unequal  ' ~—'  — ' '-    ' 

8ong,  and  I 


,t  and  voiu  former  tc 


y  desultory  way,  of  saying  whai 


you  may  alter  to 

"Bvaw,  brsw  lads  on  Yarrow  braan, 
Ye  wander,"  &c 
My  song,   "  Here  awa,  there  awa,"  aa 
amended  by  Mr.  Erskiue,  I  entirely  approve 
of,  and  return  yon.  (laBJ 

Give  me  leave  to  critidse  your  taste  in  the 

only  thing  iu  nlileh  it  is,  in  my  ojiuiiou, 

reprelieiisible.    You  know  I  oi^ht  to  know 

ithing  of  my  own  trade.    Of  pathos, 

m»it    aitd  point,  you  are  a  complete 


Kan 


isay,a^ 


with 


^mut  approve  of  taking  si 

lO  author  as  Mr.  W.  propuiwa  uon^;  mm 
'  The  last  time  I  cbdie  o'er  the  moor."  Let 
I  poet,  it  he  chooses,  take  up  the  idea  of 
inother,  and  work  it  mto  a  piece  of  hii 
iwn ;  hut  to  mangle  the  wot^  of  the  poor 
jard,  whose  tuneful  tongue  is  now  mute  for 


know  Mr.  W.  well,  ami  esteem 
let  him  mend  the  song,  as  tb 
mended  his  gun — he  gave  it  a 
new  lock,  ^da  new  barrel. 
I  do  not,  by  this,  object  t< 


n  1^  the  eunie  libert 


not  sure  if  w. 

with  "Cora  rigs  are  honnie."  Perhaps  i 
might  want  the  last  slausa.  end  be  the 
better  for  it.  "Cauld  kail  in  Aberdeen," 
you  must  leave  with  me  yet  a  while.  I  have 
vowed  to  have  a  song  to  that  air,  on  the 
lady  whom  1  attemptcil  to  celebrate  in  the 
verses,  "Puirtith  ciuld  and  restless  love.' 
At  any  rate,  my  other  song,  "  Green  grow 
the  rashes,"  will  never  suit.  That  song  i> 
current  in  Scotland  under  the  old  title,  and 
to  the  merty  old  tune  of  that  name,  which. 


Ho,t,db,  Google 


COEKESPOSDENCE  OF  I 


of  conrse,  wnnld  mar  the  pix^tess  of  jou 
song  to  celehrity.  Your  book  will  be  (h 
Btaudaril  of  Scots  son^a  tor  tUe  future;  Ic 
this  idea  ever  keep  your  judgment  on  tb 


iieinpt  to  tDDlie  it  Scots  si 


for 

and  Int  Ramsay's  ie  the 

EnsUsh  set. 

Yoa  shall  hoar  from  me  soon. 

Wheu  yon 

S" 

to  I/indon  on  this  bostiiesa.  can  yon 

,e  by  Dumfries?    I  have 

MS 

Scots  aiia  bj  me,  which  I 

have  picked 

"P. 

J""VLy'^feBaa'°n:^'"Tfl^ 

ot  country 

lasi 

learned  lugs  {161)   would  perhaps  he  dja- 

p!e 

se,l  ttith  tlie  very  featnro 

for  which  I 

bke 

them.    I  a.U  them  simple 

yon  would 

ounce  them  silly.    Do  joa 

air 

called  "Jackie   emoe's  Latoent?"     I 

erit  to  that 

I'll  enclose  you  both  (he  aoiiK  aud 

,  as    I    had  chem    ready 

to  send  to 

Joh 

nson's  Museum.  (!62)    I  s. 

aid  you  lilie- 

L    down    from    vind    t 


BURNS  TO  MR.  THOMSON.  (164) 
[Ilerf  the  poet   iiaerls  the  SOMff,  bet/ia 


I    tluU    1 


xdiui, 


April,  1793. 
Mt  DEAR  StR — I  bad  scarcely  pnt  my 
last  letter  into  the  post  ofilee,  when  I  took 
up  the  subject  of  "  ITie  last  time  I  came  o'er 
the  moor,"  and,  ere  I  slept,  drew  the  oiulhies 
of  the  foregoing.  How  far  I  have  succeoled, 
I  lesTe  on  this,  as  on  every  other  occasion, 
to  you  to  decide. 


I  superb  work ; 


ter  Mr.  Pleyel  does,  lei 
a  of  the  ori)^al  Scottish 
ong  ilepittment,  but  let 
c  preserve  ils  native 
I  own,  frequently  ivild 
Che  more  modem  rules : 


ntricity,  perhaps,  de- 


THOMSON  TO  BUENS. 
EdMurgh,  AprU  26W,  1793. 
thank  you,  my  dear  Sir,  for 
your  last  two  letters,  and  the  SOD;;s  which 
accompanied  them.  I  am  always  both  in- 
structed and  euterCaiiieil  by  your  observa- 
tions ;  and  the  frankness  mtb  which  yon 
i]w&k  oat  yonr  mind,  ia  to  me  liighly  b^ 


able,    it  is 


!ry  possible  I  may  ni 


10  the 


true  idea  of  aimplicit;  in  composition. 

confess  there  are  several  songs,  of  Allan 

Ramsay's  for  eiample,  that  I  think  silly 

reraaul  than   I   have    been  with    country 
people,    Tould    perhaps    call    suuple    and 

nature  will  not  please  ^neraily,  if  copied 
precisely  as  they  are.    The  poet,  like  tha 


d  and  tuurch  lines  of  the  lirst  verse 

he  music.  Pleyel  does  not  alter  a 
ote  of  tlie  songs,  lliat  would  be 
iudeed!  H'ich  the  airs  which  be 
ei  into  the  sonatas,  I  allov  him  to 
Ji  liberties  as  he  pleases;  but  tliai 

I  wish  yon  would  do  as  yoa.  pro. 
ith  your  "Ki'?  of  Barley,"    Jf  the 

au  air  for  it;  but  as  to  this  thei«  is 


Ho,t,db,  Google 


TO  MKS 

s  tie  nesreat  Bay  (jmbiUmii 


er  in  my 

Lved*  but  then — they 
were  original  Euatter  —  spurt-ttway  ! — tig, 
here,  lag,  there — as  it  the  ilevil,  thot  my 
grannie  (an  old  vonian,  indeed)  often  (old 
me,  tode  on  will-o'-wisp,  or.  iu  iiet  more 
elassio  phrase,  Spunkie,  were  looking  over 
my  elbow.  Happy  thought  that  idea  has 
engendered  ill  my  liead!  Sfunkie,  Ihoa 
•lialt  henceforth  be  my  aymhol,  aignatore, 
aiid  tutelary  genius !  lite  thee,  hop-step- 
and-loup,  her&awo-tliete-awtt,  hi^ledy-p^- 
gledy,  pcil-mdl,  hither-and-yoiit,  rani-stam, 
happy-^-luoky,    up   tails-s'-by-the-light-o'. 


I  wilderness  of  a  life  of 


It  by 


and  at  my  own  light ;  and  if  ni^y  opaque- 
BDuled  lubber  of  mankind  complain  thu  m; 
elfin,  lambent,  gbmnierons  wanderings  liave 
misled  his  stupid  atcps  over  precipiees  or 
into  bc^s,  let  the  thick-headed  Blnndec- 
huss  recollect  that  he  b  not  SpuNKie; — 

Sponkie's  nanderingJ  could  not  copied 
Amid  these  perils  none  durst  wallt  but  he. 


caught. 


,t  toe  i 


Dm  blockheads,  by  mere  dint  of  hand- 
tins  books,  grow  io  wisa  that  even  they 
themselves  are  equally  convinced  of,  and 
surprised  at  their  own  parts  ?  I  once  carried 
this  philosophy  to  that  degree,  tliat  in  a 
knot  of  country  folks  who  had  a  library 
among$t  them,  and  who,  to  the  honour  of 
their  good  sense,  made  me  factotum  in  the 
bnsiuess,— one  of  onr  members,  aHttle,wiae- 
lookiug,  squat,  upright,  ji^beriug  body  of  a 
tador,  I  advised  him,  instead  of  turning  ovet 
tiie  leaves,  to  biad  the  book  on  kia  back, 
Johnnie  took  the  hint,  tai  as  our  meetings 
were  every  fourth  Saturday,  and  Pricklouse 

uid,  of  course,  another  in  returning,  Itodkii 
was  sure  to  lay  his  hand  on  some  heavy 
quarto  or  ponderous  folio,  with,  and  under 


which,  wrapt  in  his  grey  plaid,  he  grew  wise, 
as  he  grew  weary,  all  the  way  home.  He 
carrieil  this  so  fer,  that  an  old  musty  Hebrew 

a  neighbouring  priest,  by  mere  dint  of  ap- 
plying it,  as  doctors  do  a  blistering  plaster, 
between  his  sbouhlen.  Stitch,  in  a  doien 
pilgrimages,  acquired  as  much  rational  tliei>- 
logy  as  the  said  priest  had  done  by  forty 


TO  5IISS  KENNEDY. 
BIadah — Permit  me  to  present  jou  with 
the  enclosed  song,  as  a  small  Ihoi^h  gratefnl 
tribute  for  the  honour  of  your  aequaintancii. 
I  have,  m  these  verse*,  attempted  some  faint 
aketclies  of  your  portrdt  in  tho  unembd- 
lished,  simple  roanuer  o(  descriptive  tbdth. 
Flattery  1  lean;  to  your  i/>vek8,  whose 
exaggfja^ng  ^ncies  may  make  them  imagine 
you  still  uearer  perfection  than  yon  radlf 

Poets,  Madam,  of  all  mankind,  feel  most 
forcibly  the  powers  of  beaittv  ;  as,  if  Ihiy 
are  really  roasn  of  nature's  making,  their 
feelings  must  he  flner,  and  their  taste  more 
delicate,  than  most  of  the  world.    In  (he 


his  species.  Eveu  the  sight  of  a  fine  flona, 
or  the  company  of  a  fine  woman  (by  far  the 
finest  part  of  Glad's  works  below),  have  sea* 
sations  for  the  poetic  heart  that  the  hrbd 


count,  Madam,  I  «n,   a 

s  in   many  olbw 

tilings,  indebted  to  Mr.  Hamilton'a  bindueas 

iu  introducing  me  to  you. 

Your  lovera  may 

view  you  with  a  wish,  I 

look  on  you  wiU. 

pleasure;    their  hearts. 

may  glow  with  desire,  rail 

e  rises  with  adn^ 

That  the  arrows  of  ro 

sfottune,  however 

they  should,  as  iuddent  t 

humanity,  glance 

alight  wound,  may  neve 

-that  the  snares  of  vlllai 

y  may  never  beset 

you  in  the  road  of  Ufe- 

may  hand  you  by  the  pa 

h   of  HONOUR  to 

a  the  smecre  wisb 

of  him  who  baa  the  hon 

Ho,t,db,  Google 


CORRESrONDESCE  OF  I 


BURNS  TO  MR.  THOMSON. 

June,  179; 

■When  1  tell  you,  my  ileor  Sir,  tha 


I  ontiot  Bllcr  the  disputed  lines 
"Mill,  Mill,  Or(ieo)  Whatjoni 
delect,  I  e: 


e  bow  doctors  differ. 


piee«  toe,  th 


which,  I  temembet,  a  grand- 
used  to  eiug,  hy  the  name  i 

plays  it  slow,  and  with  ui  ei 
quite  chatms  me,    1  became  a 


ere  £iu-n>  insn-ls  the  cono  "  Blslhe  lae  I 
:  ahciuld  wish  to  hear  hov  this  plesaei 


NO     CCLXXUl 

BURNS  TO  MR.  THOJISON 

Ju,, 

S5(4,  17 

Havb  you  ever,  my  dear 
IxjaQin  teady  to  bural  with 
readiTig  of  those  raiKbly  vilLd 
kingdom    flipiiiisl    kingdom, 
vinces,  and  lay  nations  was 

Sit,  felt 

"^^wbo" 
desokic 

a  melody  probably  had  its  otipo 
B    plaiiitiie    indignation    of  some 


I  of  Bonie  public  dest 


of  an  bout's  mediiB 


'■  We  1011)7,  "  ioiyon  Brora."] 
t  the  tuilowiii^  beautiful 
B  Witiietipooii's  collection 


Aia—"H«shie  Grai™..' 
"Oh  gin  my  love  were  yon  red  i 
That  gtow!  upon  the  caatle  i 
And  I  inyael'  a  drop  o'  dew. 


I'd  f^asC  Du 

Seal'd  on  her  s 

'IHU  fley'd  an 


This  thought 
and  quite,  so  fitr  u  1  kuan. 


,■  hghtl" 
isibly  beautiful  J 


altogetl 


B  you  gave  it  a  place. 


After  balancing  niyself  for  a  musing 
five  niuiuies,  on  the  hind-legs  of  my  elbow- 
chair,  1  produced  the  following. 

The  veraea  are  far  iuferiot  to  the  fore- 
going, 1  trsidtly  confess ;  but  if  worthy  of 
insertion  at  all,  they  mij^ht  be  first  in  place ; 
is  CTcry  poet  who  knows  (my  thing  of  his 
tra'le,  <vil1  husband  his  best  thoughts  for  a 
coucludins  struke. 

Oh  were  my  love  yon  lilac  fjlr. 


By  autumn  niliand  winter  rude! 
When  youihfu'  May  its  bloom  tencwed. 


MB,  THOMSON  TO  BURNS. 
Monday,  My  It',  1795 
extremely  so 


d  happai  to  u 


BVKSa  TO  MR.  THOMSON. 


The  first  boot  of  Bonita,  jiisc  publiahi 
will  be  dispalohed  to  you  olong  wiih  tl 
Let  me  be  favoured  with  yout  opiuLon  of 
froDkly  and  irecly. 

I  shall  cenunlr  giiB  >  place  to  the  so 

it  is  quite  enchuitiiig.  Praj',  will  you  recucn 
the  lut  of  aongs,  «ith  such  aira  added  to  it 
u  you  think  ought  to  be  iucluded?    l^e 

gentlemen  who  ori^ally  agreed  to  join  the 
epecalation  having  requeaiHt  to  be  off.  No 
matter,  a  loaet  1  cannot  be.    Hie  supeiior 


Thi 


Che 


collection,  please  return  it, 
may  keep,  es  1  remember  it. 
[Hire  follows  lie  soaj  0/  "  Bonnie  Jmh."] 
t  have  some  thoughti  of  insetting  in 
_.._  ..i._  jij  ^^  notes,  the  names  at 
le  tliemea  of  my  aon^-  1 
;  name  at  full ;    but  daahes 


compensated  for  my  labour,  by  the  pleasi 
I  shall  receive  from  tlie  music.  I  cam 
eipreas  how  much  i  am  obliged  to  you  1 
the  eiquisite  nen  songs  yon  are  sendi 
me;    but  thanks,  my  ftlcnd,  are  a    poor 

be  heneStcd  by  the  publici 
suffer  me  to  euclose  a  ami 
gratiiude  (IflS),  t 


«  I  fii 
it,  tor,  by  Heavei 


'"ito'not 


puhli 


,  which, « 


er  your  a 


BURNS  TO  MR,  THOMSON. 

Ml/.  179^ 
I  ASSURE  you,  ray  de^r  Sir,  that    yon 
Hly  hurt  me  with  yonr  pecuniary  parcel. 
:  de^dea  me  in  my  own  eyes.     However, 

lit.  as  to  any  more  traffic  of  that  debtor 
id  creditor  kind,  I  swear  by  that  Honoub 


o  be  respectable  and  inieresting. 
Wedsetdny  Mana 
I  thank  you  tor  your  delicate  additional    ' 
Tcrses  to  the  old  fra^eut,  and  for  your 
excellent  song  ta  "Logau  Water :"— Thom- 
son's truly  elegant  one  will  ft^low  for  the 
English  singer.    Your  apostrophe  to  stales-    ' 
men  is  admiraijle,  but  I  "        -    •   -  ■ 


BURNS  TO  MK.  TllOJISON. 

J»lS  and,  1793. 


cler  for  gene  os  ty  tf  sentiment  and 

e  any  of  lua  wants  which    the  cold 
Img  ore  can  supply  — at  least,  I  will 

Bnk  you  for  mv  copy  of  your  publica- 
'  '   a    behold  in  any 

^ably  wtiii 


lei^. 


lefuti 


le  you  aay  too 
I  progress  ol 


the  three  sti 


lutological,  or  perhapa  coo- 
rers  o"  the  Forest,"  is  eliarminjf 
but,  though  out  of  your  rule, 
1  the   smiling  if  fortune  be- 


Hoifdb,  Google 


COERESPOSDESCE  OP  BUSNS. 


lody    ( 


L    Edjnbui^h. 


Mrs,  Cockbur  ,  „  ,       , 

from  Roxbunchshite,  (.167)    What  a  clana- 
iag  iiKietrDplte  is 

"Oh  fictle  fortune,  nhj  this  cruel  sporting, 
Wliy,  whj  torment  us,  poor  sons  of  a  dsj  l" 
The  old  liallnil,  "I  wish  I  were  where 
Helen  lies,"  is  silly,  to  contemptibiHty,  My 
altemtion  of  it,  in  Johnson's,  is  not  luucli 
better.  Mr.  I^nkerton,  in  his,  nhat  he  calls, 
ancient  bnllads  (many  of  tbem  nototiuiis. 
though  beautiful  enough,  forgeries),  has  the 


Dd,  iuscead  of  speaking  to  the  mind,  or 
onobiiig  tbe  heart,  they  cloy  upon  the  ear, 

Your  bollsd,  ■'  'Hicre  was  a  Ti»a,  and  aho 
fas  fair,"  is  simple  and  beautiful,  aud  shall, 
ndoubtedly  grace  my  collection. 


0     ilAUOnTEHS    0 


brother  of  the  quill.  ' 
your  character  and  fain 
tried,  for  sges  to  com 
Jury  of  the  Sons  ah 
Taste — all   whoio   pt 

Behig  a  hard  of  nati 


ted  by  the  spirit  to  fottell  and 
t  your  greaC-^rand-child  will  ht 
ir  volumes,  and  say.  nith  honest 


BURNS  TO  MR.  THOMSON. 

Ausual.  1793. 
Mt  Dkar  TnoMaoN— I  hold  the  pen 
for  our  friend  CkiSie,   who   at  present   is 
studymg  tr 


e  Georgium  Sidi 


He  sends  you  sii  of  the  rimdeau  subjects, 

Confound  your  long  stairs ! 

8,  Claukb. 


MR.  THOMSON  TO  BURNS. 

Eilinbiirnh,  August  III,  1793. 
Deae  Sir— I  had  the  pleasure  of  receiving 
your  last  two  letters,  and  am  happy  to  find 
you  are  quite  pleased  with  the  appearance  of 
the  first  book  When  you  come  to  hear  tlie 
■oi^s  sung  and  accompanied,  you  nill  be 
duraied  with  theni. 


BURNS  TO  MR.  THOMSON. 

Auguti.  1793. 
Your  objection,  my  dear  Sir.  to  the  paa- 


I  have  tried  my  hand  on  "  Robin  Adair," 
snd,  you  vtU  probably   think,  with  little 


match  h( 


"Cauld  kAil  in  Ab^eei , 
me  in  tbia  ane  night,"  and  several  of  the  liv. 
lier  Mrs,  wail  the  muse's  leisure;  theses 
pecnliarly  worthy  of  her  choice  gifts;  bcsidt 
you'U  notice,  that  in  airs  of  this  sort  tl 
singer  can  always  do  greater  justice  to  tl 
poet,  than  in  the  slower  aita  of  "The  buE 
aboon  Tta^uaJr,"  "  Lord  Gregory,"  and  the    1 


anythuig  better  tc 
[HcreJbUiiw 


Hosted  by  Google 


BURNS  TO  ME.   THOMSON. 
[  shall  be  pleased,  a: 


MR.  THOMSON  TO  BUKN8, 

Augatl,  1793. 

Mt  Good  Sib — I  consider  it  one  of  the 

moat  agreeable  citcnmstanceB  atltriiing  this 

tmhlicalion  of  mine,  that  it  has  procured  me 

i-vBlued  epistles.    Pray 

bo  St.  StephcD 


>o  many  of  yo 


ibr  the  tunes  1  tell  him  I  edmit  the  jusctiess 
of  bi)  complaint  on  my  Btaitcaae,  conveyed 
in  his  laconic  postacn^it  to  your  Jen  d'esprit, 
which  I  perused  more  than  once,  nithont 
discovering  eiaialy  whether  yonr  discussion 

■BgDcious  friend,  acquainted  with  the  con- 
Tivial  habits  of  the  poet  end  the  nmsician, 
offered  me  o  bet  of  two  to  oneyoa  were  just 
drowning  care  together ;  that  an  empty 
bowl  was  the  only  thing  that  would  deeply 
■ffect  you,  and  the  only  niattet  you  could 
then  study  haw  to  remedy  [ 

1  shall  bo  [;[ad  to  see  you  gire  "Robin 
Adair"  a  Scottish  dress.    Peter  is  furnisi 
him  with  an  English  suit  for 
you  ore  well  matched  togetht 
19  excellent,  thongh  he  certainly  has  an  ot 


"":s 


1  plOfTiiei 


Iw 


vould 


longer  he  excluded  from  good  cc 

^r.  Alhui  has  made  an  inimit 

ftoni  yonr  "  John  Anderson,  m; 


pie  are  seated  by  the  fireside.    Mrs. 
on,iu  great  piod  hunionr,  is  dappmg 


ollects  the  pleasant  d 
would  da  honour  ti 


BURNS  TO  MR.  THOMSON. 

A«'jml,  17 

That 

Adair,"  h. 

more,  Tl 
unforlnnal 
nn.ghsm's 


I  tunc,  "Robin 
bead,  and  I  suc- 
mpt,  that  1  have 


Sir,  will  remember  an 
ir  worthy  friend  Cun- 
lich  happened  about 
nucu  j^ma  Bgu.  mat  aimck  my  thncj,  and 
I  endeavoured  to  do  the  idea  justice  *■ 
foUons ; — 

[ffers  foltom  ••Had  I  a  Ctow."] 
By  the  way,  !  havo  met  with  a  mnsical 


Highlander  in 
well  remembs 


readalbane's  Fenablea,  w 


This 


mother  singing  Gaelie 
coin  "  luioin  Adair"  aiul  "  Grama- 
They  certainly  have  more  of  the 

jau  Itisb  taste  in  them. 

man   comes  from    the  vinnity  of 

wiih  Ireland  that  could  brine  them ;  eicept, 
what  1  shrewdly  suspect  to  be  the  c^se,  the 
wandering  minstrels,  harpers  and  pipers, 
used  to  go  frequently  emuit  through  the 
wilds  both  of  Scotland  and  Ireland,  and  so 
some  favourite  au's  might  be  common  to  both. 
A  case  in  point — they  have  lately,  in  Ireland, 
p^ibtiahed  an  Irish  air.  as  tliey  say,  called 
"Caun  du  delis."  The  fact  is,  in  a  publication 
of  Corn's,  a  great  while  ago,  you  will  find 
the  same  air,  called  a  Highland  one,  with  a 
Gaelic  song  set  to  it.  Its  name  there,  I 
think,  is  "OranCiaoil,"  and  aSneairitia. 
Do  ask  honest  Allan,  or  tlie  Bev.  Caelia 


BURNS  TO  MR  TUOMSON. 


My   Pbab    Sir—"  1st  t 
ight."l 


n  this 


re  plea!ed  with  my  song,  "  Had  I  a  C'svc," 
HC,  »s  1  Hkcd  it  myself. 

t  walked  ont  yesterday  evening  with  » 
rolume  of  the  Museum  in  my  hand,  ivhen, 

shall  the  muse  repeat,"  Sia.,  aa  the  words 
ippeared  to  me  rather  n  " 


hat,  I  I 


ccting  tliat  it  is  on  your 
cd  under  the  shade  of  an 


Hosted  by  Google 


4M 

oldt]ioni,tin  I  wrole  one  to  EuiC  the  measure. 
1  may  ba  wrong;  but  I  ttiink  it  ia  not  in  mj 
worst  style.  Yon  must  know,  tliat  in  Rani- 
eoy's  Tea-table,  wliere  tbe  modem  aoug  first 
wpeared,  llie  ancient  name  of  the  tune, 
Allan  says,  a  "  Mm  Water,"  or  "  My  love 
Annie's  very  bonnie."  This  last  luis  cer- 
tainly  been  a  Mae  of  the  original  song ;  ao  I 
took  op  the  idea,  and,  as  you  will  see,  have 
introduced  tbe  line  in  its  flace,  Bhich  I 
presume  it  formerly  occupied;  thmigh  I  like, 
wise  give  yon  a  choosing  line,  if  it  should 
not  hit  tbe  cut  of  your  fuicy  i 

[IlenfiUtui^  "By  AJlau  siresm  I chtan^d 

Eugliah  verws. 
God  bless  you  I 


BURNS  TO  MR.  THOMSON. 

Aiujiit,  1793, 
S  "Whistle  anil  I'll  eome  to  you,  my 


begged  them  of  me,  as  he  admires  the  air 
mucli ;  but  as  1  nndi'tstand  that  he  looks 
mtb  rather  an  evil  eye  on  your  work,  1  did 
not  choose  tn  comply.  However,  if  tbe  soil;; 
does  not  jnit  your  raale,  I  may  possibly  send 
it  him.    llie  sec  of  the  air  which  i  had  in 


Another  favourite  air  of  mine  is,  "T 
miiekin'  o'  Geordie'a  byre."  When  sui 
■lov,  with  espression,  I  have  viaUed  that 
bad  had  better  poetry ;  that  I  have  endt 


's  the  song  "Adovjn  windm 


flame  of  his.  Site  is  a  Miss  Fhillis  M'llurdo, 
lister  to  "Bonnie  Jean."  Tliey  are  both 
pupils  of  Wa.  Ton  shail  hear  from  me,  the 
vety  £rtt  grist  1  get  from  my  rhj^uiug-milL 


OP  BUSNS. 

BORNa  TO   MR.   THOMSON. 

^ajHif,  1793. 
Thai  tune,"Cauld  kail,"  is  such  a  favo- 

yesterdayfor  gloamin-shot  at  the  muses  (I6g)i 
when  the  ninse  that  presides  o'er  the  shores 
of  Nith,  or  rather  my  old  inspiring  dearest 
nymph,  Coila,  whispered  me  the  following. 
1  have  two  reasons  for  thinking  that  it  wai 
my  early,  sweet,  Mmple  inspirer  that  was  by 
my  elbow, "  smooth  gUdmg  without  step." 
~  id  pouring  tbe  song  on  my  glowing  fancy;— 


ice  I  left  Coil 
It  of  a 


to  cheer  her  solitary  musin 

gs,  by  catching 

Im 

rethmiaBspecI 

tliat  she  has  folloived  m 

bit 

er,  or,  at  least. 

isiM 

secondly,  tbs 

last  stanza  of  this  soug 

d  you,  is  in  tbe 

very  words  tliat  Coila  t 

ugl. 

me  many  years 

ago.  and  which  I  set  to 

d  Scots  real  m 

[HertJMlttim«C<me 

letmelaietha:-) 

ItjoBthmktheahov 

m 

suit  your  idea 

of  your  favourite    sir. 

I  s 

.all  be    highly 

pleased.    "The  last  limo  1 

came  o'er  the 

moor"  I  cannot  meddle 

it;  and  tbe  musical  Bor 

dha 

ve  been  so  king 

vords,    that    a 

dilTerent  song,  though 

PO! 

ively  superior. 

would  not  be  so  well 

■ed.    I  am  not 

fund  of  choruses  to  so 

<S^. 

so  I  have  not 

BURNS  TO  MR.  THOJISON.  (169) 


N.B.  In  the  Mas' 


TO    MISS    CRAIK.    (170) 

D«mfri^,,Au^sl,  1795. 
Madam — Some  rather  unlooked-for  acci- 
lents  have  prevented  ray  doing  myself  tbe 


Ho,t,db,  Google 


honour  of  s  second  vis 
vaa  BO  hoapilab]^  inviti 
metmt  to  hate  done, 
to  have    tliat    plcasm 


TO  LADY  GLENCURS^. 
to  AtbigUml 


■omo  hind  of  return  tor  the  pleasure  I  ha 
received  in  peiuaing  a  certain  MS.  vohnne 

To  repay  one  with  an  old  tons,  it  a  proi-^rh^ 
whose  force,  you,  Madam.  1  know,  will 

u,  I  heliev^    eqnnlly  true  of  a  talent 
poetry — none  ever  despised  it  who  had  i 
(euaious  to  it.    The  fates  and  chatacieri  of 
the  rhjmii^  tribe  often  employ  m  j  thou^hta 
when  1  am  disposed  to  be  melancholy.  There 
ia  not,  among  ail  the  mariyrologies  ehaC 

the  lives  of  the  poets.    Tn  the  comparative 

they  are  doomed  to  suffer,  but  how  they 
■re  formed  to  bear.  Take  a  bnng  of  our 
kiiid,  giie  him  a  attouger  ima^naiion  and 

them  will  ever  engender  a  more  ungovera- 

of  man ;  implimt  iu  him  au  itresistible  ini' 
pulse  to  some  idle  vi^ry,  such  aa  Brrangiug 
wild  flou'ers  ia  fojitastiuri  nosegays,  tradn» 
tile  grassbapper  to  bis  haunt  by  his  chirp- 
ing song,  Bstching  the  frisks  of  (he  little 
minnona  in  the  sunny  pool,  or  bunting  after 
the  intrigues  of  bulterilies--in  short,  send 

eternally  mislead  liiiii  from  the  paths  of 
lucre,  and  yet  curae  liLni  uith  a  keener 
relish  than  any  man  living  for  the  pleasures 
that  bicre  can  purchase;  lastly,  till  up  the 
measure  of  his  woes  by  bestowing  on  him  a 
■puniing  aeasfl  of  his  own  di^ty — and  you 
have  created  t  night  neaily  as  miserable  as 
a  poet.  To  you.  Madam,  I  need  not  recoant 
the  biry  pleasures  the  muse  bestows,  to 
oonntcrhulBnce  thu  cBtal<^ue  of  evils.  Be- 
witching poetry  is  like  beiviiching  woman ; 
she  has,  in  all  ages,  been  accused  of  mislead- 


very  seasonably  to  his  aid,  amid  the  el: 
gloom  end  sinking  despondency  of  d 
nerves  and  Deceznber  weather.  Aa 
getting  the  toniily  of  Gleiicaim,  He 


"If  thee,  Jetuaalera,  I  forget. 

Skill  part  from  my  right  hand. 
My  tongue  to  my  mouth's  roof  let  deave^ 
if  I  do  thee  forget. 


r,  I  dan 


liable  to 


to  do  anything  im- 
luse  1  look  on  myaelf 
ladyship  and  family. 

have  the  honour  to 
great,  if  I 


le  coUDcils  of  wisdom  I 


involving  tt 


in  dlHiculiies,  baiting  them  witb  povert 
branding  them  with  infamy,  aud  plungii 
them  ill  the  whirKng  vortei  of  ruin ;  yi 
where  is  the  man  hut  must  own  that  all  oi 
happiness  on  earth  is  not  worthy  Che  iiarai- 
that  even  tlie  holy  hermit's  solitary  prospe 


impated  with  the  niany  pleasures,  the 
luieless  raptui«s,  that  ue  owe  to  the  lovely 
leen  of  the  heart  of  man  1  B.  B. 


Now  and  th  . 
hs  calkd  to  the  tables  of 
happen  to  meet  with  any  mi 
the  stately  stupidity  of  Klf-suEScient  squires, 
or  tlie  luxurious  insolence  of  upstart  nabobs, 
Iget  ahoie  the  creatnrea  by  calling  to  re- 
membrance that  I  am  patronised  by  the  noble 
bouse  of  Glencairu ;  and  at  gala-times,  such 
as  Ne«-yeaT>  day,  a  christenuig,  or  the  kim- 
night,  wlien  my  puiieh-bowl  is  brought  fton 
its  dusty  comet,  and  filled  up  in  honour  of 
the  occasion,  I  begm  mtii— The  CoiaUm  of 
Glcacairn!  My  good  woman,  with  llie  en- 
thusiasm of  a  grateful  heart,  neit  cries,  JUy 
Lord  I  and  so  the  toast  goes  on  until  I  end 


some  verses  I  have  lately  composed ;  and 
meant  to  have  sent  them  my  HreE  leisure 
hour,  and  acqoainted  you  with  my  late 
change  of  Ufe.  1  mentioned  to  my  lord  my 
fears  concerning  my  form,  'lliose  fears  were 
indeed  too  true ;  it  is  a  bargain  would  have 
mined  me,  but  for  the  luAy  circumstaruH 
of  my  liaving  an  E»nse  commissiou. 

People  may  talk  as  they  pleise  of  the  ig. 
nominy  of  the  Eiciae ;  £50  a  year  will  sup- 
port my  wife  and  cbiMren,  and  keep  me 
independent  of  the  world;    and   I  would 

borrowed  credit  from  me,  than  that  I  bor- 
rowed credit  from  my  professian.    Another 


Ho,t,db,  Google 


kDOwLedge  it  gives  me  of  tbe  various  shades 
of  homao  cliaracter,  toQeequentlj  assisting 
me  caatly  id  my  poetic  pursuits.  I  had  the 
most  ardent  entbnsiasni  for  elie  nmsea  whf 
nobody  knew  me  but  myaelf.siid  Uiat  ardoi 
=_  ,. .__,_^    K,j  nij.  Lofj 

a  haste  fi 
ing,  eli 
jeneroi 
D  of  a 


COEEESPONDENCE  OF  I1TIEN8. 


jeens  cooled,  if 
>  EDodness  has  ii 


Hie  press,  I  have  no  idea  of  publi 
I  certainbr  had  consulted  my  nobli 


E, 


c  after  ai 


and  snpportiog  toy  fami . .  . 
i  and  vifwfl  ate  directed  to 
:s,  I  un  aware  that,  though  1 
^lerfornmnees  to  the  world  supe- 
rior to  uiy  former  works ;  atill,  if  they  mere 
of  the  same  kind  iritb  those,  tbe  compata- 
tire  reception  they  would  meet  with,  would 
nottify  me.  I  htue  turned  my  thoBghls  on 
the  drama.  I  io  not  mesu  tbe  stately 
huBkin  of  the  tragic  muse. 

Does  not  your  kd,vship  think  that  sn 
Edinbnrgb  theatre  would  be  more  Dinuseil 
with  afieclaaou,  folly,  and  whno  of  true 
Seottisb  growth,  than  manners,  which  by  far 
the  greatest  part  of  tlie  audleuoe  can  only 
know  at  second  band?  I  bave  tbe  honour 
to  be,  your  ladyship's  ererdevotedandgrate- 
tol  humble  servaut,  H,  B. 


MR.    THOMSON    TO    BURNS. 
Ediiibargl/,  Sept.  isi,  1793. 

Ml  Dear  Sin— Since  writuig  jou  last,  I 
have  received  half  a  dozen  songs,  with  which 
1  am  delighted  beyond  expression.  The 
humonr  and  &iicy  of  "  Whistle,  and  I'll 
come  to  JOU,  my  lad,"  will  render  it  nearly 
aa  great  a  ^vonrile  as  "l>uncan  Gray." 
'Come,  let  me  take  thee  to  niy  btessC," 
■Adown  Mrinding  Nith,"  and  "By  Allan 
stream,"  &e,,  are  full  of  imagination  an^ 
'    ■■       -    1  sweetly    -■'  ---     ■-    '"  -■  ■■•■ 


theyar 
trilddi 


"Had 1 1 
bnr  friend 


I  think,  Ci 
latest  [posterity. 


r  be  broken ;  these  si 


n  long  as  genius,  taste,  aud  seusibility. 


o  propitious,  I 
Ust  of  all  the 
-^no  fewer  than 
burdetu^d  the 


most  of  the  rei 
le  English  poei 


BURNS    TO    MR.    THOMSON. 
Sept.,  1793. 
Tod  may  readily  tmst,  my  dear  Su-,  that 
ly  eietliou  io  my  power  is  hejrtily  at  your 


ba  yery  name  of  Fete 
lervicB  to  your  piiblici 
I'om  him  now  aud  tbei 


.asle  ate  merely  a  few  of  nature's  instiDCts, 
mlsoght  aud  untutored  by  art.  For  thii 
eason,  many  musical  cum]Hisitions,  particn- 
arly  where  much  of  the  merit  lies  ui  coun- 
«rpoiut,  however  they  may  transport  and 
^nsh  the  ears  of  you  connaisseurs.  alfect 


melodies,  wliich  theb 

as  silly  and  insipid.  1  do  not  Iniow  vtaeiber 
the  old  air,  "Hey  tuttie  taitie,"may  rank 
amnu' this  number;  but  well  I  knowtha^ 
with  Fraier's  hautboy,  it  has  often  filled  my 
eyes  with  teara.    There  is  a  tradition,  whidi 

that  it  was  RolKrt  JJruce's  match  at  the 
battle  of  Bauoockbum.  This  thought,  in 
my  solitary  wanderings,  warmed  me  to  a 
pitcli  of  enthusiagm  on  tlie  theme  of  liberty 
and  independence,  which  i  threw  into  a  kuid 
of  Scottish  ode,  titled  to  the  air,  tliat  one 
might  suppose  lo  be  the  gallant  Royal  Scot's 


Tune— /%  tattie  tailie. 
Scots,  whi  hae  wi'  WnUace  bled, 
Scots,  whom  Bruce  has  often  ki. 
Welcome  to  your  gory  bed. 
Or  to  vtetoi7 1 


Ho,t,db,  Google 


,  THOMSON  TO  BURRS, 


Wow's  the  day,  ond  non's  the  boat: 

Bee  the  front  o'  battle  lour : 

See  approach  proud  Edward's  power-^ 


Let  htm  turn  and  flee  I 
TVhs  for  Scotland's  king  .nd  Uw 
Freedom's  sb  ord  will  atronglj  draw, 
Preeman  stand,  or  freeman  fa'. 

Let  him  follow  me  I 
By  oppresaiou's  woes  and  jtaini. 

We  will  drain  our  dearest  veins, 

But  they  shall  be  free  I 

lay  the  proud  usurpers  loir  t 

lytuits  li^ll  in  erery  fue  1 

liberty's  in  every  blow ! — 
Ift  ui  do  oc  die ! 


>    did    1 


1  begged  n 


P.a.  I  showed  Che  I 
hiiilily  pleased  with 

m^Le  soft  verses  foru;  uul  ±  luui  uu  iu?» 
of  giving  myself  any  trouble  on  the  subject, 
till  the  accidental  Fecoltection  of  that  glorious 


^ated  n 


II  the  Museum, 
in  your  elegant 


BURNS  TO  MB.  THOMSON. 

Sept.  17B3. 

bepn  to  think  my  correspondence  is  perse- 
RUIion.  Noinatter,  Icau'tbelpit;  s  ballad 
19  my  hnbhy-hoise,  which,  though  otherwise 
a  simple  sort  of  harmless  idiotioil  beast 
euousb,  has  yet  this  blessed  headstrong 
property,  that  when  once  it  has  fiurly  made 
off  with  a  hapless  wight,  it  gets  so  enamoured 
with  the  tiiigle-giniriB,  tinsle-pagle  of  its 


The  following  song  I  hare  composed  tor 
'Oran-gaoil,"  the  Hij^hland  air,  thai,  you 

ive  a  place  to  in  your  book.    I  have  tills 


-Knot, 'tis  also  well  I 
lUere  folium  •' Behold  the  Hour."} 


MR.  ■niOMSON  TO  BURNS, 

Ediahursh,  Sepi.  5(1, 1793. 


re  sending 


le  grcoiest  modesty  is  the  su 


charmed  with  it 

suitable  air  for  ii 

pving  it  a  tune 

orgrandenr  as  "liey  luiEie  ULin 

you(  partiality  for  this  tone  m 

the  ideas  assoaated  in  your 


I  bate  been  nmuuig  orer 
deed  airs,  of  which  I  lately  se 
and  I  tbink  "  Lewie  Gordon" 
adapted  to  your  ode ;  at  Ici  , 
slight  variaCioQ  of  the  fourth  line,  which  I 
ahull  presently  submit  to  you.  There  is  iii 
"  Lewie  Gordon"  more  at  the  grand  than  the 
ptuintire,  particularly  when  it  is  sung  with  a 
d^rree  of  spirit,  which  your  words  would 
oblige  the  «nger  to  give  it.  I  would  have 
no  scruple  about  substituting  your  ode  iu 
the  room  of  "Lewie  Oordoit."  which  has 
neither  the  mterest,  the  grandeur,  nor  the 


happily 


'  suggest  upon  the  last 


line  of  each  verse,  tb     ... 

tlie  air  is  as  fallows  ;— 

Verse  lat.  Or  to  gloriana  rictory, 

2nd,  Chaim — chains  and  slavery. 

3rd,  Let  him,  itl  hm  turn  and  fle& 


Hoaoin,  Google 


410 


COESESPONDEKCE  OF  BURNS. 


4th,  Let  him  briwely  follow  me. 

Stli,  But  tlteji  ahull,  they  shall  be  hee. 

6th,  Let  us,  let  ut  do  or  die  I 
If  jou  coiineeC  eaeh  line  vitb  its  ovn 
Ters^  I  do  not  think  jou  Bill  find  that 
rather  the  sentiment  or  tiie  eipression  loses 
any  of  its  energy.  The  only  liue  vhich  I 
n  the  whole  song  is,  "Welcome         ' 


IT  gory  bed."    Would  not 


le  [irderahle  t 
sgree  tc 


lother 


In  your  ne^t 

0  be  infonned  uliethec  you 

[  hava  proposed.    Tiie  little 

dierationa  I  submit  with  the  greatest  defer- 

The  beauty  of  the  verses  you  have  made 
for  "  Urau-!;Jioil"  will  ensure  celebrity  (o  the 

BUEN3  TO  MR,  TUUiMSON. 

I  HAVB  received  yonr  list,  my  di 
■n^)  here  go  my  obsenatious  on  it.  ( 

"Domi  the  Bnrn  Uavie."     I  htt 
monieut  tried  an  alteration,  leacicg 
last  half  of  tlie  third  stunaa,  and  1 
hilf  of  the  last  stanza.  (Iius ; — 
As  down  the  bum  they  took  their  wi 

And  thro'  tlje  flowery  dale ; 
His  cheek  to  Iters  he  aft  did  lay, 

Aud  love  was  aye  the  tale. 
Tl'ith  "Mary,  when  shall  we  return. 


Quoth  Marv,  "  Love  1  like  Ibe  bum. 
And  aye  shall  follow  you."  (174) 
"  Thro'  the  wood  laddie" — I  am  decidedly 
of  opinion,  that,  both  in  this,  and  "lliere'll 
never  be  peace  till  Jamie  comes  hame,"  the 
second  or  lii^h  part  of  the  tune  being  a 
lepetitiou  of  the  lirst  part  an  octave  higiter, 
it  only  for  iusirutnental  music,  and  would  be 
much  better  omitted  in  singing. 

"  Cowden-kuowes."      Bemember  in  your 
index  tliot  the  sung  in  pure  J^igii^h  to  this 
tnne,  begininug, 
Wheni 


respondent  to  my  idea 


i'hich  is  generally  the  ir 


I  retire  to  the  solitary  fireside  of  my 

;  swinging  at  inletrals  on  the  hind- 
_^  of  my  elbow  chair,  by  way  of  calling 
forth  mj  own  critical  strictures  as  my  pen 


ini-ariably  my  way. 
What  cursed  egotism  I 
"  Gill  Morice"  I  am  for 

a  plaguy  length;    tha  ai 


avingout.   It  is 
1  be  supplied  by 


ivood"  and  "Boy's  wife,"  Tha  first,  beside 
Its  intrinsic  meat,  has  novelty ;  and  the  last 

I  hos  higli  merit,  as  well  as  great  celebrity.  I 
have  the  ori^nid  words  of  a  song  for  tha 

i  last  air,  in  the  handwriting  of  the  My  who 
com|)oied  il ;  and  they  are  superior  to  any 
edition  of  the  song  which  the  pubbc  has  yet 

"  Highland-taddie."      The    old    set    will 


taili 


which  pleases  m 


»  called 


tawdry  aoug  of  that  name.  You  will 
it  in  the  Museum,  "  1  liae  bean  at 
ueden,"  &c,    I  wotdd  advise  you,  in 

this  musicnl  quandary,  to  olter  up    your 

prayers  to  the  musea  for  inspiring  dbection ; 
'  'n  the  meantime,  waiting  for  this  direo 
bestow  a  libation  to  Bacchus ;   and 

is  not  a  doubt  but  you  will  hit  on  a 

judidous  choice,    Frobatnta  est. 


Ouaker's  iif 
Ulytlie  1 


plac 


"Tlia 


■    of  the 
and,  besides. 


ively  the  m 


t  beautiful,  lovely  «■ 
.    as  I  purpose  giving  yo 

\  some  future  edition  of 
work,  perhaps  half  a  century  hence, 
must  certainly  include  "Tha  bonniest  h 


coUectiou. 


Hoifdb,  Google 


BURNS  TO  MR.  THOMSO:*. 


"  Dainty  Davie"  I  liare  licord  sung  nine- 
teen thousand  niue  huuiired  and  ninety-nine 
limea,  and  always  with  the  c1iorU9  to  the 
low  part  of  the  tuue ;  and  uatbtng  has 
Burpriaed  me  so  much  ai  your  opinion  ou 
this  subject.  If  it  will  not  suit  aa  1  pro- 
posed, we  will  lay  tiro  of  Ihe  sCauias 
together,  and  Clieo  make  the  chorua  folhiw. 
H,  fether:"  I  enclose  you  Fraser's 


a  iMgiij^  of  despair 


set  of  this  1 
fiict,  be  maliea 


it  half  tt 


gives  it  in  playuig, 

minbly  pathetic  song.    I  do  not  give  these 

vetsea  6n  any  merit  they  have.   I  composed 

mitber  died— that  was,  about  the  back  o' 
midnight ;"  aud  by  tbe  lee-side  of  a  buwl 
of  punch,  which  hail  overset  every  mof  tal  in 
company  except  the  hautbuia  aod  Ihe  muse, 
[ffere  fin<™  "  Tl-ou  heal  Ufi  ml  euec."] 
"  Joekie  aod  Jenny"  I  would  i!i»card,  and 


tively  th 


(Cfyplca^ 


and  ill  tlie  avdmh 


t  try  It 


ong  of  n 


Museum,  "Ye  banks  and  braes  o'  boniiii 
Doon,"  One  song  more,  and  1  have  done 
"Auld  lang  syne.  The  ail  is  but  mediocre 
hut  tbe  fijlowing  song,  the  old  song  of  tin 


tbe  fijlowing  song 


[H.T,th 


4uld  lai 


is  eniHi^ 
J^-e."] 


Now,  i  suppose,  I  have  tired  your  patienca 
&irly.  Yon  must,  after  all  is  over,  have  a 
number  of  ballads,  properly  90  called.  "Gill 
Morice,"  "Tranent  Muir,"  " Maephersou'a 
farewell,"  "  Battla  of  Shetitt-miiir,"  or,  "  We 
ran,  aud  they  nu"  (I  know  the  author  o( 
this  cliarming  ballad.  Bud  his  history), 
" Hardiknutti"   "Barbara    AUaii"    (1    cau 


1  of  tl 


any 


that  has  yet 

appeared);  a 

d  besides 

do  JOB 

know  that 

really  have 

wbicli,"nie 

cherry  aud  the  slae"  was  sunjt, 

and  which  is 

mentioned  as 

a  well-tn 

in  "Scotlaui 

s  Complaint, 

a  book  p 

blislied 

Mary's  day 

P     It  w, 

s    then 

called,  "Tlie  banks  o'   Helicon;" 

an  ohi 

poem  which  Pinkertonha 

brought 

to  light 

You  will  se 

aU  thU  in  Tytler'i  H 

story  o( 

Scottish  Mn 

sic    Thetnn 

,  to  a  teamed  ear. 

may  have  n 

great  merit 

but  it  is 

a  great 

curiosity. 

h±ve   a    go 

d    many 

original 

things  of  tb 

s  kind. 

menial  ballad. 
"Saw  ye  my  father?"   is 

ming  senti- 

BUKxs  ax>  JIH,  Tfio.ysoN-. 

ne  of  my 

SsptemlKr,  1793. 

ereaiest  favourites.      The  evening    beftire 
tst,  I  wandered  out,  aud  began  a  tender 

I  AH  happy,  my  dear  Sir,  that  my  ode 
pleases  you  so  much.    Your  idea,  "  honour's 

BOiig,  in  what  I  think  it  its  nat 

■e  style.    I 

bed,"  is.  tliough  a  beautiful,  a  hadiueyed 

must  premise,  that  the  old  way,  and  the  way 

idea :  so,  if  you  please,  we  will  let  the  line 
stand  as  it  is.    I  have  altered  the  aong  a* 

to  give  most  effect,  is  to  base 

note,  as  the  fiddlers  call  it.  but 

0  burst  at 

follows  :- 

onee  into  the  pathoi    Every 

iountry  girl 

unp  "Saw  ye  my  fttber?"  &c. 
My  song  is  but  jast  begun;  a 

nd I  should 

BANNOCKBOBN. 

bite,  before  I  proceed,  to  know  y 

our  opinion 

of  it.    I  haxe  sprinkled  it  with 

he  Scottish 

dialect,  but  it  may  be  easily 

umed  into 

Scots,  wtui  hae  wi'  Wallace  bled. 

correct  Engliah.  (178) 

Scots,  wham  Jjruce  has  aftcn  led. 

"TodUu  heme."    Urbani  m 

ntioned  an 

Welcome  to  your  gory  bed  t 

Now's  the  day,  and  how's  the  hour; 

See  apprOBiA  proud  Edward's  power  I 
Edward  1  chains  and  sbvery. 

Wlia  will  be  a  tr^tor  knave  ? 

Wha  can  fill  a  coward's  grave  P 

Whasaebaseasheaslave? 
Traitor  I  toward  I  turn,  and  fleet 


Ho,t,db,  Google 


COERESPOKDRNCE   OF  BUUX3. 


Will  for  Scatlanil' j  kin;  and  lair 
Freedom's  aword  will  strongly  dcuff, 
Trpiujian  slsnd.  ot  freeman  fe', 
Sodget!  herot  onwi'met 

By  oppression's  woes  and  pain.  I 
By  your  sons  in  senile  chains  I 
We  mil  drain  one  deareat  veins. 
But  they  sliidl  be— shall  be  freel 

lay  the  proud  usurpers  low  1 
TjTSnts  bU  in  every  foe  [ 
Liberty's  in  every  blow  t 


I  stall  edition  i 


A.  false  U! 


And  liberty  returns 
A  couplet  worthy  of 
jou  had  enough  of  my  o 
post  Koes,  and  my  *" 
One  comfort  I  I  suffer  so  mucu,  jusi  uo«,  in 
Cnis  world,  for  la^t  night's  joviahty,  that  I 
sliall  Ejcape  scot-free  for  it  ju  the  world  to 


head  sches  rr 


inison  vith  my  o^ 


ality  of  tl 


well 


respecting  the 
but  (here  is 


IB  ot  them  we  ditfe 
no  disputing  about  hohhy-horsea.  i  sbalt 
not  fail  to  profit  by  the  remarks  yon  make, 
uid  to  re-consider  the  whole  with  attention. 
"Dainty  Davie"  must  he  snng,  two  stanzas 
ti^etlier.  and  then  the  chorus;  'tis  the 
proper  way.  I  agree  with  yon,  that  there 
may  he  something  of  pathos,  or  tenderoeas 
at  least,  in  the  air  of  "Fee  hhn,  bther," 
when  performed  with  feelmg ;  but  a  l«niier 
cast  may  be  given  almost  to  any  Uvely  air,  if 
yon  sing  it  very  slowly,  eipressively,  aad 
with  serious  words.  I  am,  faoweva,  clearly 
■nd  invariably  for  retaining  tlie  eheerfol 
tunes  Joined  to  their  own  humorous  verses, 
wherever  the  verses  are  passable.  But  the 
sweet  song  for  "Fee  him,  ftther,"  which 
you  began  about  the  back  of  midnight,  I 

Jama  Balfour,  the  kit^  ot  good  fellows. 


nd  the  best  singer  of  the  lively  Scottish 
lallads  that  ever  existed,  has  charmed  thoo- 
ands  of  corapaniea  with  "  Fee  him,  father," 


would  wish  to  discard.   "Fyl  let's  »' to  the 

that  I  think  it  tit  only  to  be  sung  in  a  com^ 
pany  of  drunken  colliers ;  and  "  Saw  ye  my 
^ther?"  appears  to  me  both  indelicate  uid 


liudi  and  to  tell  tl 


"WeleoT 


gory  bed,"  seems  rather  a  discouraging 
address,  notwithstanding  the  alternative 
which  follows.  I  have  shown  the  aoog  to 
three  friends  ot  eieellent  taste,  and  eadi  of 
them  objected  to  this  line,  which  emboldens 
me  (0  use  the  freedom  of  bringing  it  agtdu 

Now  prepare  for  honoar's  bed, 


BURNS  TO  ME.  THOMSON. 

September,  1793. 
'■  Who  shall  decide  when  doctors  disa- 
gree?"   My  ode  pleases  me  so  much  that  I 
cannot  alter  it.     Your  proposed  alteratioDB 

esoeedingly  obliged  to  you  for  piittuig  me 
on  reconsidering  it,  as,  I  thmt,  I  have  much 
improved  it.  Instead  of  "  sodger  I  hero  L  " 
1  will  have  it  "  Caledonian  I  on  wi'  me  I " 


t  hurt  It 


to  your  ti 


I  lisve  finished  my  song  to  "  Saw  ye  my 
father?"  and  in  English,  as  you  will  see. 
That  there  is  a  sylhdile  too  much  tor  the  ex- 
pression of  the  air,  is  true ;  hut,  allow  me  to 
say,  that  the  mere  dividing  of  a  dotted 
u^ilchet  into  a  crotchet  and  a  quaviT,  is  not 
a  great  matter ;  however,  in  that  I  bnve  no 
preteasioastocopeiujudgment  with  you.  Of 


Ho,t,db,  Google 


BUESS  TO  MS.   THOMSOS 
vith  conliJeiti 


ftepoehy L  .,. 

music  ia  a  biuini^s  where  I  bhiC  my  ideas 
nich  the  iitmost  dillidence. 

The  old  letMs  have  merit,  thoogh  un- 

the  ail  to  the  old  wordt.  aud  let  mine  follow 
B9  Ei^lish  lerses.    Hew  they  are  : — 
\JItrtfollom  the  loag  "  Where  are  iUjoss."] 


Adieu 


BURNS  TO  THOMSON. 

Seplemlfr,  170 
AVE  been  t^imii^  over  some  toIu 
igi,  to    find  verses  vthane  men 


[ffer 


or  "The  CoUier'a    doc 

■iiiffoldhaeuhaiial^ 

/olla«ji    "DelHded    HOflin, 


The  fiiulty  line  in  Logrni-Water,  I  mend 

fllUSi— 

"How  can  your  flinty  hei 
Tlie    song  oth^nrise  ivi 


■s  cryP' 


■Mlirt 


:,  with  a 


0   JOHtS, 


p.  181.  The  9D 

"  Saving  wiuda  aronud  her  bl 

Tour  Irish  aipB  are  pretty,  bi 

downriaht    Irish.     If  they    wej 


of  the 


like  t 


hough 


really  Irish,  yet  in  the  B  ,  ^ 

might  adopt  them.  Since  you  are  lo  food  of 
Irish  nluac,  what  say  yon  to  twenty-five  of 
them  ill  KD  aJilitional  nnmher?    We  could 

vili  take  care  tl^  yousliail  not  want  songs^ 
and  I  assure  yon  that  you  would  find  it  thn 
most  saleable  of  the  whole.  If  you  do  not 
approve  of  "  Boy's  wife,"  for  the  music's 
sake,  we  shall  not  insert  it.  "  Ceil  t^  the 
wars  "  ia  a  charming  song ;  so  is,  "  Saw  ye 
my  Peggy  f  "  "  There's  iiae  lucli  about  the 
hmise  "  well  deserves  a  place.  I  cannot  say 
tiiU  "  O'er  the  hills  and  far  awa  "  strikes  me 
ta  equal  as  yonr  sekctiou,    "'Ihis  ii  uamy 


I  like  it  much.  Your  Jaeohite  ain 
y,  and  there  are  miny  otliers  of  the 
id  pretty;  but  you  have  not  room 
.  Youcann[.t.Ithiiik,iu3ert"Py! 
0  the  bridal,"  to  any  otiier  worda 

pleases  me,  KS  shnple  and  ito^  dig. 
in  as  ludicrous  and  low.  For  this 
Fyl  giemoraycoggic3iri,""Fyl 
)  the  bridal,"  with  several  others  of 
,  ate  to  mc  highly  pleashig ;  nhil^ 
my  father,  or  saw  ye  my  niotherf  " 
me  with  its  deseriptive  rimple 
Thus  my  song.  "  Ken  ye  what  Mej 
ill  has  gotten  ?"  pleases  myself  BO 


It  all  thisj  but  "ilka 


talsl 


YouTt  last  letter,  my  denr  Thomson,  was 
indeed  ladi'U  with  heavy  news.  Alaa,  poor 
Enkiuel  (178)  The  recollecrion  that  ha 
was  a  coadjutor  in  your  publication,  has,  till 
now.  scared  roe  from  writing  to  yon,  or 
turning  my  thoughts  on  composing  for  yon. 

I  am  pleased  that  you  are  reconciled  to 
the  air  of  the  "  Cluaker's  wifis ; "  though,  hy 
the  bye,  mold  HiKhland  gentlem-   "'  - 


and  known  by  the 
ch-as,"    The  foil.     ' 

[tfere  Jbtloioa  ■ 


'Thing 


«  I.  «ff  /aJttfld 


Your  objection  to  the  tUnglish  song  I  pro- 
posed for  "John  Anderson,  my  jo,"  is  ce> 
KUidy  just.  The  following  is  by  »a  old 
acquaintance  of  mine,  and  I  thiuk  bas  merit. 
The  aoug  was  never  in  print,  which  I  tliiuk 


II  your 


The  I 
10  much  the  more  m 


SONG.— By  GiviN   Tuknbull.  (179) 
"  Oh  condescend,  dear  eluirming  maid. 

My  wretched  state  to  view ; 
A  tenHer  awain  to  love  hetray'd, 

And  aad  despair,  by  you. 


Hoifdb,  Google 


COHItESFOKDEKCE  OP  BURNS. 


While  here,  b11  m 


I  heiird  of  lo'e,  sad  with  disdiUD 

Tiie  iirehin's  power  denied  ; 
I  tsii^-h'd  »l  every  loier's  iMtii, 

And  lUDck'd  CheiD  vheii  [hey  sigh'd. 
But  hon  my  alateia  aller'd  ( 

Thoae  happy  days  ere  o'er  j 
FordJ  thy  utiteleuiit^  hale, 

I  love  thee  moie  lad  more. 
Oh,  yield,  i) 


luty,  yieldr 
iu  (he  field. 


Let  jjeiietous  pity  wiirm  thee, 

My  wonted  jiesce  restore; 

And,  grateful,  I  shall  bleaa  tUee 


liy  the  bye,  Tunibiill  has  a  great  mi 


THE  NIGHTINGALE. 
-  Tliou  sweetest  miiiitrel  of  the  grav 
Awake  thy  tender  tale  of  love. 
For  though  the  muses  ilei^D  to  aid, 


AU  day,  wit 
Thnr  tales : 


faihion's  gajidy  sons. 


When  ere 

Begin,  sweet  bird,  thy 


of  her  (btsaieu  swain. 
ig  shades  obscure  the  sky, 


LAURA. 
'Let  me  wander  >ehere  I  will,  . 
it/  ahady  wood,  or  winding  rill; 


MR.  TIIO.MSON  TO  BURNa 

Nmenibsr  7a,  1793. 
My  Good  Sir — After  so  long  o  silence, 


he  appreheus  ve 


proceed   fom    tlat 


i-e  to  thank  you  for  your  Fnghah 
I  Le  ^er  n  choss  »h  ch  I  thmk 
ily  icDoil  al  hou„h  the  coloumg  u 
io  r  fnend  Mr  Tv  mb  la  amigs 
ubtless  ca  s  de  sble  n  ent  and  aa 
imma  d  of  h  s  n  anuBcnpts 


nswer  a    ii.  !ri  a 
npcovided  (180) 


It  wiU 


TO  JOHN  M   IIRDO   Esa 

in  xf  es  Deerb      1  33 
ill— It  s  sa  d  that  «*  take  the  greatesl 
ties  w  th  our  grCKtest  ftieuds,  ud  | 


Hosted  by  Google 


pay  myself  a  very  high  o 


Ker'8 


r  Iu«e 


I  guinea! 


s,  I  don'I  owe  a  ahilUng  to  lai 

wonum  either.    But  for  these  d 

dog-ear'd  liltle  pB^s  <1B1),  S  had  done  mj 
Belf  the  honiiar  to  haie  naiCed  on  you  long 
ago.  Independent  of  the  ubligatbna  your 
hoBpiCahCy  baa  laid  me  under,  the  con- 
dousnesB  of  your  superiority  in  the  rank  of 
man  uid  geiittemau,  of  itself  was  fully  as 
much  as  I  could  ever  make  head  sg^nst ; 
but  to  owe  you  money  too,  was  more  than  1 
could  (ace. 

I  tliiiik  I  once  mentioned  sometliiag  of  a 
collectiou  of  Scots  njaga  i  have  foe  eoine 
yeara  been  making— I  send  you  a  peruaal  of 
vhat  1  have  got  togetlier.  I  could  not 
conveniently  apore  them  above  Ave  or  bie 
days,  and  five  or  six  glances  of  tliem  mil 
probably  more  than  eutHoe  you,      A  very 

tired  of  ihrm,  please  leave  them  with  Mr. 
Clint,  of  Che  King's  Arms.  There  ia  not 
another  copy  of  the  collection  in  the  world ; 
and  1  should  be  sorry  that  any  tiufortitnale 
negligence  should  ileprive  me  of  what  has 


TO  JOHN  M'.MURDO,  Ea*, 


country  with 


insioua  wish  to  be  hononpcil 
alance.  You  will  forgive  it 
pulse  of  heart-fell  respect 
■er  of  the  Scottish  cotuity 


s  lousing  ti 


, 'Sir.I 


m  the  int»ests  of  humanity 
e  dear,  and  as  a  patriot  to  whom  the 
^hta  of  your  country  are  sacred.' " 

oners  are  barely  able,  by  the  glimmering 
their  own  twilight  uuderstaudiuga,  to 
cawl  a  fraut,  and  when  lords  are  what 
mtlemcn  would  be  ashamed  to  be,  to 
lom    ahall    a    sinking   country   coll    fbr 


mentioned   to  you  a 

s    ode 

or 

g    I   had 

iately    c 

nd 

eh,  I  thin 

Allow 

udose  it. 

'wheuTftjT 

Ihyou 

at 

theMre,  1 

shall  be  glad 

have  y 

Accept  of  i 

Sir 

ery 

Dumfries,  1793. 
Will  Mr.  M'llurdo  do  me  the  favour  to 
accept  of  IliEje  volumes  (182) ;  a  iriBiug  but 
eincere  msxk  of  the  very  high  respect  1  bear 

gentleman,  and  hia   kindness  as  a  fdeud. 


uiid.    I  have  the  lionoui 


in  pretend,  I  t 


't  afterwards,  I  tt 
shall  e 


TO  CAPTAIN  — . — — .  (1S3] 
Dumfries,  December  5(A,  1793. 
Sir— Heated  as  1  was  with  wine  yesle 
night,  I  was  perhaps  rather  seemiugly  im- 


TO  MRS.  EIDDEI* 

M  thinking  to  send  my  "  Address  "  to 
periodical  publication,  but  it  has  not 
got  your  saucyoii,  so  pray  look  over  it. 

Va  to  the  Tueaday's  play,  let  me  beg  of 
you,  my  dear  Madam,  to  give  us  "Tba 
Wonder,  a  Woman  keeps  a  Secret ! "  to 
which  please  add,  "The  Spoilt  Child"— you 
will  highly  oblige  me  by  so  doing. 

There  now,  this  cursed,  gloomy,  blue-devil 
day,  you  are  going  to  a  party  of  cboico 


Hoifdb,  Google 


iia 


CORRESPONDENCE  OP   BURS8. 


To  p!ay  the  shapes 
Of  frolEe  fimcr.  Dud  incesiaat  form 
Those  tapid  iiictures^  assenihled  tjaaa 
Of  fleet  ideas,  never  joiii'd  before. 
Where  lively  vU  eicites  to  gay  snrpriae ! 
Or  Iblly-paiacing  liumoxr,  jp^ie  himself, 
Calls  laufhler  fiirth,   deep  Bblluilg    ever; 

But,  aa  yon  rejoiu  nith  ttieni  that  do 


SlADAu— You 
promise  me  to  h 
presence  oa  his 


ledged.     He  hiss  g 


srere  so  very  good  0!  to 
lour  my  frieud  with  your 
iiellt  ui^ht.    Ti)at  ni^ht 

niB  H'bv  to  Keep  Him." 
re  to  kiow  ill.  0.  »elL 
or  is  geiietally  acknow- 
mius  aud  worth  which 
>  patrouage:  he  is  a 
poor  aud  modest  maa ; — daims  which,  firom 
their  lery  sUnee  have  the  more  fordble 
poWM  on  the  generous  heart,  Alas,  for 
pity  I  that,  from  the  indoleoce  of  those  who 
haie  the  good  thinj^  of  this  life  m  their 
git^  too  often  dow  hrazeo-froiited  im- 
portiuiity  aiistch  that  boon,  the  riKhlfiit  due 
of  K^nng,  humble  saiiCi  Of  all  the 
quidities  we  aaago  to  th«  author  and 
director  of  Natni^  hy  In  the  most  euvjnble 
is,  to  be  able  "  to  wipe  away  all  teas  from 
all  eyes."  Oh  what  iuaignifleaut,  sordid 
wretches  are  tlity,  however  chance  may 
liave  loaded  them  with  wealth,  who  go  to 
their  graves,  to  Dlieit  magiiiliceiit  mowo- 
leumi,    with  liardly  the    consciousness    of 


peudent  of  my  enthusieem  as  a  Scotsman, 
hai-e  rarely  met  with  any  thiii^  in  h.stoi 

with  the  story  of  ISannocAutn.    On  the  on 
hand,  a  cruel  but  able  usurper,  leading  01 

last  spark  of  freedom  am 


greatiy-darii^ 

liaud,  the  dtsperate  relics  of  a  g^lant  nation, 
dcioting  themselves  to  rescue  their  bleeding 
country,  or  perish  with  her. 

prize  truly,  and  indw  " 


lOUghtl 


e.for 


.St  thou 


H>  dearly 


TO  CAPTAIN  MILLEIt 


Dear  Sir— The  following  ode  (1S7)  is  on 
regard  with  indiHerence.    Ob,  Ijherly, 
Thou  mat'st  the  gloomy  face  of  nature  gay, 
Qiv'st  beauty  to  the  sun,  and  pleaanie  lo 

It  does  me  so  much  good  to  meet  with  a 
man  whose  honest  bosom  iclowa  with  the 
daring  of 


liberty,  that  I  could  ni 


hich  I  really  tl 


of  my  o 


TO  THE  EAT 

t 

OF  BUCHAN. 

av  Loud— Wil 
lesent  you  with 

J 

,1 

mis^,  12tK  1734 
mr  lordship  allow 
enclosed  little  eo 

TO  MES,  KID  DEL 

Dbab  Madam — I  meant  to  have  called 

your  bos-door,  the  lirat  object  which  greeted 
my  view  was  one  of  those  lubster-coateJ 
puppies,  sittins  lite  another  dt^nin,  ^uardmK 
tlio  Hesperian  fruit.  On  the  co.iJitiona  and 
cBpiiuiatiuna  you  so  obligingly  ofet,  1  shall 
eeruuuly  make  my  veatlier-bealeii,  lostic 


Ho,t,db,  Google 


TO   MES.    RIDDEL. 


ooddeil.    Itghillbea 


Among  the  profusion  of  idle  compliments,  '  haye  •ny,  i)i 

incesasmly  offer  nt  yam  ahrine — a  ehrijpe, 
ho*  far  exilred  above  sucli  adoration — per. 


you  the  honest  tiibi 
an  independent  mii 
that  1  am,  thou  ir 


id, — and  to  assure  yon. 


TO  THE  SA.ME. 


Similiy  doses  a 


■bably  k 


me  em])loyed  nith  my  peu 
employment  for  a  poet's  peu !  'fliere  is  a 
species  of  the  human  genus  that  I  coll  the 
gia-iarse  elias;  what  flnciabte  do^  they  are! 
Roimd,  and  round,  and  round  tU^  go. 
Jf  undell's  os,  that  drives  his  cotton  mill,  is 
thiHt  CJact  prolotyne— without  nn  idea  or 
wish  beyond  tlieir  tircle— fat,  sledu  stupid, 
parent,  quiet  and  contented ;  wliile  here  I 

of  ftetfulnesa  and  niehiaehuly  i  uot  enough 


other  to   renose 
floumatiK  and  flut 


as  of  me  Ilie  Hebrew 

he  foretold- 

his  man  doll 

■er!"     Ifmj 

e  to  be  «bere  it  dare 


Pray  that  wisdom  and  bliss  h( 


TO  THE  SAME. 
E  this  moment  got  the  song  from 


Syme,  and  I  am  sorcy  bi  » 


was  at  Woodlee;  and  that  once  froze  the 
very  iife-blood  of  my  heart.  Your  reception 
of  me  was  such,  that  a  wretch  meeting  the 
eye  of  his  judge,  about  to  pronounce  sentence 
of  death  on  him,  could  only  have  envied  my 
feelings  and  situation.  But  I  hate  the 
theme,  and  never  more  shall  write  oc  speafc 

One  thing  I  shall  proudly  say,  that  I  can 
pay  Mrs,  li,  a  higher  tribute  of  esteem,  and 
appreciate  her  amiable  worth  more  truly, 
thaii  any  Jnan  whoia  I  have  seen  approaeh 


TO  THE  SAME. 

I  HATu  often  toM  you,  my  dear  friend, 
bat  yon  had  a  spice  of  caprice  in  your  com- 
losition.  and  you  have  asoltcn  disavowed  it; 
iven,  perhaps,  .ihile  you!  opinions  we«,  at 
he  moment,  irrefragahly  proving  it.  Could 
ati/lhiitg  estrange  mo  from  ■  frieiid  audi  a* 
'OIL?  No  I  To-morrow  1  shall  have  the 
lononr  of  waiting  on  you. 

Farewell,  thou  first  of  friends,  and  moat 
ecuniplislied  of  noaieu,  even  with  all  thy 


TO  THE  SAME. 


laa  forfeited  your 
St  lose  their  nhie. 
ea  come  only  fcon 


Ho,t,db,  Google 


4ia  COIUtESPOSDESCE  OF  BUEXS. 

find  cold  neKlecl,  »n_  contemptuoua  sconi^ 
is  a  wreiicn  that  my  heart  cui  ill  bear. 
It  is,  howeier.  some  kind  of  miaerable  gi>i>d 
luck,  that  while  dc  hast-eii-lea  risnut  loay 
depress  ail  uuotTendingn'rEtch  to  Che  i^rouiid, 
it  lias  >  tendencjr  to  rouse  a  stubborn  some- 
thing iu  hia  bosom,  ohich,  tboi^h  it  camiot 
heal  the  nximids  of  his  soul,  is  at  least  aa 
opiate  to  hlunc  their  poignsncy. 

With  the  ptpfoundesi  respect  for  yout 
abSitiesi  the  nioac  aiucere  esteem,  and  erileut 
regard  far  your  gt 


and  the  I 


juayer  for  your  welfiire,  peace,  and  bli 
ihaie  the  bonour  to  be.  Madam,  your 
udeyoCed  bumble  servant  It. 


KO.  OCOXL 

TO  JOHN  STMB,  Eaa.  (183) 
You  knon  that  among  other  hisjh  dignil 


^appeal  1  eiiclos 
posed  since  1  a: 
give  you  the  hi: 
Eno>,,  (hat  a.«oo, 

'Characters  aud  m 


raucli  tbat  I  admire 


rtble  woman.  Did  you  ever,  my  dear  Syiue, 
meet  with  a  man  aha  oved  more  to  the 
Diiiiie  Giver  of  all  good  tluugs  than  Slr.O? 
A  fine  fortune;  a  pleasing  eiterior;  self- 
evidentaniiuble  diapositioDS.and  aningcuuous, 
npright  mind,— and  lli»t  informed,  too,  much 
beyond  the  usual  run  of  yonng  feUows  of  bis 
lauk  and  fortune:  aad  to  all  ihia,  such  a. 
woman !— but  of  ber  I  ahall  say  nothing  at 
M,  in  despair  of  saying  anything  adequate : 
in  my  sonjt,  I  hate  endeavoured  to  do  justice 
to  what  nnuld  he  his  feelings,  on  Sfeuig,  in 
the  scene  1  have  drawn,  the  babitaiicii  of  his 
Incy.  Ab  I  am  a  good  deal  jileascd  with 
my  perfonnance,  I,  in  my  first  fervour, 
thonght  of  sending  it  to  Mrs.  Oswald,  but, 
on  aecond  thoushls,  perhaps  what  I  offer  as 
the  buiicst  incense  of  genuine  respect,  might, 
from  tlie  well-known  character  of  poverty 
and  poetry,  be  construed  into  some  modtfi- 
oition  or  other  oi  that  Bcrvility  which  my 
■ouiabluiu.  &.S. 


put  pen  to  paper  to  you,  is  painful.  Tho 
scenes  I  luive  passed  vith  the  friend  of  my 
Bonl,  and  his  amiable  conneiions !  the  wreuck 
at  my  heart  to  think  that  he  is  gone,  for 
ever  gone  from  me,  never  more  to  meet 
in  the  wanderings  of  a  weary  world!  and 
the  cutting  redec^on  of  all,  that  I  had  most 
unfortunaWly,  Uiougb  most  undesieriedly, 
lost  tliG  confidence  of  that  soul  of  worth,  ere 

These  iliSam,  are  senaationa  of  no  ordi- 

oH'endcd  with  some  impaled  improprieties  of 


I'o  oppose  those  pr^udicea  which  have 
heeu  ruj^d  a<^inat  mc,  is  not  the  bnsineaa 
of  this  letter.  Indeed,it  is  a  warfare  1  know 
not  how  to  wage.  The  powers  of  positive 
rice  I  eui  in   some  degree  calculate,  and 


giurd :  bnt  who  can  estimate  the  Muity  ot 
giddy  ennricc,  or  ward  oil  the  nnthinking 

1  have  afavourto  request  ot  you.  Madam; 
and  of  your  sister,  Mrs. ,  through  yone 


.  collection  of  all  ni 


a  veise  which  I  bad  e 


the  hate  of  thoie  who  "watch  for  my  halting," 

themselves,  be  gone  to  the  regions  of  oblivion 
—I  ant  uneasy  now  tor  the  fate  of  those 
mauusctipti.  Will  Mrs. hove  the  good- 
Asa  pledge  of  friendship  tliey  were  he^Cowcd  j 
mid  that  nrcimjstance,  indeed,  was  all  their 
meiit.  Most  nnhappily  for  me,  lliaC  merit 
they  no  longer  possess;  and  I  hope  that 
Sirs. 'a  goodness,  which  I  well  know, 


degree  of  esliin 

With  the  s' 

honour  (0  he.  I 


Ho,t,db,  Google 


MR.  THOMSON  TO  BURKS.  419 

the  trick  of  the  crafty  pkw  to  le«d  tha 


TO    MH-    CUNNINGHAM. 


thetu 


Felinwjy  2ati,  1794 

ipeok  pence  and  rest  to  a  soiil 
a  sea  of  troubles,  without  one  friendly 


jrrdj^oa,  B 


ru-beliD 


Cans 


rame,  tremblingly  altre  ■ 
85  of  suspense,  the  stability  and  hanli- 
'  'le  rock  that  hravea  (he  blast!  If 
thon  canst  not  da  tlie  least  of  these,  why 
nouldet  thou  disturb  me  in  my  miseries, 
with  thy  inquiries  after  tne  ? 

Tor  Iliese  '- "--  '  "- ■— - 


able  t( 


a  pen.    My  c 


:  ab  aria 


lasted  Kith  a  deep, 


slifire  in  the  ruin  of  these  cursed  times — 
loaaes  which,  though  trilling,  were  yet  sbaC 
1  could  ill  beat — dve  so  irritaiel  me,  that 
my  feelings  at  times  could  only  be  envied  by 
a  reprobate  spirit  listening  to  the  seutfiQce 
that  doDniB  it  to  perdition. 

Are  you  deep  in  the  language  of  consola^ 
lion  ?    I  have  exhausted  in  wSection  eiery 


urity.  whith  mankind  can 
ythiiig  of,  and  nith  which 
they  give  themselTes  much 
aid  I  quarrel  with  a  man  for 
iny  more  than  I  would  for 
musical  ear.  1  would  regret 
that  he  was  shut  out  from  abat,  to  m«  and 
to  others,  were  such  superlative  louiws  of 
enjoyment.  Ic  is  in  this  point  of  liew.  *nd 
for  this  reason,  that  1  will  deeply  imbue  tha 
mind  of  every  child  of  mine  Bith  religion. 

fet^h^g,  sentiment  and  ta9l«,  1  shall  thus  add 
largely  to  his  enjoyraenta.  Let  me  flatter 
myself,  that  this  sweet  little  fellow,  who  is 
juat  now  running  about  ray  desk,  «ill  be  a 
man  of  a  melting,  ardent,  glowing  heart,— 
and  an  imagination  del^hted  with  (he 
painter,  and  rapt  with  the  poet.  Let  me 
figure  him  vandeiini^  out  in  e.  sweet  evening, 
to  inliule  the  balmy  gales,  and  ei^oy  (lie 
growing  luiutiance  of  the  spring ;  himself 
the  while  in  tlie  hlooroiug  youth  of  life.  Ho 
looks  ahmad  on  all  nature  and  through 
nature  up  to  nature's  God.  His  soul,  by 
swift,  deli^^hting  degrees,  ia  rapt  above  this 
sublunary  sphere,  u-'-' '  ■       ■■     ■ 


until  he  a 


euibutu 


e  glori 


t   pr< 


0  mysel 


lange,  Almighty  FtUhet 


might  melt  and  mould  the  hearts  of  Ibo 
around  him,  but  his  own  kept  its  uati 
lucorrigibilty. 

Btill,  there  are  two  great  pillars  that  bear 

misery.  'llieotiiLiscompDsedDfthedfft 
modiflcHtinns  of  a  certain  nnhle,  stub 
(oroethiog  in  man,  known  by  the  ni 
df  courage,  forlituile,  magnanimity, 
OTnmt  is  made  up  of  tlioie  feelings  and 
timents,  which,  however  the  sceptic 
deny  them,  or  the  euthn»ast  disfigure  tl 
are  yet,  1  am  convinced,  original  and  campo- 
neut  parts  of  the  human  eool ;  those  ae 
ef  Ike  taiiid-'il  1  may  be  allowed  the  esp 
h,andlinkm 


that  charming  hymn.  Tliese  ar4 
pleasures,  they  are  fesl  ddighis; 
whaE  of  (lie  delights  among  the  st 
are  anperior,  not  (o  say  equal. 
And,  they  hare  this  precious,  vas 


a  forhef 


those  awful  obscure 

ful,  and  equally  beneftcent  Uod,  ani 

to  come,  beyond  death  and  the  gri 


all-pc 


nember,  my  dear  Cunningham, 

:  ever  talked  on  the  subject  of 

I  know  some  who  laugh  at 


MB,  THOMSON  TO  BURNS. 

EdMnrgh,  April  nth,  1794. 
R  Sib — Owing  to  the  distresi 


of  our  ftiend  tor  the  lo 


-.aogic 


till  lately,  of  pemsin;  it.  How  sonj  I 
am  to  find  Buina  aaying,  "  Canst  than  not 
niinister  to  a  mind  diKased  !  "  uhile  he  is 
ddi){hting  otben  from  one  eaJ  of  the  isliiid 
to  the  other,    like  the  hypochondriac  who 

"Go,"  Bays  the  doctor,  "and  aee  the  ftinous 
Carlini,  who  keeps  all  Faria  in  ){ood 
humour."  "  Alaa !  Sir,"  rej)hed  the  patient 
"  1  am  that  onliappy  Carlini ! " 

Your  plan  for  our  meeting  together 
pleases  me  greitly,  and  I  trust  that  hy  some 
meatia  or  othsr  it  will  aoon  take  place ;  but 
yonr  hacchanallanchallei^EB  almost  fright«u) 
me,  for  I  am  a  luisetable  «f»k  drinker ! 

Allan  is  mnch  gratified  hy  yonr  good 
opinion  of  hia  talents.  He  has  just  be;;sn  a 
rtetch  from  your  "  Cotter's  Saturday  NiEht," 
uid,  it  it  pleases  himself  iu  the  design, 
be  will  probably  etch  or  engrare  it  In 
eubjecls  of  the  pastoral  and  hunioroua 
kmd,  he  ia,  perhaps,  unrivalled  by  any  artist 
liring.  He  Stih  a  little  in  gi^ng  beauty 
and  grace  to  hia  femalea,  and  hia  colouring 
ia  sombre,  othermae  his  paintings  and 
drawings  would  be  iu  greater  requeat. 

I  like  the  muae  of  the  ■'  Sntor-a  dochler," 
and  will  consider  whether  it  shall  be  added 
to  the  taat  rolume ;  your  verses  to  it  are 
pietty  i    hut  youT  humorous  English 
to  suit  "Jo  Jauet,"  is  iniioitahi- 
Ihink  yoa  of  the  air,  "Withm  a  tiule 
Edutbur^?"    It  has  (tiways  struck  me 
a  modern  English  imitation,  but  it  ia  aaid 

Bltle  better  thaii  namby-pamby.     Do  )■ 


COEEESPOKDENCE  OF  BUIIKS. 

ir  my  part,  I  look  on  Mr.  Allan's  cIhhh 
Qy  taTOiirile  poem  for  his  aubject,  to  bi 


What 


BURNS   TO  MR.   THOMSON. 

Mffji,  1794. 

Mt  Dear  Sib — I  return  yon  (he  platea, 

with  which  I  am  highly  pleased;  I  would 

humbly  propose,   inatead  of   the  younker 

into  hia  hands.  A  friend  of  mine,  who  is 
poaitively  the  ablest  judge  on  the  aubject  I 
have  ever  met  with,  and  thoi^h  an  unknown, 
ia  yet  a  auperior  artist  with  the  burin.  IS 
quite  charmed  with  AUan's  manner.  I  got 
bun  a  peep  of  the  "  Gentle  Shepherd ;"  end 
he  prononiicea  Aliau  a  most  origiual  artist 
of  great  eicelleoce. 


and  bye.  I  got  an  air,  pretty  enough,  com- 
poaed  by  lady  Elisnheih  Heron,  of  Heron, 
which  she  caUa  "  The  banka  of  Cree."  Creo 
ia  a  beaul^ul  romantic  stream ;  and  as  her 
ladyship  ia  a  particular  friend  of  mine,  I  liare 
written  the  following  aong  to  it. 
[Herefellom  the  aoag  enlUled  ■■  The  Biaika 


TO  THE  E;VRL  O?  GLENCAIRN. 

11^:1. 1731. 

My  LOttD— When  jou  cast  your  eye  on 


on  the  title-page  of 
tlie  liuuour  to  send 
pieuaurable  feeling  tl 

to  you.    'liie  genei 


rour  lordahiii,  a 
IS  patronage  of  youj 


brother' 


»  found  a 

ohacuiity;  he  uttroduced  my  rustic  omse  to 
the  parhalily  of  my  country ;  and  to  him  I 
owe  all.  My  aeuse  c^  his  gDodness,  and  the 
ang:Dish  of  my  soul  at,  losing  my  truly  noble 
protectct  and  friend,  I  hai-e  endcavonied  to 
eii)reas  in  a  poem  to  h'a  memory,  which  I 
ivae  now  published.  Tlus  edition  is  just 
from  the  press ;  and  in  my  gratitude  to  the 
dead,  and  my  respect  for  the  hviog  (funa 
belies  you,  my  lord,  if  you  possess  not  the 
'■  -  '  toau,  which  waa  your  noble 
teristic  feature),  I  had  dea- 
cnieo  a  copy  lor  the  Earl  of  Qleucairo.  J 
learnt  Just  aov  that  you  are  in  town :  allow 

I  know,  my  lord,  such  is  the  lile,  venal 
contagion  which  pervadca  the  world  of  let- 
ters, that  professiims  of  respect  from  en 
author,  particularly  from  a  poet  to  a  lord, 
are  more  than  auapiciona.  I  claim,  hy  my 
pest  conduct,  and  my  feelings  St  this  mumeoi, 
an  esception  to  the  too  just  couclnsioa. 
Eialled  aa  are  the  honours  of  your  lordship's 

man.  I  come  before  your  lordship,  with  an 
ofiering — however  humbly  'tis  all  I  have  la 


Ho,t,db,  Google 


TO  MK.  JAMES  JOHNSON. 


fin,  of  my  mteftal  respect 
you,  my  lord,  'tis  all  1  hav 


(liat  you  will  do 
it    1  have  the  h 

ne  the  hoHoar 

o^eptof 

Where  is  that  sool  of  freedom  fled? 
ImioiDglfd  with  the  mighty  dead. 
Beneath  the  hallowed  turf  where  Wallace 

TO  DAVID  MACCULLOCH,  Esa.  (190) 
Dumffiea,  June  21j1,  1794. 
My  Dbab  Sir— My  Inns  projected  jour- 
ney thtouKh  your  country  ia  it  last  lised  ; 
and  on  Wednesday  neit,if  yi 
of  more  imjiorlauce  to  do, 
ilown  to  Gatehouae  obout  t 
o'clock;  I  shall  lie  happy  to  tate  a  draught 
of  M'Kuue's  beat  with  you.  Ooliector 
6yme  hiU  be  at  Ulcus  about  that  lime,  and 
Bill  lueeC  us  about  disb-of-tea  hour.    Sytue 


TO  JMKS.  DUNLOP. 
CailU  D-mglas,  June  2511,,  1794. 

Hesr,  iu  a  solitary  inn,  [na  Bolitary  village. 
Dm  1  set  by  niyacif,  to  amusa  my  brooding 
fauicy  sa  I  may.  Sohtary  conflnemenC,  you 
know,  is  Ho*aid's  fevourilo  idea  of  reclaim- 
ing siunera;  so  let  me  consider  by  what 
fatality  it  happens  tlist  I  baie  bo  long  been 
eiceediog  sinful  aa  to  neglect  the  correspond- 
ence of  the  moat  valued  friend  I  have  on 
tartb.  To  tell  you  tliat  I  have  been  ui  poor 
health  viill  not  be  encusa  enoagh,  though  il 
ig  true.  I  am  afraid  that  I  aru  about  to 
anffer  for  tlie  follies  of  my  youth.  My 
medical  friends  threaCeii  me  with  a  flying 
gout ;  but  I  trust  they  are  mistaken. 

1  am  just  going  to  trouble  your  critical 

elence  with  the  Srst  sketch  of  a  atania  I 
e  been  framing  as  I  passed  alor^  the  road. 
The  subject  la  liberty :  you  know,  Iny  bon- 

Waabiiigton's  birlh-doy.  After  having  men- 
tioned the  degeneracy  of  other  kmgdoma,  I 
come  to  Scotland  thua : 


in  thy  bed  of  death. 


re  babbling  winds  in  silence  sn 


le  the  [misled  ana  of  tottering. 


TO  MR.  JAMES  JOHNSON. 

Diimfrim,  1794, 


limsj,  1  have  all  this  win' 
M  almoat  huus  my  harp  oi 


edition  of  ray  poema,  and  this  with  my  ordi- 
nary business,  tinds  me  m  full  employment- 
I  send  you  by  my  friend.  Mr.  WaHace, 
forty-oue  Eougs  for  your  lifth  volume ;  if  we 
eiuiuot  Unish  it  any  o^ier  way,  what  would 
you  think  of  Scot!  words  to  some  beautiful 
Irish  airs  ?  In  the  meantime,  at  your  leisure, 
give  a  copy  of  the  "Museum  "  to  my  worthy 
fnend,  Mr.  Peter  Hill,  bookseller,  to  bind  tor 
me.  interleaved  with  blank  leaves,  exactly  aa 
lie  did  the  laird  of  Glenriddei'a,  that  I  may 
nisert  every  anecdote  1  can  learn,  togethet 


1  copy 


Qf  this 


penoQ,  oy  way  oi  making  the  ' 
book  famous  to  the  end  of  tii 

1  have  got  a  Highlan'l  dirk, 
have  great  veneration,  aa  it  c 
dirk  of  Lord  Balmeriuo.    It  i 


Ho,t,db,  Google 


CORRESPONDENCE  OP  BUESg, 
r  llie  silver  mounting,  |  me,  liid  t  had  nohody's  wdfara  to  n 


Thant  yoH  fop  the  copies  of  my  Voli 
Ballad.    Onr  friend  Claike  has  done  iadefd 
Weil ! — 'tia  ehaste  and  beautiful.    I  hai 
met  with  uiylljing  that  haa  pleased  i 


BUItNS  TO  MH-  THOMSON. 

Jutu,  1794. 

Is  there  no  newi  yet  of  flujelf  Or  i 
your  work  to  be  at  a  dead  atoii,  until  ih 
■Ifes  Bet  our  modem  Oipheus  at  libert 
fmm  the  savage  thraldom  of  demnciut  dii 
corda?  Alas,  the  day  I  And  voe  ii  me 
That  BUspiriouj  period,  prejuaot  with  Ih 
happhieaa  of  millions.       «         ■        * 

I  have  presented  a  copy  of  your  songs  t 
the  dauehtei  of  a  much-Taliied  and  much 
honoured  friend  of  niiiie.  Mr.  Uroham  o 
Fintry.  I  wrote  on  the  hlauk  side  of  thi 
title-page  llie  fullowuig  aildieis  totheyouu; 


lady: 


[he  Scottish  muse  iiii 

\  sacred  strains  and  tuneful  ni 
ept  the  gift;  tho' humble  he  who 
ich  is  the  tribute  of  the  grateful 
may  no  tuBiui-feeling    (191)  ii 


Or  pity's. 
While     c 


TO  ME.  SAMUEL  CLARKE,  Jen, 


the  necessity  of  murdering  o 
Dbont  the  business.  The  worda 
a*,  generally,  I  believe,  end  in  a  ' 
tols ;  hut  1  am  Btill  pleased  to  I 

id  ftmily  of  children  '       '      ' 


arther, 


L  squabble. 


once  before  hrought  me  to  the  brink  of  de- 
struction. I  dreacl  leat  last  n^ht')  business 
may  be  misrentesented  in  tlie  same  way. 
You.  I  beg,  will  take  care  to  prevent  it.  I 
"■  '   '     Mr.  Burni's  welfare  with 


vaiting,  a: 


,  and  slat 


to  Mm,  an.!. 

as  you  please,  show  him 

letter.    Whn 

.  after  oil,  was  the  ob. 

May  ma  snooess  in  the 

ud  to  the  iuatice  of  onr 

iy  of  loyalty 

Tm^m^T*  'V^JiU 

t  and  befr,  th 

on  the  parties  present  at  the  Ibolish 
ute.    1  shall  only  odd,  that  I  am  truly 

J  that  a  man 

■ho  stood  so  high  in  my 

uiition  OS  Mr 

,  should  use  me  in 

manner  in  wh. 

K,  B. 

SIR,  THOMSON  TO  BURNS. 

Edmla'f/h,  Ah!j>kI  IQlk,  179*. 


rieyel  till  fisnee  and  we  are  friends ;  but, 
nevertheless,  1  am  very  desirous  to  be  pr& 
pared  with  the  poetry;  and  as  the  season 
approaches  iii  which  your  muse  of  Coita 

frequently  gratihed  with  the  result  of  y04ff 


BURNS  10  MR.  THOMSON. 
Aagusimih,  179^ 

aud  thiuknig  of  "  O'ei  Che  luUa  and 


Ho,t,db,  Google 


BURSS  TO  MR.   THOMSON. 


swuy,"  I  spun  the  foUoiine  stania  for  it ; 
but  whether  my  Bpiituiii^  will  deserve  t<t  hs 
laid  up  iu  sture,  like  the  precious  thread  of 
tlie  5ilk-H0rm,  o[  hnished  to  the  devil,  "- 
the  vile  nxanufeetuK  of  the  spider,  T  1 
toy  dear  Sir,  to  your  usual  eaitdid  eriti< 
I  tnn  plensed  nith  several  lUies  in  it  at 
but  I  oivn  that  uow  it  appenri  rathi 

Tliis  is  jnst  a  hsaty  eketch,  until  [  see 


eieeptioii — "Sweet  Annie  ftae  t!ie  sea-heach 
c»me."    Now  for  the  song : — 

["  Ob  the  stat  and  far  simy!'^ 
I  ffive  you  leBve  10  ohase  this  song 


Ma  THOMSON  TO  BURNS. 
Edinburgh,  Sept.  IGlh,  1 


Mt  Dbak  Sib— You   have 


i  io  nut  ibink  it  one  of  your  ve  . 
jjrodixcliiu!,  though  it   certainly  eoiiiuiua 
■tenia;  that  are  worthy  of  all  acceptBtion. 

Tlie  setwiid  is  thejeast  to  my  UkUig,  par- 
ticularlj-  "  UulletH,  ipara  my  oidj  joy." 
Goulbuiiit  Ihe  ballets!  It  mi^bt,  perhaps, 
he  objtoted  to   the  third  vene,  "  At  the 

much  paiideur  of  imagery.  Bud  that  gteatec 
ieity  of  Oiooghl  would    base   better 


suited  ch 

The  tunc,  it  lunsC  be  reiueuibereJ, 

brisk,  cheerful  kind.  Upou  the  wh 

be  better  sduined  to  the  tune,  i 
eisted  only  ol  tlie  first  aud  last  «e 
the  choruses. 


BURNS  TO  MB.  THOHSON. 

Sept.  1794, 

1  SHAM,  withdraw  my  "  On  the  sean  an< 

&r  away "  altogether :    it  is  unequal,  au( 

unworthy  the  work.     Making  a  poem  is  liki 

begetting  a  son :  you  cannot  know  whethei 


of  luy  brain,  abortions  and  all ;    and,  ai 

aud  bunt  them.  (192)   1  am  flattered  U  yooc 
adoptins  "  Ca'  the  yowes  to  llie  knowes," 


acquainted  with  a  worthy  little  fellow  of  a 
clei^mau,  a  51r,  Cluuie,  who  saug  it  chatm- 
iu)!ly ;  and,  at  my  request,  Mr.  Clarke  took 
it  down  from  his  singing.  When  I  gave  it 
to  Johnson,  I  added  some  stanias  to  Uw 
song,  aud  mended  others,  but  atiti  it  will 
not  do  for  you.  In  a  solitary  stroll  whiidi  I 
took  to-day,  I  tried  my  bind  on  >  ftiir 
pastoral  liues,  following  up  the  idea  of  tbo 
clinrus,  which  I  wonld  preserte.    Here  it  is, 


BUENS  TO  MB.  THOMSON 

Sept.  1794. 
n  you  know  a  blackguard  Irish  song 


at   least   for  my  humble  rustic 

nmse,  to 

eipect  that  ever 

y  effort  of  hers 

bad  have 

SSi'^'vHsL* 

ink   it  is  better 

to  hava 

0  a  (tvourite  sir. 

ban  none 

principle  I  have 

all  along 

proceeded  on  tl 

Scots  Musical 

Museu^ 

andasthatpubl 

t  volume, 

intejid    the   C 

llowiuK   song,  t 

tha  air 

above  mentioned,  for  that  wort 

It  it  does  no 

suit  you  as  sn  editor,  you 

that  you 

can  sing  iu  thee 

Here  foUoua  "She  siivs  she  looe 

mheit 

Not  to  compB 

e  small  things  w 

th  great. 

usie    is    like    tl« 

mighty 

Frederick  of  Pru 

ting  f  we 

are  loid  that  h 

frequKitly  adm 

re^^hat 

decried,  and  alw 

ays  with- 

out  aiiy  hypocris 

confessed  his  a, 

miration. 

1  am  sensible  that  my  taste  in  m 

Ho,t,db,  Google 


COERESPONCEKCE  OF  BURNS. 


J  I  slioi 


iply  pleaseil,  iE 


lur  strglhspeys,  ancient  and 
me  most  exquisite  Biijoynient, 
id  other  judges  would  pmbahlj' 
disipist.  For  instance,  I  oni 
LLiip  Yeraea  for  "  Rothcmurche'B 
runt,"  8ji  air  which  puts  me  in  raptures ; 
uid,  in  ftct,  nideas  I  be  ple^^ed  with  the 
tune,  I  never  cau  make  verses  to  It.    Here  I 

yon.     "^the- 
ir both  oris'O!'' 


ir  atteotioa  as  the  muatc. 


I  have  begun  anew,  "  Let  me  in  this  one 
night."  Do  you  think  that  we  onght  to 
reiain   the  old  chorus  ?    1  think  we  must 

ataura  of  the  old  aoug.  I  do  not  aliogetlier 
like  the  third  liue  of  the  first  alaiisa,  hut 
cauoot  alter  it  to  please  mjaclf.  I  am  just 
three  stanzas  deep  in  it.  Would  ;ou  have 
the  deHoKfinmi  to  be  aucceasEul  or  other- 
wiaet— (houldahe"lethimiu"  or  not? 

Did  you  not  oiuje  propose  "The  sow's 
t^  to  Geordie"  as  an  ait  for  jour  work? 
T  ani  quite  delighted  with  it ;  but  I  acknow- 
lei^e  that  is  no  mark  of  its  real  excellence, 
I  once  set  nbout  verses  for  it,  which  I  meant 
to  he  ui  tbe  alternate  way  of  a  lover  and  his 
mistress  chanting  together,  I  have  not  the 
pleasure  of  knowing  Mrs.  Thomson's 
Christian  name ;  and  yours.  I  am  alrtud,  is 


TDung  girl's  recovery  from 

;:fev«> 

Doctor 

Maiwell  was  the  phjsicia 

tS'i 

saved  her  from  the  grive 

address  the  following  :- 

TO  DR.  MAXWELL 


je  feir  Jessie  from  tlie  grave  ? 


MR.  THOMSON  TO  BURNa 

I  sprightly  muse  is  n 


seen,  and  heucel 

orlh  shall  be 

mine 

when  the 

song  ia  going  re 

und.    I'll  giv 

Cunnl.igl.am 

a  copy;   ho  cai 

more  power 

ully  proclaim 

its  merit.      I 

m  far  tVom 

ervaluing 

your  taste  tor  t 

esttatlispey 

;   ontht 

contrary,  I  thi 

k  it  highly 

ating  and 

agreeable,  and  that  some  of  the  a 

rillispeya, 

when  graced  m 

oursfwill 

make  very  plea 

the 

that  ronph  Christrws   arc 

em 

ered    and 

softened  by  Id 

ely  woman. 

rith 

at  whom. 

you  tnow,  they 

,ad  hero  brutes. 

particularly  as  yonr  proposed  versea  to  it  ara 

fit  tor  burlesque 
ciimpnsnion.  lura.  i  nomson'a  name  (Katha- 
riiiel  is  not  at  ^l  poetical.  Eelain  Jeaui^ 
therefore,  and  make  tke  other  Jamie,  or  any 
other  tbat  sounds  agreeably. 

Your"Cfl'the  enei"is  a  precious  tittle 
morcean.  Indeed,  t  am  perfectly  astouielied 
and  charmed  with  the  endless  variety  of 
your  fancy.  {!&«  let  me  ask  you,  whether 
you  never  seriously  turned  your  thoi^hta 


if  your  p 


shine  forUi  in  all  its   aplenduur.    One  oi 

would  mske  your  (bitune.  The  rage  at 
present  is  for  musical  dramas ;  few  or  none 
of  those  which  have  aiipeaied  since  the 
'■  Duenna."  possess  much  poetical  merit; 
there  is  little  in  tlie  conduct  of  the  fable,  or 
in  the  dialogue,  to  iuteieat  the  ajuiience: 
they  are  ctueSy  Tehieles  for  music  and 
pageantry.  X  think  you  might  produce  a 
comic  opera  in  three  acts,  which  wonid  live 
by  the  poetry,  a     ' 


^m 


songs. 


;   the  re^t  might  be  lei 


....ogle 


tat  Covffiit-garden.  both  of  thei 

and    popular    rausiciuiB.      I    b 

inl«r«at  &iiA  manceavrijig  are  ofti 

to  liBve  a  dmtna  brougliC  oa ;    ai 

with  tha    iiambj-pamby  tribe    of   flowery 

Bcribblere:  but  were  you  to  addrcs-  "- 

SheridEUi  himself  by  letter,  and  send 

dramiiic  piece,  I  am  persuaded  he 

for  the  honour  of  g 


the 


BCRNS  TO  MR.  THOMSON. 
•y  able 


a  fair 
r    obtruding 


[R.  THOMSON  TO  BURNR 

Edinburgh,  Odaber  Uth,  179*. 
last  Kijbt  days  hive  been  devoted  to 
laniiiiation  of  the  Scottisb  coLlcetiona, 
baie  read,  and  aiag,  aud  fiddled,  and 
)n>idered,  till  I  am  halt  blind,  and  wholly 
.npid.    'Ilia  fev  airs    I    have    added,  are 


Peter  Pindar  has  at  length   sent  i 
the  aongs  I  eipeeted /torn  him,  whic 
in  general,  elegant  and   beautiful 
you  heard  of  a  London  cullectioii  of  Sr 


qnestiun 
though  li 


0  the< 


(s  elaarly  that  Mr.  'I'ytler,  in 
uiB  Lugenious  diaaertationt  hat  adduced  no 
sort  of  proof  of  the  hypotheiia  he  wished  to 
establish,  and  that  liii  daaiiScalJon  of  the 
tdrs  according  to  tha  ara^  ^^hen  they  vers 
Gominsed,  is  mere  faney  and  conjectura. 
On  John  Piukerton,  Esq.,  he  hai  no  mercy, 
hut  couaigns  him  to  damnation.  He  anarls 
at  ray  publication,  on  the  score  of  Rndar 
being  engaged  to  write  songs  for  it;  un- 
candidly  and  unjustly  leaving  it  to  be 
iofferaed,  that  the  son^s  of  Scottish  writers 
had  been  sent  a-packmg  to  make  rooca  for 
Peter's  1  Of  you  he  speaks  with  aome 
respect,  hut  gives  you  a  passing  hit  ot  two. 
for  daring  to  dress  up  a  little  aome  old 
foolish  songs  (or  the  Museum.  His  sets  of 
tiie  Scottish  airs  are  Ijikeu,  he  says,  from 
the  oldest  collections  aud  beat  authorities  i 
many  of  them,  however,  have  such  a  atranga 
aspect,  and  are  so  unlike  the  sets  which  are 
sung  by  every  person  of  taste,  old  ot  young, 

recognise  the  features  of  our  favourites.    By 


:  eollectiona  o) 
that  we  find  ti 
lie.    Tliesem 


rinted  ;    and,  as  different  persons  ui^ 
ame  aif  very  differently,  according  to 

.en   supposing  the  fine  collectors  to 
ss  the  industry,  taste,  and  discernment. 


a  chance,  whetiier  th 

coHections    eibibit 

any  of  the  melodies  i 

the  Slate  Ihev  wer( 

first  composed.    In  selecting  the  melodie* 

fit  my  oivn  colieetiou, 

I  have  been  as  inucii 

guided    by   the    livii 

g    as    by    tha    dead 

Where  these  differed 

I  preferred  the  seta 

that  appeared  to  me 

the  most  simple  and 

beautiful,  and  the  mo 

t  generally  approved : 

ny  compliment  to  my 

own  capability  of  cho 

sing,  or  speaking  o( 

the  piiiis  I  have  taken 

1  flatter  myself  that 

my  sets  will  be  found  equally  free  from 

™^"  Z""  o'h^  " 

la  hand,  uid  afiacted 

BURNS  TO  MR.  THOStSON. 

Oclobi^r  19M,  1794, 
My  Dear  Feiend— By  ibis  morning's 
post  I  luuve  your  list,  and,  in  general,  I 
highly  approve  of  it,  I  shall,  at  mote  lei- 
aure,  give  you  a  eritique  on  the  whole. 
Clarke  goes  to  yout  toiru  by  to-day's  fly, 
'  '  wiah  yon  would  call  ou  him  and  take 


a  standard 

He  vnll  retunt  iier< 

again  in 

week  or  twc 

,  .0  idessa  do  n 

ta^ng 

r  him.      On 

e  thing  I  hope 

haw 

ersuadeyou 

to  adopt  myfiTOUi 

rite, 

Ctaigie- 

urn  wood." 

itia 

•iC 

favourite  of  his  as  of  mine. 

Th 

lumitwas  made  ia  one  of  the  finest  woman 
Seotlsjid ;  and  in  tact  (enfre  hoiu)  ia  in  a 
uiiier  to  me,  what  Sterine's  Eliza  iras  to 
m — a  mistress,  ur  fiiend,  or  what  you  will, 
the  giiileleaa  simplicity  ot  Platonic  hire. 
(Now.  don't  put  any  of  your  squinting  con- 


m  this,  I 


ir  acquaintances.)   I  as 


Ho,t,db,  Google 


ovftBod  joy-could  fire  li 
ir  melt  him  with  pnthi 
lOok?  Ni  ■ 


geniua  of  juut  book  ?  No  !  do  I  Whenever 
I  waot  to  be  more  Chan  ordinuy  in  song — to 
be  in  some  decree  equal  to  your  diviner  airs 
—do  yon  iToagiDfl  X  tAit  and  pray  for  the 
celestial  emanation?  Tout  su  eoalriare!  I 
have  a  glorious  recipe;  the  very  one  that  for 
his  own  use  wu!  invented  by  the  divmily  o( 
heafinj^  and  poetry,  wben  erat  be  piped  to 
tbe  Socks  of  Admetus.  I  pnt  myself  iii  a 
regimen  of  admiring  a  fine  woman  i  and  in 
proportion  to  tlie  adorabibty  of  ber  charms, 
m  proportion  you  are  delighted  with  ray 
verses.  The  li^lniug  o(  her  eye  is  the  god- 
bead  of  Faniaaiua,  and  the  viccbery  of  her 
LDity  of  Helicon ! 


[Herejblbmt  "Sawyemj  Philip."} 

Nov  for  ■  few  mitcettaneous  remarks. 
'■The  Posie"  (in  the  filuseum)  is  my  conipo. 
aitioD ;  tbe  air  was  tafcen  down  ttoia  Mis, 
Byrns's  voice.  (191)  It  is  well  known  in 
tbe  treat  cnimtry,  but  the  old  woida  ae 
trash.  By  tbe  bye,  take  a  look  at  the  tuue 
again,  and  tell  me  if  yon  ila  not  think  it  ia 
the  original  from  which  "  Roalln  Castle  "  is 
composed.  Tiie  second  put,  in  particular, 
for  the  lirst  two  or  three  bara,  is  eiactly  the 
old  sir.  "Stratballan'a  liinient"  is  luinc; 
the  music  ia  by  our  ri);ht  trusty  and 
deservedly  irell-beloved  Allan  llasterton, 
"Donoclu-E[ead"(19J)ianotniine;  I  would 
give  ten  pounds  it  were.  It  ap)ieared  first 
in  the  Edinburgh  Herald,  anrl  came  to  the 
e^hir  uf  that  paper  with  the  Newcastle  post- 
mark on  it.    (19B)      "Whistle  o'er  the  lave 

John  Bruce,  a  celebrated  violin  player  in 
Dumfries,  about  tlie  begintiing  of  this 
CButury.  This  I  know,  Bruce,  who  was  an 
honest  mnn,  Choi^h  a  red-wud  Highlandiuan, 
constantly  claimed  it ;  anii  by  all  the  old 
musical  people  here,  is  believed  to  be  the 

"Andre*  and  hia  cutty  gun."  The  song  to 
which  this  is  set  in  the  Museum  is  mine,  and 
was  composed  on  Miss  Euphemia  Murray,  o( 
linlrose,  commonly  and  deservedly  called 
the  Flower  of  Slrathmors. 

"  How  Ion  J  and  dreary  is  the  night  I "  1 
met  with  some  such  words  in  a  colleotinn  of 
songs   aomeahere,    iriiich   I  altered   and 


CORRRSrONDEXCE  OF  BURNS, 

enlarged;  and  to  please  yon,  and  to  si 
your  Ihvourile  air,  I  have  taken  a  stride 
two  across  my  room  and  have  arranged 


iU  Snd  on  1 


my  opinion,  dispense 
Ideiidaairs.  A  lady  of 
noted  performer,  [Jays 
ne  time  so  charmin^y, 

'as  naked  as  Mr.  WhM- 


tiou.  (1971 

These  English  songs  grs.vcl  me  to  death. 
I  have  not  that  command  of  the  language 
that  I  have  of  my  native  tongue.  I  have 
be^  at  "Dnncau  Qray,"  to  dress  it  in 
Bnglish,  but  nil  I  can  do  is  deplorably  stupid. 


Since  the  above,  I  have  been  out  in  (he 

1  met  with  the  lady  whom  I  meii^oued 
in  the  Becond  page  iu  this  odds-and-ends  of 
a  letter.  As  usual,  I  gut  iotu  song ;  and 
returning  home  I  comi>oaed  the  follomng: — . 

Tlie    LOVER'S    MORNING    8A1UTE 

TO  HIS  MISTHESS. 

Tune— JJeil  tak  tie  Sfan. 

Sleep'at  thou,  or  wak'st  thou,  fairest  crea- 


Rosyro 
Numberin 


irnnowUftal 
I  ilka  bud  whi 


And  by  the  reekiug  floods, 
Wild  nature's  tenauta,  freely,  gbdly  strayt 
T'he  lintwhite  in  hia  bower 
Cliants  o'er  the  breitthing  Hower; 


Fhcebus  gilding  the  brow  o*  mom 
Banishes  ilk  darksome  shade. 

Nature  gladd'ning  ai>d  adorning ) 
Such  to  me  my  lovely  maid. 


Hoifdb,  Google 


TO  MB.  THOIISON. 
!t  niy  BuUeu  sky ;     them  inlo  t 


Tis  then  1  walce    ta   life,  to   light,  and 

joy  I  am 

If  you  honour  my  leraei  hy  Bftting  th 
air  to  Ihem,  I  will  vamp  up  the  olil  awg,  Wi 
inalte  it  English  enough  to  be  ouilerstood. 


eum.    Here  follow  tlie  verses  I  iuwnd 
{erf  folhas  "But  lately  MO.  in  glad- 


MR  TirOlISON  TO  BURXS. 
EdinbuT^k,  October  211k,  17B4. 
I  AU  sensihie,  my  dear  Mend,   that  a 
genuine  poet  can  no  more  eiiat  witbout  his 

adorable  she,  whose  hright  eyes  aTid  witirhing 

bard,  [list  I  might  driiik  het  eweet  health 
wliea  the  toast  is  going  round.  "Cra^ 
hum  wood"  must  certainly  be  ailopted  into 

Bongi  but,  in  the  iigme  of  decency,  I  must 

be  lyiug  beyond  thee,  dearie,  is  perhaps  a 
consummation  to  be  wished,  but  will  not  da 

tioiigs  in  your  last  Bill  di>  you  lasting  credit, 

periecllj  of  your  opinion  with  respect  to 
the  UdiUoual  aits.    The  idea  of  sending 


Cunuinghom  in  sending  yon  Bitson's  Scot- 
tish collection.  Permit  me,  therefore,  to 
present  yon  with  hia  English  collecl^ao, 
which  you  will  receive  by  tlie  coach.  I  do 
not  And  hia  historical  essay  on  Scottish  song 
interesting.    Yout  anecdotes  and  miacellb 

BO.  Allan  lias  just  sketched  a  charming  de- 
■ignfrum  "Maggie  Lauder."  She  is  dancing 
wiih  such  spirit  as  to  decttify  Ilie  piper,  who 


glee. 


i  almosi 

inclined  to  g 

engraved  in  the  style  of  Ritso 

coticetning  "  Jfaggie  Lender 


and  of  V 


Aiutmther 


BURNS  TO  IiIR.  THOMSON. 


innM.riunce  to  me. 

I  have  yesterday  begun 

my  Buecdotes,  &C., 

or  yonc  work.    I  intend 

a  the  form  of  a  letter  to 

you,  which  will  sa 

ve  me  fcom  the  tedions 

Indeed,  as  all  I  h»v 

nnconnetted  rema 

:s,  anecdotes,  scraps  of 

old  songs,  &&,it  wo 

lid  be  impossible  to  pva 
g,«mid4,a.,dane,.d. 

the  workabegimii] 

which  the  critics  ins 

1st  to  be  abotiit^y  neces. 

my  bat,  I  told  you  mT 

objections  to  the  song  yon  had  selected  fci 

"My  lodpiig  iso 

the  com  ground."    On 

my  visit  the  other 

day  to  my  fair  Chloria 

(that  is  the  poelic 

name  of  the  lovely  ^oA. 

idea,  which  I,  on  my  return  from  Iha  ri 
wrou^t  into  the  following  song. 
"MyChloris,  mark  how  green  the  grove! 
How  do  you  like  the  simplicity  and  1 
dcmcBs  of  this  pastoral  ?    I  think  it  pre 


Ho,t,db,  Google 


lUkej 


CORUESrO^JDESCE  OF  BtIRN3, 
a  6h  entering  bo  cSDclidly  ma 


kiiidlj  ii.  .      . 

Me,  lliaii  in  Ihe  account  0/  that  eifair  which 
I  sent  jou  in  my  last.    Coiijugul  love  1 
passion  wliich  I  deeply  feel,  and  higldy  \e 


BURNS  TO  MR.  THOMSON. 
AM  ont  of  temper  that  you  should  »et 


1  poeay  aa  that  other  species  of 
on, 
Fhere  lore  is  liberty,  uid  nature  law 

icallj  apei>I[iiig,  the  first  ia  an  in! 
;  of  wliich  the  gamut  ia  acanty 
lied,  but  tlie  tones  iueipressihly  91 


mjB( 


Seottisb  production.  There  is  a  pretty  " 
"     "sh  song  by  SlieriduD,  in  Che  "  Duenua." 

s  air,  which  is  out  of  sight  auperiot  la 
D'Urfey's.    It  begina, 

zii    sable   night  each  drooping  plant 


whatever  might  be  the  raptures  they  would 
give  me  yet  if  they  interfere  with  that  6-  - 
prtiiciple    It  IS  having  these  pleasures  a 

geiiirosity  disdains,  tbe  purchase  I  (1U9] 

Despaioiig  of  my  own  powers  to  give  j 
Tiinety  enough  in    Engliali  songs,  1  hi 


out  soii^s  of  nhich  the  n 
thi  g  similar  to  what  I  via 
lltCle  alteration  so  as  to  su 
the  air  eiartiy  la  give  yot 
work.    Hhete  the  songs  ba' 


5m  foryooi 


follows.  (;i(ll) 

Now  for  ray  English  song  to^Nmcy's 
to  the  greenwoods,^  Sec 
[Here  foiloat    the  aoiig    "FareaeU    tkoa 

There  ia  an  «t,  "The  Caledonim  Hunt"  1 


"  Vb  b^ 


rii  for  an  English  dress  (0  yo 
le  chinaing  month  o(  May." 


0'  hoiinie  Doou ;  "  tliis  air,  I  think,  might 
find  a  place  araong  your  hundred,  as  Lear 
says  of  Ilia  ki^hts.  Do  yon  know  ths 
'.  history  of  the  air  ?  It  ia  mirious  enough. 
A  good,  many  years  ago.  Mr.  James  Miller, 
writer  in  your  good  toivii,  a  gentieinan  whom 
possibly  you  know,  was  in  compmiy  with  our 

Millet  expressed  an  anient  ambitioa  to  ba 
able  CO  compose  a  Scots  air.  Mr.  Clarke, 
partly  by  way  of  yoke,  told  him  to  keep  to 
tlie  black  keys  of  the  harpsicord,  aud  pre- 
serve aome  kind  of  rhythm,  and  he  would 
infaUibly  compose  a  Scota  au-.  Cerlaln  it  ii 
few  days,  Mr.  Miller  produced  tlie 
of  ail  air,  widch  Mr.  Clarke,  with 
hes  and  corrections,  fashioned  into 
m  queation.  Kitaon,  you  know, 
ame  story  of  the  black  keys ;  but 
mt  which  I  have  just  given  yon, 

ago.  Now,  to  show  you  how  difficult  it  ia 
h  trace  the  origin  of  our  airs,  I  have  heard 
repeatedly  asserted  that  this  was  an  irisb 
r;   nay,  1  met  with   an  Irish  geuUeman 


Ho,t,db,  Google 


TO  ME.  THOMSOTT, 


1  Ihant  you  for  sdmitting  "  Craigicbi 

you  u  h  a  neiv  chocDa.    la  bcc,  the  chocua 
Hit  n      n  y  work,  but  a  part  of  son 

0  OE    he         My    heart    is    macli  ii 
til  ue 

1  a  Q  ashamed,  my  dear  tdSaw,  to  nuke 
the  request,  'tia  duiniiiig your  generality; 
but  ui  a  moment  wiieu  1  bod  for^uttea 
whether  I  was  rich  ur  |joor,  I  promised 
Chloria  a  copy  of  your  aoujn.    It  wrui;  - 

uiiKnidoua  request  is  doublj  so  bj  a  tedioi 
spulogy.     To  yaiike  yon  eoaie  amends,  . 

mation  out  of  them,  1  will  ceturu  you  Bi 

The  lady  'a  not  a  little  proud  that  she 
to  make  so  diaciiisaiehed  a  figure  m  yoi 
collection,  and  i  am  tiot  a  Utile  proHd  that  I 


TSR.  THOMSON  TO  BURNS. 
JVowiBiw  J5ih,  17 
My  Oood  Sib — Since  reieiiiug  you 
I  have  had  aJiolber  intenjew  with  Mr.  Clarke, 

"CaledonUtt  Hunt' 


e  tbtoka  II 


Ihanai 


did 


accordiogly.    Fray, 
.  _    .  how  pecuborly  well 
Scottish  aira  are  adopted  for '  ~     ' 


lie  sccoud  put,  in  many  ir- 


liiit  by  a  Teinale  voice.    A  tanj;  thu 
ibrmed  m  ikes  an  a^p'eeable  variety,  bu 

would  thiuk  at  it  itt  looie  of  tlioK 
remain.    The  only  one  of  the  kuid  you 


svcetiy  pastoral,  ana  your  serenade  t« 
Chloris,  for  "Deil  tat  the  Wati,"  so  passion- 
ately teTider,  that  I  liive  suiig  myself  into 
raptures  with  them.  Yoiit  soug  for  "  My 
lodging  is  on  the  cold  gronud,"  is  likewise  a 
diamond  of  tlie  Srst  water ;  I  am  quite  das. 
sled  and  de!ijj:hted  by  it.  Some  of  your 
Chlorises,  I  sujipose,  liave  flaien  hair,  from 
your  partiality  for  ibis  colour— else  we  differ 
about  it;  for  !  should  scarcely  concave  ■ 
woman  to  be  a  beauty,  on  reading  thai  aha 

"  Furewell  thou  stream  that  winding 
flows,"  1  thuik,  eticelleiit,  but  it  is  much  too 
serious  to  come  after  "N^aucyi" — atleast.il 
woidd  seem  an  incimgruity  to  provide  the 
same  air  with  merry  Seottiah  and  melancholy 
linglish  ccrses !  llie  mure  that  the  two  seta 
of  veracs  resemble  each  other,  iu  their  gen- 
eral character,  the  belter.  Those  you  have 
nulactured  tor  "Dauity  Dane"  will 
ivcr  channingly.    I  am  happy  to  Sud  you 


telUflgme 


Let 


BURNS    10    MR    THOMSON. 
A'orcniicr  I'M,  17Bt 
Sir,  what  a  punctual 


Yotr 


■espondant  I  am ,    though,  indeed,  you 

I  thank  yourself  for  the  ledium  of  my 

ers,  as  you  have  so  flattered  me  on  my 

wmanship  with  my  lavourice  hobby,  and 

e  praised  the  grace  of  his  ambling  aa 

much,  that  I  am  scarc^y  ever  olf  his  back. 

For  instancy  this  morning,  though  a  keen 

blowing  frost,  in  my  walk  before  breakfast,  I 

huishcd  my  duet,  wllich  you  were  pleased  to 

praise  so  muob.     Whether  I  have  uniformly 


.,  CoDgIc 


CORRESPOXDENCB  OF  BCESa. 


[led,  I  will  not  say ;   hut  here  it 

re    follom    lie   unj      "PtSlg    and    , 


Tell  me  honeatly  bow  you  like  it,  and  pmnt 
out  wliatever  you  thinli  faulty. 

1  am  m»ch  pIcasFd  nith  your  idea  of 
^n^tig  niir  soufn  in  alternate  atBustis,  and 
regret  Chat  you  did  not  hint  it  to  me  sooner. 

I  remember  yout  ohjeotiuns  to  tbe  name 
Fhiliv.  but  it  is  the  common  abbreviation  of 
Phillia.  Solly,  the  only  other  name  that 
iuits,  has,  Co  my  ear,  ■  vulgtu-ity  aboat  it, 
vbich  nnliCa  it  for  anything  except  burlesque. 
I'he  legion  of  Scottish  poetaaten  of  the  day, 
whotn  your  brother  editor,  Mr.  RitMu,  ruiks 
Kith  me  aa  my  coei'alt,  have  alirays  niinnhen 
vulgarity  for  aimplioiiy ;  whereas,  siniijlicity 

hwid,  as  from  atfected  point  and  puerile  tou. 


re  eieellent. 


ince,"T«lUnhB 
an  unpacalleled  composiljon ;  and 
r  and  tiia  cutty  gun,"  ia  the  work  of 
.  By  the  way,  sre  you  not  qnitfl 
to  tWnk  that  those  men  of  genim,  for 


whoa 


.  tainly  w 
Aue  Scottidh  lyrics,  shonio  ue  nn^uownr  ii 
haa  given  me  many  a  heatt-aehe.  A-propoa 
to  (lacclmiBlian  songs  in  Scoteh,  I  com- 
posed one  yesterday,  for  an  air  1  like  much 
— "  Lumps  o"  puddjng." 

[fle«  filtam  "  Omfmled  wT  Utile."] 


will  send  it 


le  other. 


0  the  ai 


ould,  ji 


"Craigia- 


not,  honcver,  a  case  in  point  with  "  Kothe. 
mnrclie  ^ "  there,  oi  in  "  Koy^a  tfifC  of  XlAi- 
Talloch,"  a  chorus  goes,  to  my  taste,  well 
enough.  As  10  the  clioms  going  Qret, 
that  is  the  case  with  Buy's  wife,  ag  veil 
Ba  "  Kothemurche."  In  fact,  in  thn  hrst 
part  of  both  tunes,  tbe  rhythm  is  ao  peculiar 
and  irregular,  niid  on  tlist  irregularity 
depends  ao  much  of  their 


BUESS  TO  MB.  THOMSON, 

lenmanahip,  I  baTe 
lish  stanzas,  byway 
Boy's  Wife."    You 


Since  yesterday' 
frBraed  a  couple  of  I 
of  an  English  aongt 
will  allow  me,  th.ni 
English  eortesponds 


{Htrefdhvit  "CoBrt  (Aou  Itaxe  i» 
myKalyT"] 

Well  I  I  think  this  to  be  done  in  I 
three  tuma  across  niyrooni,  and  with  i 
three  pinclu?a  of  Irish  bladiguard,  is 


St  e'en  Uke  t 


all  their 


ir  the  verse  accordingly.    Leaving 
'    '  ith  tunes,  haa,  I 


fdcui 


.  .  of  applause  from  ao 

I'ell  my  friend  Allan  (for  I  a 

iug  biowD  to  one  another,  to 


larlhl.  1 


stock  and  horn.    1  imi 
posed  of  three  i>nr[s;  t 

common  li^hbtid  cow'a  bora,  ci 


,  at  last,  gotFen  one, 


compare  with,  j  Luk^Ib    wi'    the    I 

Does  not  the  tamcness  of  (be  preaied  aylla-  tiie  smaller  end,  imtil  the  aperture  he  largo 
ble  strike  you?  In  the  laat  case,  aiib  the  enough  to  admit  the  stock  to  be  puahcd  up 
true  fiuor  of  genius,  yon  strike  at  once  into  thtuugh  the  horn  until  it  be  held  by  tbe 
tbe  «i>d  origiuahty  of  the  air;  whereas,  ui  thicker  end  of  tbe  thigh-bone ;  and  lastly, 
the  first  inaigiid  method,  it  ia  like  the  gratuig  '  *n  oaten  reed  exactly  cut  and  notched 
acrew  of  the  pins  beftire  the  fiddle  is  brougiiC  I  like  tlut  which  yon  sea  every  shepherd  hoy 
into  tune,  lliis  ia  ray  taate;  if  I  am  wrong,  have,  irben  the  coru-ateras  are  green  and 
I  beg  pardon  of  tbe  cosnotceati.  full-grown.    The  reed  is  not  made  fast  in 

'"rhe  Caledonian  Hunt"  is  so  charmmg,  the  boue,  but  ia  held  by  the  lips,  and  playi 
that  it  would  make  any  subject  in  a  song  go  \  loose  in  the  smaller  end  of  the  stock;  uhila 
down  I  but  paihoa  is  eertsinly  its  native  '  the  stock,  with  the  horn  hanging  on  iti 
tongue.    Bcottiah  bacchawUiaua  we  certainly  i  larger  end,  ia  lield  by  the  hauda  in  flaying; 


Ho,t,db,  Google 


Thesiockba;  six  o 


flute,  'niisofiui 
n  tlie  bra»  of  Ath 
i  ahqihcrds  are  vc 


ME.   THOMSON  TO  BORNS. 

he  wnrM  through  the  mcdiut 
lenspaper ;  and  shiiuld  titers  I 
I'liUe,  to  tliese  Mr.  Fetty  shall  t 
nd  all  my  reward  st 


tit  of  bloiviufr  it  nihtly  j  (Or  we  can  make 
little  of  it.  IfMr.AilanchoDsea.Iwiliseiiii 
him  a  ai|;h£  of  mine,  aa  I  look  on  myself  Cn 
beskind  of  brother-brush  with  him,   "Fridt 


TO  PETEK  MILLER,  Ivn.,  Eaa.  (S 


Dam/rifs,  Nommier,  1794. 
tt— Your  offer  h  indeed  truly 
1  most  sineerely  do  1  thank  you 


d  bate  volunteered 


welfare,  the  very  existence,  of  near  half.a. 

uot  sport  uith. 

In  the  mean  time,  tbey  are  moat  welcome 
to  mv  ode^  only,  let  them  insert  it  aa  a 
met  with  by  acadent,  and 
Nay,  if  Mr.  Perry,  whose 
hoiionr,  after  yoar  character  of  him,  I 
cannot  doubt,  if  he  will  |^ve  me  an  address 
wid  channel  by  vhieh  any  Chin;  nill  come 
safe  from  those  spiea  with  lebieh  be  may  be 
certain  that  his  correspondence  is  beset,  1 
will  now  and  then  Bend  him  any  bsKatelle 
that  I  may  write.  In  the  present  hurry  of 
Europe.  notMng  hut  news  and      '"''        '" 


5  they  have 


here 


;   Heai 


minsl  the  days  of  peace, 


rith  his  paper,  which,  by  the  bye,  to  any 

'      '      has  the  least  relish  tor  wit,  h  s 

indeed.    With  the  most  Kratetul 


only  the  most  pun 

table  correspondent  i  ever  met  witn.  to 
attempt  flattering  you  never  entered  into  my 
head ;  the  truth  is.  1  loolt  bai^  with  surprise  at 
my  inipndence,  iu  so  frequently  n^hlin^  at 
lines  end  couplets  of  your  incompanhle 
lyrics,  for  which,  perliaps,  if  you  had  served 
me  right,  you  would  jurre  sent  me  lo  the 
devil  On  the  contrary,  however,  you  liave 
all  along  condescended  to  invite  my  critidsm 


are  charming,  but  the  duet  is  a  cAs/ 
iTieimre-  "  Lumps  o*  pudding "  shall  cer- 
tainly moke  one  of  my  family  dishes ;  yoa 
have  cooked  it    so  capitally,  that  it  will 


ihich  we  have  great  choice.  Besides,  one 
Iocs  not  often  meet  with  a  singer  capable  of 
iving  the  proper  eli«^  to  the  latter,  while 
he  fornter  are  easily  suiig,  and  acceplahle  to 
very  body,    I  partlcipaie  in  your  rfgret 


l;    it   is  provoking  to  every 

have  a  picture  painted  from 
il  ballad  "The  Soldiet's  Be- 
most  interesting  point  of  iime 
r,  when  she  first  recognises  her 


COREESrONDENCE  OP  I 


soMier'i  anaa.    Bnt  I  enbinit  tlie 
yOH,  end  beg  your  opinion, 
fsired  mo  t^  thank  you  for  yont 


standing  in  a  niche  by  tbe  aide  of  Bncns 
tlio  Scottiah  Puitbean.    He  has  seen  t 
nide  instrument  yon  describe,  ao  does  n 
■w«at  yon  to  send  it;    but  niahea  to  know 
whether  you  bebeve  it  to  hate  ever  been 

Scottish  aliepherda,  and  ^ben,  and  in  wliat 
part  of  tlie  country  chieily.  I  doubt  much 
if  it  was  callable  of  aiiy  thing  but  rooting 

remembcra  to  baie  heard  one  in  hig  younger 
days,  made  of  wood  instead  of  yout  bunt 
and  that  the  aoiind  vaa  abominabte. 

Do  not,  I  bcieech  vou.  return  any  books, 


in  composition,  and  in  *  mnltiplitcity  of 
eflbrts  in  the  same  style,  disappeara  al- 
ti^cthcr.  For  these  three  thousand  years, 
we  pnetic  fblka  have  been  describing  the 
spring,  for  instuice ;   and  as  the  spring  con- 

nesa    in  the  imagery,  &c,  of  theae    said 
'    rhyming  folks. 

A  great  critic  (Aitin)  on  songs,  says  that 
love  and  wine  are  the  eiclusive  tliemes  for 
sotig.writing.  The  following  is  on  nether 
subject,  and  consequently  is  no  aoug ;  but 
will  be  allowed,  I  think,  to  be  two  or  tht«e 
pretty  good  prose  thaugbta  invei 


cd  into 


i'  Wd(,  owl  o"  that." 
you  the  foregoing  song  for 
your  book,  but  merely  by  way  of  cine  la 
bognlelk ;    for  llie  piece  ia  not  really  poetry. 
Slow  will  the  following  do  for  -  Craigie-buro 

[llerefollosa  "  Cmlgif -bun -mood." 
Farewell!  God biess  yout 


BURNS  TO  MR.  THOMSON. 

Dscember,  1794, 


value  of  your  book ;    a 

yon  that  the  Jacobite  s^oe  in  the  Jlnaenm 

10  ■■  IVrell  never  be  peace    "  '      ' 

Peter  Pindar's  excellent  k 

"My  Naani^t  au 
How  does  tbia  please  you?  As  to  tbe  points 
of  time  foe  the  expression,  in  your  proposed 
print  from  my  "  Sodger's  Retura,"  It  musi 
certainly  be  at — "  She  gat'd,"  The  in- 
teresting dubiety  and  suspense  taking 
possession  of  her  countenance,  and  the 
gashing  fondness,  with  a  miiture  of  roguish 
playfulness  in  his,  etribe  me  as  things  of 


MR.  THOHSON  TO  BURNa 

Edmharsh,  Jamtay  30, 179S. 
H.Y  DEAIl  Sir— I  thank  yon  heartily  foi 


style,  strikes  n 


ry  forcibly;   a 


iiy  wonder  to  find 

lauy  siirninuntmg  this  diHiculty, 

,'  delightful  songs  you  have  sent 

me.    Your  tiiei  fa  bamtelle  song,  "  For  a' 

t,"  shall  nadoubtdriy  be  iueluiled  m  my 

.  (303J 


great  hi 


in  great  tru 


h,  yours,  J 


i.  THOJtaON. 
January,  1795. 


BURNS   TO   MR.  THOMSON, 
Eccleficliim,  Febmimi  Ith,  1795. 
Mt  dear  Thomson— Ynu  cannot  have 

I,    In  the  course  of  niy  duty  as  super- 
;iii  which  capacity  I  have  acted  of  late), 
1    came   ycatemi^ht  to    this    uufuttunale. 


Ho,t,db,  Google 


TO  MRS.  EIDDEL. 


wickfd,  tittle  viH^e.  (204)  I  lisve  gone 
forward,  but  auows,  of  ten  fret  deep,  tme 
impeded  my  pmgtcss ;  I  have  tried  to  "  gae 
back  tlic  gate  I  cam  again,"  but  the  same 
obstacle  bas  shut  me  up  nithin  insapcrsble 
bara.  To  add  to  my  misfortune,  since  dmner, 
■  scraper  liaa  been  torturiug  catgut,  in  sounds 
Ibat  would  baie  insulted  the  dying  agonies 
of  ft  sow  under  the  bauds  of  a  butcher,  and 
thinlis  himself,  on  that  very  account,  ei- 
ceediuf  ^ood  coJnpBny,   In  fact,  1  have  been 

these  miseries ;  or  to  hang  inysel(  to  get  rid 
of  them :  tike  a  prudent  mui  |a  character 
congenial  to  my  every  thought,  word,  and 
deed),  I,  of  two  evils,  hare  riiosBi  tlie  least, 
and  am  very  drunk,  at  your  service  1 

1  wrote  yon  yesterday  from  Dumfries.  I 
Lad  not  lime  then  to  tetl  you  all  [  wauted  (o 
Bay ;  and.  Heaven  tioows,  at  pteseut  I  have 
not  capadty. 

1)0  you  know  an  idr — I  am  sure  you  must 
know  it— "We'U  gang  no  more  to  you  town?" 
1  think,  in  tlowisb  time,  it  would  make  an 
excellent  song,    I  am  bi<:hly  debglited  with 

yoar  attention,  I  have  a  fait  dame  iu  my  eye, 
to  whom  I  would  cousecrale  it. 

As  1  am  just  going  to  beJ,  I  wish  yuua 
good  night. 


itR-  TUOJiaON  TO  BUEN3. 

Febmarii  251A,  HSS. 
I  HAVE  to  thank  you,  my  dear  Sir,  for  twc 
etuatles ;  one  contAioiug  "  Ift  me  in  this  an< 
night  i"  and  the  ottia  from  Ecdefeuhan, 
proving  that,  drunk  or  sober,  your  "  mmd  * 
never  muddy."  Ton  have  displayed  gret 
address  in  the  above  song.     Her  answer 


attached  ID 


ft  win  give 


I  likei 


BURNS  TO  MR.  THOMSON.  (205) 
Ja-fly.  1795. 
Lit  me  know,  your  very  first  leisure,  bow 
you  like  this  song. 

[flere/oHoKS  Ihe  long"  On  Oilima  being  i«."] 
«  do  you  like  the  foregoing?  The 
air,  "Humours  of  Glen,"  is  a  great 

.  .-ite  of  mine,  and  as,  except  the  silly 

stuff  in  the  "Poor  SoW'-"  " — 


Esfor 


mfbrit 


[  dire  say  that  this  is  the  first 
ver  received  from  this  nether 
le  you  from  the  regions  of  hell. 


arrival  hero,  I  was  fairly  tried,  and  sentenced 
to  endure  the  pui^atorial  tortures  of  this 
infernal  CDnline  fur  the  space  of  ninety-nine 
years,  eleven  months,  and  twenty-uine  di^ 
aud  all  on  account  of  tlie  impropriety  of  my 
conduct  yestemight  under  your  roof.  Here 
am  I,  laid  on  a  bed  of  pitiless  fune,  with 
my  aching  head  reclined  on  a  pillow  of  ever- 
piercing  tlmrn,  while  an  infernal  Connentor, 
wiiukl^  aud  old,  and  cruel,  his  name,  I 
think,  ia  Recollection,  with  a  whip  of  sco^ 
pious,  forbids  peace  or  rest  to  approach  me, 
and  keeps  anginsh  eternally  awake.  Still, 
Madam,  if  1  oouW  in  any  measure  be  rein- 
BtaKd  in  the  good  opinion  of  the  fair  circle 
whom  my  condacClast  night  so  much  injured, 
1  think  it  would  be  an  alleviation  to  my  tor- 
menta.  For  this  reason,  1  trouble  you  with 
this  letter.  To  the  men  of  the  company  I 
will  make  no  apology.  Your  husband,  who 
insisted  on  my  drinking  more  than  I  chose, 
has  no  right  to  blame  me ;  and  the  otbec 


Ho,t,db,  Google 


m  you,  Midain,  1  have  moct 
Yout  good  opinion  I  valued 
^pre&test  acquisitiona  1  had  ti 
«nd  I  WHS  Uuly  a  beast  to  foi 


UORIlESPOSDENta:  OF  BURNS, 
apologise. 


SIra.  Riddel  if  she 


honour  to  be  prejudiced  in  my  favour;  this 
ntbea  me  hope  that  1  liave  not  outiBged  her 
beyond  ill  forgiveness.    To  »11  the     "   - 
ladies  please  present  my  humblest  cont 
tor  my  conduct,  aui  my  peljtiou  for 
gncioui  pardon.    Oh  idl  ye  powers  of  de- 
ceney  and  decorum !  wliiapn  to  them 
my  errors,  though  great,  were  involnntar 
that  an  JntoiicatS  man  ii  the  vilesl 
beaata—that  it  vas  not  in  my  nature  ti 
bmtal  *  -'    -  -     ' '-  ■ 


with  me— but  — 


asible 


steps  aod  bay  at 
pity  the  perdition 


TO  THE   SAME. 


Ma.BuBNs'scomplinicnta 


TO  MR,  HERON,  OF  HERON.  (207; 
Dmn/rk,.  1795. 
Sin — I  enclose  yon  some  copies  of  a  couple 
of  political  ballads,  one  of  which,  I  believe, 
you  have  never  aeeo,  (203)  Would  to 
Heaven  I  could  make  you  master  o(  as  many 
votes  in  the  SteutLrtry — but — 

Who  does  Che  utmost  that  he  can. 
Does  well,  acta  nobly-— angels  could  no  more, 
humble  efforts  to 


eetTect 


itely  printed  a  good  m 
country. 


n  the  foe.  I  hi 


To  pillc 


isthera 


acter,  the  utte 
,._  .,  ,.  a  profligate  juuto,  which  haa  not 
only  outraged  virtue,  but  violated  common 
deceucyi  Miicli,  spurning  erea  hypocrisy  ai 
nltry  ioiqnity  below  their  daring — to  nn- 
laak  thdr  flagitiouanega  to  the  brnulest  day 
-to  deliver  such  over  to  their  merited  fete 

le ;  is  not  only  propiiety,  hut  virtue.  Yoti 
ave  already  at  your  auiQliary,  the  aoher  de- 
ntation of  mankind  on  the  lieads  of  your 
pponenls;  and  I  swear  by  the  lyre  of  Thalia 


aupervisOT  of    1 


I  am  eicrenieiy  obliged 
ind  mention  of  ray   intei 


tre  which  is  necessary  for  any  belle-lettre 

Eiin  return  to  hia  wotited  leisure,  he  wi 

song,  "To  thee,  loved  Nith,"  whii*  it  t 
31  deaervea.  (206)  When  "Anacharsi 
avels-'comu  to  hand,  which  Mn.  Riddel 
[utioned  as  her  gift  .   ' 

t.  B.  will  feel  honoured  by  the  indulgence 
a  perusal  of  them  '    ' 


kiaure  for  deliberate  reading. 


.    uid  Che 
y  allow  too  little 


r  yet 


precedency,  in  two  or  three  years  I  sliall  he 
ac  Che  head  of  that  list,  and  be  appointed 
of  eourm.     Then,  a  FRIEND  might   be  of 

t^  kingdom  whi^I  would  like,  A  si'oer- 
viaoc's  income  viuies  from  about  i  hnndi  cd 

business  is  an  incessant  drudgery,  and  would 
be  nearly  a  complete  bar  to  every  si«dea  ot 
literary  pursuit.   The  mooient  I  am  agipumted 


Ho,t,db,  Google 


BURNS  TO  ua.  THOMSON. 


aln-aya  a  business  purely  of  political  potroii- 
ege.  A  collectatship  varies  mudi,  from  btiUi 
liiun  two  hundred  a-year  to  near  >  thousand. 
They  also  onrae  foniaid  by  precedency  on 
Ihe  list ;  and  have,  beaidea  a  handsome  in- 
literary  leisure,  wilh  a  decent  competency, 
is  the  summit  of  my  wishes.  It  would  be 
tbe  prudish  aHectation  of  silly  pride  in  ms 
to  say  that  I  do  not  need,  or  would  not  be 
indebted  to,  s  political  tiieiid;  at  the  same 
time.  Sir,  1  by  no  meana  lay  my  affairs  before 
TfNU  thua.  In  hook  my  dependent  situaUon 
nee.  If,  in  my  pn^ress  of 
ife,  an  opening  should 


ony< 


BS  of  a  {[entl 


might  bring  ii 


forward,  I  sliEill  petition  yout  goodness  with 
the  same  frankness  as  I  now  do  m^sdf  tbe 
honour  to  subscribe  myself,  R.  B. 


TO  MISS  FONTENELLE. 

i>Kw/ria!,  17!)fl. 
Madam — In  sach  a  bad  world  as  ours, 
■■    '      ir  benefactors.    To 


iir  humble  Dninftiea  boards. 


plainest  Bgure.    'ITiis,  Madam,  is 
]\oia  or  interested;  I  pay  it  ti 


Will  the  foregoing  lines  |909)  he  of  a 
service  to  you  in  your  approaciiiiig  bcnf 
iiiglit  ?    It  they  will,  I  shall  be  prouder 


how  much  1  lia<^e  tbe  honouc  to  b^  & 


ME.  THOMSON  TO  BURNS, 
fou  must  not  think,  my  good  Sir,  that  I 
0  any  intentiim  to  enhance  the  ralne  of 

gitt^  when  I  say,  in  justice  to  the  in- 
ious  and  voitby  artist,  that  tbe  deugn 

execution  of  the  "Cotter'a  Saturday 
;ht "  is,  in  my  opinion,  one  of  the  happi- 
prodnctiiHis  of  Allan's  pen«t.  I  shall 
grievously  disappointed  if  you  are  uoC 
:e  pleased  with  it. 


think  strikingly  like  you.  i 


d  for  your  p 


rait,  I 


me  whether  Mrs.  Bums  Snda 
ongtheiisutes. 

eipress  tlie  feelmg  of  adiniraliou 
I  have  read  your  pathetic  "  Ad- 
e  Woodbrk,"  your  elegant  pane- 
iledouis,  and  your  affecting  verses 
i  illness.  Kvery  repeated  perusal 
L'cs  new  deliglit.    'rbe  other  song 


BUKNS  TO  MR  TIIOJISON.  (210) 

answer  your  orders — your  tailor  could  not 
e  more  punctuaL  I  aju  just  now  in  a  high 
fit  for  poetisiiijr,  provideil  that  the  strait 
"  :  of  enlicism  don't  cure  me.  If  you 
0  a  post  or  two,  administer  a  little  of 
jtoiicating  potion  of  your  applause,  it 
aise  your  humble  servant's  ftensy  to 


I  THOMSON. 

jlfoy,  1795, 


,..,  Google 


n  dnsajn^ 


le  parctl  (I 


jndgei  of  the  first 

rate  production.   My  phiz  is 
that  Ibe  very  joiner's  apprentice,  ■ 

was  out  of  lowu  that  ilay),  knew 
My  most   ^tefuL  eomplimeiita 

with  his  masterly  pencU.  One  si 
^dence  is,  that  tlie  littte  one  whf 
the  feloDioiis  atlfmpt  on  the  cac^s 


nboin,  from  that  propQisity  to  nitty  nicked- 


COBRESPOSDENCE  OF  BURNS. 

n  happy  to  find  you  ar 


I  nam 


twa  days'  auld,  I  fOreaai 

ttnking  features  erf  his  dii , 

WilUe  Micol,  aftei  a  certain  hieiid  of  mine 

who  is  one  of  the  tnaaters  of  a  gramnuu. 

(iliool  in  a  dty  whicli  sliiil  he  nameless. 

Give  the  enclosed  niignni  to  mj 
much-valued  friraid  Cnuninj^hani,  and  tel 
him,  that  on  Wednesday  1  t'o  Co  visit  i 
friend  of  his,  to  whom  his    friendly  par. 

trodiiced  me — I  mean  a  oeH-kuown  niilitan 
and  literary  character.  Colonel  Sirom. 

Yon  <la  nut  tell  me  how  you  liked  my  twt 
last  toiij^    Are  they  cuudeumed  ? 


MR.  THOMSON  TO  BURNS 

Jtfoji  \SiK  1793. 
[t  gives  me  ^reaC  pleasure  to  find  tha 
1  are  all  so  well  antisKed  with  Mr.  Alhn- 

IK  diapoai 


OUflh. 


liElle  fellow,  whi 

ippeared  so  very  early,  and  sng^sled 
he  should  he  named  after,  is  curious 
[  am  Bcquniuled  with  that  persi>n, 
[Odi^  of  leeming  and  genius,  and 
fellow,  thoogh  no  samt, 

blush  wlien  you  tell 


lu  have 


I  d. 


It  Ihiul 


repay  yon. 


ently  esteem  and  respect  y<  , 
the  hberal  and  kind  manner  in  which  you 
have  entered  into  the  spirit  of  my  under* 
taking,  which  could  not  hove  heen  perfected 
without  yon.  So  I  be^  you  would  not 
make  a  fool  of  me  again  by  speabng  of 
cbli^-ation. 
1  like  your  two  last  songs  very  mncb,  and 


Here  g 


t  I  tbint 


O  whistle,  end  I'll  come  to  ye,  my  lad ; 
ft  whistle,  and  III  come  to  ye,  my  lad ; 
lio'  falber  and  mother  and  a'  should  gas 

liy  Jeonie  will  venture  wi'  ye,  my  lad." 


In  ftct,  a  fan-  di 


of  Pamassi 


It  of  tl 


I  Nine,  of 
wiichi 


JX. 


ip  the  incen 
the   Grai 


Loves  have  armed  with  U>;htnins— a  fait 
one,  herself  the  heroine  of  the  son;;,  inusts 
on  the  Bmenilmciit,  and  dispute  bet  com- 
mands it  you  date! 

{Hcrefollom  "Tbiaiano myain  Uiiiii.''] 
Do  you 


idity  of  I. 


inspection,  and  that 


t  )asi 


know 

whether  I  am  right,   hut  tha 

song 

stremelyp 

obable 

thM  1 

l™e's'"newV-ro"sed  celestial 

will  b 

the  fogs  o 

lenee, 

if  you  hke  the  so 

ig,  It  may 

go  as 

Scotci 

h  verses  to  the  ait  of'l  wi. 

h  my 

Im-e  « 
Englis 

h  lines  may  fol'low. 

d  poor  Er 

kine's 

leo 

lose  you  a  "  Fot  a 

that  and  a 

that," 

which 

was  tievet   in   pri 

t;   it  is  a 

much 

enpcri 

I  have  bee 

n  told 

th«it 

lady. 

[Hi 

e  fillou,  HBJonjs 

nj*M 

dad  Ih 

yonro, 

e/r=^i«Sr.™/o 

nd  "Obw 

Ho,t,db,  Google 


TO  MRS.  DUNLOP. 


Written  on  tlie  blnnk  lenf  of  i 
Ihe  last  edition  of  my  poems,  pre! 


1  frieudaliip,   I  liave  so 
le  name  of  Chloria,  is  th 


MR.  THOJISON  TO  BURNS. 

Edinbargh,  August  Srd,  1795. 

M     Db  K  SiK— This  will  be  delivered 

to  b     a  Dr.  Brionlon,  who  has  rwd 

k        nd  Boots  for  the  honour  of 

ait  ance.      I    do    not  know  tl;e 

ge       nrni         ut  his  ftiend,  who  appheii  to 

My  ve  just  been  gladdened,  and 

my  mind  feasted,  with  jour  last  jiatket— 
full  o(  pleasant  things  indeed.      Wliat  an 

lell  you  that  1  am  delighMd  wltii  all  the 
ilir-p  snng..,  S3  .well  B3  with  your  elegant 
and  tender  verses  to  Chlaria. 

4  am  aorry  you  should  he  Induced  to  alter 
"Oh  whistle  and  I'fl  comB  to  ye,  my  fad," 
to  the  prosaic  hne,  "Thyjeanie  will  venture 
wi'  ye,  my  lad."  I  must  be  permitted  to 
ny,  that  I  do  not  think  the  fitter  either 


therefore,  you  would  in 
the  charming  Jeouie,  who 
the  Une  teni^u  nualEered. 

I  should  be  happy  to  see  M».  Clarke  pro- 
duce a  few  aira  to  he  joined  to  your  verses. 
Everybody  regrets  his  wridng  so  Te^  little, 
as  eierybod;  acknowledges  his  ability  to 
wTite  well.  ?ray  was  the  leaolution  fonned 
coolly  before  dinner,  or  was  it  a  midnight 
TOM  mude  ovn  a  bowl  of  punch  with  the 


BURNS  TO  MR,  THOMSON.  (211) 
How  do  you  like  the  forgoing  ?    1  have 
he  speed  of  my  Pegasus ;  but  what  say  yon 


BURKS  TO  Ma  THOMSON.  (313) 

SncH  is  the  neciiliarity  of  the  rhythm  o( 

this  air,  that  I  find  it  impossible  to  uako 


MB.  THOMSON  1 


Mv  Dear  Sik— Your  Eng 


laaure  of  the  air,  aud,  as  it  plague: 


TO  MRS.  DUNLOP. 

December  1S(S,  1795. 
Mt  DEiR  PniE^jQ— As  1  am  in  »  eom- 
<tupid,  as  even  ttie  Deity  of  Suluesa'  herself 


of  hi 


for  my  late  silence.  Only  one  I  shall  n 
tion,  because  I  know  you  will  sympathist 
it  1  tliese  four  months,  a  sweet  little  g 
my  youngest  child,  has  been  so  ill,  that  ev 
day,  a  WMk  «  less  threatened  to  termin 
I  her  eiisteiiee.     There  had  much  need 


Ho,t,db,  Google 


C0RRE3P0NDESCE  OF  BPESS. 


>r  fate,  et 


It  I  a 


vigour  of  mDDhoodj  aa  1  am-— auch  things 
liappen  evety  day— Gracious  OoJI  what 
would  become  of  my  little  floct  I  'Tia  here 
that  1  euvy  your  people  of  fortune.  A 
tbthet  ou  his  death-bed,  taking  an  ever- 
bstia«  leave  of  his  children,  has  indeed 

fortune  leaies  his  eons  and  daughters 
independeiicj  and  friends;  while  I — Irnc  " 
eh^l  run  diafracted,  if  I  think  any  longer  oi 
the  subject ! 

To  leave  talking  of  the  matter  so  gravely 
I  shall  ling  ttith  the  old  Scots  ballad— 


"Oh  that 


rried. 


Decemter  24rt. 


r  have  lately  collected,  for  a  friend's  pern- 

firit  sketched,  in  a  rough  draught,  and  after- 
wards wrote  out  &ir.    On  looliing  over  some 

I  had  parcelled  by,  as  trash  that  were  scarce 
worth  pfCiertii^,  and  which  yet,  at  the  same 

man]'  of  ttiese  rude  sketches,  and  have 
written,  and  am  writing  them  out,  in  a  bound 
MS.  for  my  friend's  tihrary.  As  I  uTOte 
always  to  yon  the  rhapsody  of  the  moment, 
I  cannot  tind  a  sinjrie  scroll  to  you,  except 

veyauce.  I  would  scud  you  a  pcrusnl  of 


TO    MR.   ALEXANUEB    FINDLATER 
(313). 


— Enclosed  are  the  two  schomes. 
not  have  troubled  you  with  the  cc 

r^ht.  Mr.  EwSine  promised  me  to  mate 
right,  if  you  wUi  liaie  the  goDdiieas  to  sjiu 
■     ■  '    I'e  no  copy  of  llie  scheu 


for  myself,  a 
isiilcrable  fron 


And  that  no 
>,  or  mislead  a 


2StA,  Chris/nios  MtymiitQ 
This,  ray  mueh-lovcd  friend,  is  a  mom 

ne  aa  they  are  sincere  1 — that  blessings  n 
attend  your  steps,  and  altliction  know  ; 

eotlior,  The  Wan  of    Ifeeling,  "May  the    \ 
Great  Spuit  bear  np  the  weight  of  thy  grey 
hairs,  and  blunt  the  arcow  that  Ininga  tbem 

Now  that  I  talk  of  authors,  how  do  von 
like  Cowpet?  Is  not  the  "Task"  agloriona 
poem  ?  The  religion  of  the  "  Task,"  hating 
■  ten  scraps  of  Calvanistic  divinity,  is  the 
Tehgion  of  God  and  Nature— the  religion 
that  exalts,  that  ennobles  man.  Were  not 
le  your  "  Zeluo 


rthrow  the  credit  of 


'    l^m 


Hosted  by  Google 


TO  MCS.  DCNLOP. 


leoched  me.    To  be  drprived  of  nuj 
numbet  of   the  first    newspaper  in  Gfeat    i 
Brilain    for  iaformation,  ebility,  and  inde-    1 

Eendeiiee,  a  what  I  caa  ill  brook  and  bear  ;    ' 
nt  to  be  deprived  of  that  most  admirable 

be  made  the  great,  thougli   ineffectual  a 
tempt  (in  tlie  kr^aife  o(  the  poet,  I  fet 


pe  lo  get  ■  ftant  from  m)-  friend 
liller,  I  si  all  eier;  le  sure  Iiour, 
e  pen  and  g  *s  p  awiy  whatever 


I  have  the  bnnour  to  preside  e 


personage  than 
lier  29lh. 


t  let  me  mislead  yon — 
that  situation  of  hfe, 

n  the  eyes  of 


Dei 

Since  I  hegaa  (his  tett«,  1  have  bee 
pointed  to  act  in  the  capacity  of  anpei 
bete,  and  I  assure  you,  what  with  tlie 

being  new  to  me,  I  could  scarcely  have 

maiided  ten  niinntes  to  have  spoken  to 

you  been  in  ti 


epistle.    This 


'   the  present  incutnbent ;  I 


g  the  ill 


m^,  in  this  distant,  obscure  country  1 

my  wife  and  children,  is  the  Castglu  . 
>  Bhiton;  and  that  scanty,  hard-earned 
iucnme  which  supports  them,  is  w  truly  my 
property,  as  the  most  maguilicent  fortune  i  ' 


lime  sLuId 


TO  MRS.  DUNLOP, 


Dun^a,  20th  Bectmber,  ITflS, 
I  HAVE  been  prodigiously  disappointed  in 
this  London  journey  of  youts.     In  the  first 
place,  nhen  your  last  to  me  reached  Dun 
fries,  I  was  '-■    '^-  "     "  " 


r,  (tJew.year's-day  is 


ITiis  is  the  a 
ray  date)    of  wishei 
fcrteatly  offered 
you  be  a  positive 

greatly  prolonged,  is  my  wish  for  my  own 


friends  1 
Very  lately  I 


d  for  the  sake  of  ll 
What 


of  y, 


t'other  . 


is  life? 


10  Isli 


I,  and    did  II 


in  the  next  place,  I  tbougliC  you  , 

tainly  take  this  route ;  and  now  I  knon  not 
what  ia  become  of  you,  or  uhelher  this  may 
reach  you  at  all.  God  grant  thai  it  may 
find  you  and  yours  in  pi 
good  spirits !  Do  let  m 
loouest  possible. 


already  begin  Co 
.,jj,u  .....u  „.,v,  .tilfeniug  joints  of 
coming  Sist  o'er  my  frame.  With 
follies  of  youth,  and  I  fear,  a  few 
manhood,  still  I  congratulate  myself 
ig  bad,  in  early  days,  rebgion  strongly 
li  on  my  mind.  I  have  nothing  la 
ny  one  as  to  which  sect  be  belonga 

I  who  is  firmly  persuaded  of  iafinito 


iig  anchor  of  hope,  when  he  lucks  beyond 
^"'"'  /oBBary  iSlh. 

oa  win  have  seen  our  worthy  and  ingo- 
s  friend,  tho  doctor,  long  ere  this.  1 
:  he  is  well,  and  beg  to  be  remembered 
im.    I  have  just  been  reading  over  lu-us,. 


Ho,t,db,  Google 


440 


I  dan  sty  tot  tb*  huniireil  and  fiftieth 

hb  Vkib  of  Sodels  and  M       

I  wad  it  with  delighc  Hi 
fcctly  original — ic  is  neitlier  iiic  uuiuu 
Addison,  iim  Swift,  nor  Steriie,  nor  of 
body  hnt  l>r.  Moore.  By  the  hye,  yon 
deprived  me  of  Zflnco;  remember  that,  i 
yon  ere  disposed  to  mke  up  the  sins  ol 
ue^ect  from  among  the  aahea  of  my  laii 


COBRESPOSDENCE   OF  BURS8. 
id  still 


He 
quoliua  11 


-u  (213i. 


inthat  pMCofGn's 
to  approach  you,  nt 
but  with  frat 


what. 


probability,  you  wil 
]  haie  the  merit  of  no 


youar 

but  a.       ..  . 

rtiortlybe.    V/t 

deserting  our  fbeBOS  lo  cue  nay  oi  tneir 

ealmnity,  mid  you  will  baye  the  Batisfactioii 

of  perusing,  St  least,  one  honest  address. 

Ton  ate  well  acquBiuted  with  !he  dissection 

of  human  nature  \    nor  do  you  need  tbe 

assisUuice  of  a  felbw-cteature'a  bosom  to 

ioform  you,  that  man  is  always  a  aelfiah. 


perieucQ  of  youth  moy  deny  it,  thi 

will  feel  You  are  a  alatesnuui,  anc 
quenlly  ate  not  ignorant  of  the  ti 
-these  corporation  compbmeols.  Tb 
great  man  who  drives  the  buroujjh  to 
wid  the  very  great  man  who  buya  the  1 


of  a  man's  friends  on  the  morning  of  his 
:«xei:utio]i ;  they  take  a  decent  farewell ; 
Teugn  you  to  your  fate ;  and  hurry  away 
bom  your  approaching'  boor. 


mistaken,  you  are  about  tc 
om  that  world  where  tlie 
gilda  the  paths  of  prospt 
C  us,  great  Sir,  with  tbe  s 
-feeluig,  to  hml  yoar  past 


I  make  vmr 
sun  of  glad- 
Tous  men: 
lympathy  of 

eri  from  the 

Aisimma. 

^hildofmisfor- 


In  this  light,  Sir,  our  downfall  may  be  again 
nseful  to  you:  though  not  exactly  in  Clie 
same  way,  it  is  not,  periiaps,  the  first  rime 
it  has  i:ratided  your  feelings.  It  is  true, 
the  triumph  of  your  evil  star  is  eiceedinaly 
despiteful.  At  an  age  when  others  arc  the 
vDiaries  of  pleasure,  or  underlings  is  bnsmes^ 
yon  had  attained  the  highest  wish  of  a 
British  statesman ;  and  with  tlie  ordinary 
date  of  human  life,  what  a  prospect  was 
before  you!  Deeply  rooted  in  la ml favoar, 
you  uvcfshsdowed  the  land.  1  he  buds  of 
passage  which  Sillow  miDisCensl  enashina 
through  every  dime  of  politioni  faith  and 
moniiers,  flocked  to  your  branchea ;  tuid  the 
beasts  of  the  field  (tbe  lordly  possessors  of 
'  '  ider  your  shade, 
holy  one,  canw 


ys)  crotrded  m 


;  Hew 


s,  and  scatter 


ihake  oti  his  1 
his  fruit;  let  the  beasts  get  away  Iroin  under 

blow  fkom  nn  untlionght-of  quarter,  one  of 
those  terrible  accidents  which  peculiarly 
mark  the  hand  of  Omnipotence,  overset  your 
career,  and  laid  all  yonr  fancied  honours  in 
the  dust.    But  turn  your  eyes.  Sir,  to  the 

that  for  many  ages  had  gallantly  maintained 
the  unequal  struggle  for  independence  with 
her  much  more  powerful  neighbour,  at  last 
agrees  to  a  union  which  should  ever  after 
make  them  one  people.    In  consideration  of 


the  former  should  enjoy  a  stipulated  alTevii^ 


le  Excise,  This  just  privilege  hs 
M  great  nmbrage  to  some  incerea 
1  individuals  of  the  more  potent 


of  tlie  apui 

ofthwa 

■nt  enemies 

In  this 

«nspu™y 

did  ws 

■lone    auffec^our' 

try 

waa 

deeply 

Ho,t,db,  Google 


TO  MRS.  DDHtOP. 


ttmindel  A  number  of  (we  will  say) 
reapectable  individuals,  largely  eoga^ed  i 
hade,  where  wB  were  not  only  UBctul,  bi 
absolulely  ncceasary,  to  oar  country  in  bt 
dearest  intoresta ;  we,  with  all  tb»t  uaa  nei 
and  deac  to  ua,  were  aacrificed,  withou 
remorse,  to  the  infernsl  deity  of  political  ei 
uediency  !  We  felt  to  gratify  tbe  wishes  of 
dark  eiivy,  and  tbe  views  of  unprincipled 
oiabition  I  Yoor  foes.  Sir,  were  avowed ; 
were  too  braye  to  take  an  ungenerous  advan- 
tage i  yBK  fell  in  tbe  face  of  day.  On  tbe 
eontiary,  our  euemies,  to  complete  our  ovet- 
thtow.  contrived  to  make  tbeir  guilt  appear 
tbe  villany  of  a  nation.  Your  downfall  only 
dn^a  witb  yon  your  private  frieada  and 
purtisuii :  in  our  tnisery  are  more  or  less 
involved  the  most  numerons  and  most  valu- 
able part  of  tbe  coniniunity—atl  tbose  wbo 
immediately  depend  on  the  cultivation  of 
tiis  aoil,  from  the  landlord  of  a  province 
down  to  bia  lowest  bind. 

Allow  ua.  Sir,  yet  furtber,  just  to  Iiint  at 
■notber  rieb  rein  of  comfort  in  the  dreary 
r^ons  of  adversity— the  gratulations  of  an 
^iproiing  eonsdence.  In  a  certain  ^eat 
issembly,  of  wbich  you  are  a  distinguiabed 
member,  panegyrica  on  your  private  virtues 
have  so  often  wounded  your  delicacy,  that, 
WB  shall  not  distresi  yon  with  anything  on 
tbe  Bubject.  Tliere  is,  however,  one  part  of 
your  public  conduct  which  out  ffeelings  will 
not  permit  us  to  pass  in  silence ;  our  grati- 
tude mnst  trespass  on  your  modesty;  we 
mean,  worthy  Sir,  your  whole  behaviour  to 


Ifir^  family,  and  very  stinted  income,  to 
give  my  young  ones  that  education  I  wish, 
at  the  bigb-school  fees  which  a  stranger  piy% 
will  bear  hard  upon  me. 

Some  years  ago  your  good  town  did  me 
tbe  honour  of  n^ng  me  an  honorary  bur- 
gess. Will  yon  allow  me  to  request  that 
this  mark  of  distuiction  may  eitend  so  la 
as  to  put  me  on  a  footing  of  a  real  freeman 
(rf  the  town,  in  tbe  sehools  ? 

If  you  are  ao  very  kind  as  to  grant  my 

tive  to  me  to  attain  every  nerve  where  I  can 
ofFicialiy  serve  you  i  and  will,  if  possible, 
ase  that  gratefnl  respect  with  wliich  I 


TO    SIRS,    RIDDEL. 
Damfdea,  JaaHan/  20ih,  1796. 
I  tiANNOT  express  ray  gratitude  to  you 

ebacsia."  lu  fact,  I  never  met  with  a  book 
that  bewitched  me  so  mnch;  and  I,  as  a 
membsr  of  the  library,  roust  warmly  feel 


laid    us 

Indeed,  to  me  the  obligation  is  stronger  than 
to  any  other  individual  of  our  society ;  ta 
" Anacharsis  "  is  an  indispensable  deuderatum 

The  health  you  wished  me  in  your  raoru- 

ever.  I  have  not  been  able  to  leave  my  bed 
to.day  till  about  an  hour  aga  These 
wickedly  unlucky  advertisements  I  lent  (1  did 
wron^)  to  a  friend,  and  I  am  ill  able  to  go 


iuquesl 


iorsaken  me. 


■10  THE  HON.  THE  PROVOST, 
BAILIES,  AND  TOWN  COUNCIL  OP 
DtlMPRIEH. 


school),  as  to  make  it  a  very  great  object  toi 
a  parent  to  have  bis  children  educated  it 
them.     Still,  to  me,  a  stranger,  with  my 


TO   MRS.    DUNLOP. 
Xhmifiies,  Jamuay  31*i,  1796. 

ackela  in  my  debt — what  sin  of  ignorance 
friend,  I  am  utterly  at  a  loss  to  guda. 


Ho,t,db,  Google 


asl  K 


le  depriyed  of  lay  0 


COEEESrONDENCE  OF  BTJENS. 
[  sffotd,  at  this  1 


ihe! 


lately  Jc 


01  tbE  cap  oi  amicuon.  ine  auiitmn  cobbed 
me  of  my  oiilv  dau^bter  and  darling  thild 
(217),  and  that  at  a  distance,  too,  and  so 
rapidly,  m  to  put  it  out  of  my  power  to  pey 
the  last  duties  to  her.  I  had  scarcely  be^a 
to  recover  from  that  ahocit,  uben  I  became 
myself  the  victim  of  a  most  severe  rheumatic 
(ever,  and  long  the  die  spun  doubtful ;  uuiil, 
^tcr  many  "eeks  of  a  sick-bed,  it  aeema  to 
hace  turned  up  life,  and  I  am  bepnninj  to 
crawl  Bcrosa  my  room,  and  ono:,  indeed, 
have  been  before  my  ouu  door  in  the  street. 
When  ple»aace  fesdoates  the  mental  sight. 

Affliction  nuriSes  the  visual  ray, 
BeligioD  hails  the  drear,  the  iiutried  iii^ht, 

And  shuts,  for  eier  shuts!  life's  diiubiful 
day.  R.  B. 


MR.  THOMSON   TO  BURNS. 

Febramy  Olh,  1796. 

Oh  Hobby  Burns,  are  ye  sleeping  yet? 

Or  are  ye  wauking,  1  would  wit? 

The  pause  you  have  made,  my  dear  Sir, 
la  awful  I  Am  I  never  to  hear  from  you 
ajiaiii?  I  know,  and  I  lament  how  much 
you  have  been  sfBicted  of  late ;  but  I  tcuat 
that  leturning  lieaith  and  spirits  will  now 
enable  you  to  resume  the  pen,  and  delight 
09  with  your  musings.  I  have  still  about  a 
dosen  Scotch  and  Irish  airs  that  I  wish 
'married  to  immortal  verse."  We  liave 
several  true-born  Irishmen  on  the  Scottish 

reckoned  our  own  good  subjects.  Indeed, 
we  have  none  better.  I  believe  I  before  told 
yoa  that  I  liaie  been  mnch  urged  by  some 
friends  to  publish  a  coltectioD  of  alt  our 


BtTRNS    TO  ME.  THOMSON. 
Ftbfuarg.  1796 
Many  thanlis,  my  dear  Sir,  tor  your  hai 


'.    Rndal, 


II  cheerfully  undertake 


IHerejaiam  "Hesfar  o  iuj  ic?  o  tocher.") 

If  this  will  do,  you  have  now  fi>ur  of  my 

Irish  eugagement.    In  my  by-past  songs  I 


lame  Cbloria— I 
ant  it  as  the  fictitious  name  of  a  certain 
ly :  but,  on  second  thong  . 
■onaruity  to  ba'e  a  Greek  appellation  I 
:tttisb  pastoral  ballad     '^  ■"    ■  '         ■ 


ned    ( 


o  propose.    What  yoB  once  m 

*    JU!' 


they 


MR,   THOMSON   TO  BTJENS. 

most  excellent    song,  and    with    you    1 
subject  is  somelbing  new  indeed.    It  ia  1 


I  am  happy  t( 
proposed  ocwvo  e 
and  etched  about 
have  "    " 


euty  plaK 


Independently  of  the  Hogartbiau  hnmour 
with  which  they  abound,  they  exhibit  the 
character  and  costume  of  the  Scottish  pea- 
santry with  inimitable  feliaty.  In  this 
respect,  he  himself  says,  they  will  fiir  exceed 
the  aquatiuta  plates  he  did  for  the  G^Ile 
Shepherd,  because  in  the  etching  he  eeea 
clearly  what  he  is  doing,  but  not  so  with  the 
aquatinta,  wbicli  he  could  not  manage  to  bis 
mind. 

The  Dutch  boots  of  Ostade  are  scarcely 
more  characteristic  anit  natural  tbau  the 
Scottish  ligures  in  those  etchings. 


Ho,t,db,  Google 


BURSS  TO   MR.   THOMSON. 

t   faniilj',  to  yoOT  fiiendB, 


BURNS  TO  MR.  THOMSON. 

April,  1796. 
Atkil   my  dear  Thomsun,  I  feat  it  wil 

'By  Baiwl  alreams  1  haie  sat  ond  nept 
almost  ever  since  I  wrnte  you  last ;  I  hav 
only  known  exiaience  by  the  preaaute  of  th 

time  by  the  tepercuaaioiia  of  pair  I     Rheg 

a  terihie  combination.    I  close  my  eyes  i] 


Say  wherefore  has  ai 


Tliia 


diligent  heivei 


le  comfoHlosi  aud  wieiehcd  [■ 
)  yon  hy  a 


atiatady  of  the  I 
wuicii  lor  these  many  years  iiaa  uteu  my 
houae^  and  where  our  friend  Clarke  and  I 
have  liEid  many  a  merry  aqiifczo.  1  am 
hij^bly  delighted  viih  Mr.  Allan's  etchings. 

The  grouping  is  beyond  all  praise,  'i'be 
eipKBsiou  of  the  liguies,  cfHiformable  to  the 
■toiy  in  the  ballad,  ia  ibaolutely  fanltleaa 
perfcotion.  I  next  admire  "Tnniimspike." 
What  I  like  least  ia  "  Jenny  suld  to  Jock.v," 
Berides  the  female  being  in  her  appearance 
*  •  •  *  *,  if  you  take  her  stooping  into  the 


■     lov. 


Cleghurn !  I 
latnias  situ  him.  Haiipy  I 
lit  be  yet  bat  a  well-gironnded 


MR  THOMSON  TO  BUBNa. 
May  ilb,  179( 
I  NFED  not  tell  yon  my  good  Sir,  w 
concern  the  receipt  of  your  lust  gate 


«  of  B  life  10  raluabiB  to 


BURNS  TO  MK.  THOSfSON. 


{Ihrefblloa  Ih"  three  frsl  ftntisca  rf  (*e 
aoifg :  the  fourth  Ktis  found  anioug  Aia  iI3S. 
aflet  hit  dealt} 


BURNS  TO  MB.  THOMSON, 


have  a  apaie  half  bout  to  spend 
shall  place  your  kindneaa  to  my 


le  taken  s  fancy  to 
osaibly  may  mend 
you  hace  complete 


■isure,  I  will    th'i 
riginals  ot  copies.  i219) 


ten  otherwise.  1  have  gnat  hopes  thi 
geuial  iiiSueuce  of  the  approaching  sui 
v'lll  set  me  to  rights,  hut  bs  3'et  I  a 


Id  like  much  to  hear  Ixoai  you. 


Ho,t,db,  Google 


COERESPONDENCE  OF  BTIRSS. 


TO  MKS.  RIDDEL, 


me  the  north  I    Would  you  hi' 
drenmstaiicpa  copy  you  ~  -  -  ' 


<,  June  4th,  17^. 
le  besUli  u  ta  be 
vinfT  my  loyalty  in 
a  with  rheumntisin, 

jrreetiiiK,  Hke  tliat 
B  me,  Jacob;   and 

H"  Bay  I — Come, 
od  arme,iety 


!  me  ID  aueb 
Satutday,  hnt 


TO  Mil,  CLAEKE, 


Damflia,  Jane  S6lh,  1790. 

Mt  Dear  Cl*kkk— Still,  the  victim  o 

affliction  I     Were  you  to  see  the  eoiaciatei 


t  shaU  e\ 
to  Him 


Alas,  Clarke!  I  he{,^D  to  feu  tho 
worst.  Aa  to  my  iudividual  self,  I  am  trau. 
qoi],  and  would  deapiie  myself  if  I  ivere  not; 
but  BuTus'i  pooc  lidoff,  and  half-t-doiea 

there    1    am    weak,    ai    a    vomau's    tear. 
Enough  of  this  I     "fia  half  ot  niy  disease. 

I  duly  leceivad  yonr  laat,  endoaing  the 
note.  It  came  eilieniel;  ia  time,  and  I  am 
much  obliged  by  youi  puuctuality.  A^ain 
I  must  request  you  to  do  me  the  tame  kind- 
"-  -T  %-ery  good     -   '"■  "' —    " 


post  li 


laatief  I 


vHX  seriously  obhs;e  me.     If  T  must  go,  J 

I  aball  regiet  white  conaoiousueas  teraabis, 

Adieu,  dear  Clarke.    That  I  sliall  ever  see 
you  Bguu,  is,  i  am  afraid,  highly  improbable 
E.  B, 


..   JAMES    JOHNSON, 


,/»(S4(S,179a, 

,mjdea 

friend,  ai,d  how 

s  on  your 

HFth  voumc!       You    may 

ably  think 

that  for 

some  time  past  I 

neglected 

you  and 

your  work;    bnt. 

the  band 

of  pam 

has  these 

many  mo 

nibs  lain  heavy  on 
-alic  affliction  have 

Personal 

u,d<lonv 

St  entirely 

banished 

that  ahumty  and 

re  a  good,  worthy,  honest  fellow, 
:  a  good  ri);ht  to  live  in  this  world 
e  you  deserve  it.  Many  a  merry 
this  pubbcation  has  given  us,  and 


re  be  lias  veil  reached  his  middle  careei, 
will  turn  over  the  poet  to  far  more  im- 
int  cDucerns  than  studying  the  hrilliani^ 
it,  or  the  paChoa  of  sentiment.  How- 
liofe  ii  the  cordial  of  the  buioan  lieart 


TO  ME,  CUNN 


Hosted  by  Google 


10  MES,  BTJNLOP. 


If 

of 'the 

baid  will 

leard  among 

re.    For 

torte»moutt 

1 

flVPh 

in  ailing, 

,  bedfet,  wid 

three  monthB 

ha 

febee 

tortured 

reduced  me  to  oeuly  the  last  st»^.  Yd 
eotually  would  not  kuow  me  if  you  saw  mi 
Pale.emacioted.and  ao  feeble,  as  occasionBll 
to  need  help  from  Che  chair  —  my  spirit 
fled !  fled !— hut  I  cau  no  more  on  the  sul 

^l  only  the  medical  folks  tell  me  that  m 
and  only  chance  ia  bathing,  and  countr 


duty,  hia 

i>  reduced  to  £35  mstead 

of  £SD. 

What 

n  the  name  of  thrift, 

■haUIm 

in  tain 

mysdf  and  keep  a  horse  ia 

coaDtry  quartets 

with 

a  wife,  and  five  ehil- 

dreiiat 

ome. 

n  £33?     I  mention  this. 

hadi 

tended  to  be"  your  utmost 

and    that  of 

aJI  the  tViends  you 

can  must 

E       M 

full  salary;  I  dare 

w   hem 

Brsonally.    If  they 

.),  I  mnst  ky  my 

»  h 

truly  e»   pofff— it 

I   d      n 

must  perish  nith 

h    «e 

I  h 

of  the  wiuRa ;  the 

not  serve  me  with. 

•ndiha 

hm 

iditjou.  A-propoa 

tob     s 

h  m 

Mrs  Bums  threatens  in 

ireek 

paer  al 

which     if    of    the    ri^rht 

gend 

hal 

e  introduced  to  the 

w     d    b 

pe 

A         de 

C 

an«.    Mj  last  was 

TO  MK.  GILBERT  BURNS. 


ig,  and  I  will  contitiue  there,  m  m  a 

friend's  house  in  the  country,  nil  the  sum- 

r.    God  keep  my  wife  and  children :  if  I 

taken  from  their  head,  they  will  be  poor 


HO.  CCCLXXVIL 

TO  MRS,  BURNa 

Brow,  Thaniag, 
My  DEABESf  lovE — I  delayed  writing 
until  I  could  t«l1  ynu  what  effect  aea-batbini' 

to  deny  that  it  has  ea^ed  my  pains,  and  I 
think  has  alrengtheneil  me ;  but  my  appetite 
is  atill  extremely  bad.  No  Beah  nor  fish 
can  I  swallow:  porrid^  and  milk  are  the 
only  thing  I  can  taste.  1  am  very  happy 
to  hear,  by  Sliss  Jess  Lewars,  that  yon  are 
aU  well.  My  -very  best  and  kindest  com- 
pliments to  her,  and  to  all  the  children.  I 
wQl  ace  you  ou  Sunday,  Your  affectionate 
husband,  ^  B. 


TO  MRS.  DUNI/)P. 


July  101*.  1736. 

was  a  frieudahip  dearest  to  my  soul.    Your 
conversation,  and    especially    your    corres. 

Deae  Bkother— It  will   be    no   >ery 

pleasing  news  to  you  to  he  t<rid  that  1  am 

and  inatructive.    With  wlat  pleasure  did  I 

dangerously  ill,  and  not  likely  to  get  bettor. 

use  to  break  up  the  seal  I      The  remem- 

hrance    yet    adds    one   pulse  more  to  my 

to  auch  a  state  of  debility,  and  my  appetite 

poor  palpitating  heart.    Farewell  [ ! ! 

u  so  totally  gone,  thnt  I  cau  aeareely  stand 

E.  B.  [332) 

Ho,t,db,  Google 


TO  MR  JAMES  BUKNES3, 


Jhmfrka,  My  UOt,  1796. 
Ml  rsAB  Cousin— When  you  offered 
toe  money  assistance,  Iktle  did  I  think  I 
ehoutd  nsnt  it  so  soon.  A  tascal  ot  a 
haberdasher,  to  whom  I  owe  a  considerable 
bill,  taking  it  into  ]iis  head  that  I  am  dyin^, 
bas  commenced  •  process  igainst  me,  aiid 
"■  '  ' nadated  body  inl 


jail.     Will  yoik  be 


Lt  by  r. 


of  p. 


pride  of  my  heart,  you  wouH  feel  doubly  for 
tne!  Alas  I  I  sm  not  used  to  beg.  The 
worst  of  it  is,  my  health  was  coining  about 
finely,  yoa  know ;  and  my  physician  assured 
m^  that  melancholy  and  low  apuits  are  half 

Ihia  business  began.  If  I  had  it  $ettlcd,  I 
would  be,  I  tbitik.  quite  well  m  s  manner. 


cuist  comioand. 

I  have  been  thinkhig  over  and  o 
brother's  affairs,  and  I  fear  1  must 
np ;  but  on  this  I  will  correapoiul  at 
time,  particularly  aa  I  shall  [requu: 


return  of  poat ; — save  me  from  the  ho 
a  jail  1(2231 

My  complimenta  to  my  friend  Jam 
toell  therest.     I  do  not  know -'--' 


■sity's 


subject  ia  80  horrible,  1  dare 


BURNS  TO  ME.  THOMSON. 
Brow,  ™  lAe  SoIwiiil-frUh, 


It  all  1 


\th.  17B8. 
y  boasted  independence,  curat 


pounds.  A  cruel  Htetcb  of  a  haberdasher 
to  whom  I  owe  an  account,  tatiu^  it  into  hii 
head  that  I  am  dying,  has  commenced  i 

Do,  for' God's  sake,  send  me  that  sum,  am 
that  by  ceturn  of  post,    forgive  me  tht 


OF  BURNS. 

eameatnesB,  but  the  horrors  of  a  jail  ban 
made  me  half  diitnicled,  I  do  not  ask  all 
this  jratuitously ;  for,  upon  returning  health, 
I  hereby  promise  and  engage  to  furnish  you 
with  five  pounds'  worth  of  (he  neatest  aong- 
genius  you  have  seen.  I  tried  my  hand  on 
"  Rothumurebe  "  this  morning.  The  mea- 
sure is  so  dillicnlt  that  it  is  impossible  to 


ters  by  Mrs   Hyslop,  I 

Jleviaie  jour  sufferings. 

Again  and  again  I  thought  of  a  i^uuiary 
offer,  but  the  recollection  of  one  of  your 
letters  on  this  subject,  uid  the  ftuir  of  ofitod- 
jug  your  independent  spint,  cliccked  my 
resolution.  I  tliaiik  you  heartily,  tlier^or^ 
for  the  fronknest  of  your  letter  of  the  ISth, 
and,  with  great  pleasure,  enclose  a  draft  fbr 
the  very  sum  1  proposed  sending  (22fi). 
Would  I  were  Cbauccltor  of  the  ISxcbequer 
but  ft>r  one  day,  for  your  sake  I 

Pray,  my  good  Sir,  is  it  not  possible  for 
volume  of  poetry  ?    It  too 


miglit  be 


much  trouble  to  you,  in 

your  health,  some  hterary  fHcnc 

found  here,  who  would  select  a 

from  yoar  manuscripts,  and  take  upon  mm 

could  be  ad'ertiscd  to  be  published  by  sub- 

Fope  published  tlie  Iliad  by  subscription, 
lliiiik  of  this,  my  dear  Bums,  and  do  not 
reckon  me  mtiuaive  with  my  advice.  You 
are  too  well  convinced  of  the  reajiect  and 
friendship  I  bear  your  to  impute  anything  I 
say  to  aa  unworthy  motive.  Yours  faith* 
fully. 

aiie  verses  to  "  Eotbermurche "  will 
answer  finely,  I  am  happy  to  see  you  can 
still  tiine  yuur  lyre. 


Ho,t,db,  Google 


TO  JAMES  AEMOUIt. 


TO  JAMES  GEACIE,  Esq. 

Brine,  Wedneadgy  tworniitff, 
July  16iA,  use. 
Mt  Dkak  Sib— It  wonld  ba  do'ng 
hi9;h  injustice  to  Ibis  plsce  not  to  adtitaw- 
Jedge  tliat  my  rheanmtism  bas  derived  great 
benefits  ftoiii  it  already;  but,  alas!  my 
lo3S  of  appetite  still  continues,  I  shall  not 
need  yoot  kind  oSei  tliis  meek  (226).  and  I 
letutn  to  tonn  the  beginning  of  neit  week, 
it  not  b^ng;  a  tide  neek,  1  am  detaining  a 
man  in  ft  bUTOing  hurry.    So,  God  bless 


RB. 


TO  JAMES  ARMOUR  (227), 


Dmiifi-iei,  Jh/j,  IBi*,  1T9B. 


wife  is  hourly  eipecting  to  be  ] 
Good  God !  nbat  a  situation  foi 
in,  poor  gitl.  «itbout  a  friend  1 


Ho,t,db,  Google 


Ho,t,db,  Google 


'iMt3 


Ho,t,db,  Google 


Ho,t,db,  Google 


&te  ta  i\}t  lift  nf  %um. 


Pasb   4,  Note  1.— To  account   for 
Bj-eiutenCB  of  a  taale  for  dancing,  n 
■nd  song,  with  the  austere  religioua  fet     _. 
tbove  described,  we  must  bear  in  mind  tbat    : 
the  latter  are  not  of  such  long  (landing, 
having  only  existed  in  ^at  force  since  the 
timeoftliediila'aia.  It  13  also  to  be  observed,    ] 
that  those  tastes  and  those  feelings  did  no      ' 
idiriys  possess  the  same  minds.    Thronghou 
tlte  moat  rigid  ttmes,  the  yonng  formed  1 
paitjwhom  the  promptings  o(  nature  com 
pelled  to  favour  miithfal  recreation  and  the 
productions  of  the    muse,  all    preachings    1 
from  the  old  notwithstandmg.      Then    " 
EpiseopaJian  01    Jacobilo  party,  form 
l^K  and    important    esceptiou   from 

mly  dandng  and  song, 

4,  Note  2.— Till  a  recent  periot 

ihereignof  Geo^el.,  the 

iah  music  was  a  matter  of 

Even  the  remark  in  the 


sequent 
colleetioo  oC 


the  Befotmation,  inr^uding  some 

flourish,  is  at  length  ascertained, 

of  the  discovery  of  an  MS. 

rs,  which  belonged  Co  Sir 


em  nearly  unacquainted  with  tli 
poetry  and  mu5ic,— See  fVel 
e  quote  this  as  an  eiplanslory 


sttichmait 


been  wriitwi  about  the  year  ia!0.    See 
elegant  and    laborious    work  by    Willi 
Dauncy,  Esq.,  Advocate,  Ito.,  1838. 
Page  5,  Note  3.— The  North  Ameri 


IS  much  evidence  of  comfort  in 

of  Imng      Tl  ere  has  been  a 

id  progress  made  m  agricultural  sei 

scially  amongst  the  Lowland  farm! 


e  laboi 


ing  c 


ipon  an  equal  footing  in  respect  of  means 
comforts    in  both  portions   of    great 

nied  and  educated  in  Scotland.  Suppo- 
Buig  the  remark  to  be  reserved  to  the  holders 
of  land,  or  the  capitahst  peasantry,  a< 
them,  the  distinction  t"  '■■-  — 


Paob  7,  Note  7. — The  rapid  men 


Ho,t,db,  Google 


BOTES  TO  THE 


ited  by  s 


mporaiy: 


stilled  i 


Scotland  is  now  upwatda  of  £250.000 
annum.    lu  1777,  it  did  not  reach  £8000." 
Alloning  tor  the  dilference  of  values,  and  of 
a  levied,  there  ia  yet  an 

mdepeadeotly  of  all 


r  tcale  of  d 


™ly  fen 


■i  tiquoH 


fortned  of  the 

■umption  of  intoiicsting  beverages.  Tailing 
■gun  the  returns  of  distillery  for  183^  we 
ha>e  H  gro99  of  S,407,0»7  gallons,  ti.d  an 
■gsregaCe  duty  of  neaiiy  ■  miUkm  sterling. 

Faqb  11,  NOTB  S. — According  to  same 
•utborities,  the  hit  heroine  of  this  young 
passion  was  called  Nelly  Blair.  The  luiea 
which  immortalized    her  »re    those  which 

Paob  12,  Note  9.— In  October,  1S37, 
tlte  editor  conversed  at  Tarbolton  with  John 
Leeg,  shoemaker,  who,  when  a  stripling,  used 


mounted  on  his  shoulders,  and  his  tf^ 
prosch  announced  by  tlie  bursts  of  merri- 
ment which  his  ready  and  rough  jokes  had 
eicited  Biuongat  the  group.  It  was  always 
eipecled  that  some  new  elfusion  of  his 
muse  should  be  produced  to  promote  the 
enjoyment  of  the  party,  and  aeldom  were 
they  diaappoinled,  '  Rob  £urns's  last 
night's  poem'  generally  reaching  the  parlour 
in  the  course  of  Ihe  neit  day,     it  the 

land  proprietor)  Bums's  visits  were  of  such 

frequency  and  duration  as  to  call  down  the 

animadrersions  oF  the  lady  of  the  Itouse,  the 

alertness  of  her  damsels  in  the  morning 

being  at  limes  impaired  by  his  uureasonabta 

gallantry,    'lliis  was  supposed  to  be  occa- 

sionerl  by  a  penahant  he  had  formed  tor  ■ 

certain  Nelly  Blair,  a  pretty  girl,  a  aervont 

'     the  fkmily,  and  whom  he  celebrated  in 

>te  songs  and  odes  than  her  name  eppeata 

;    the  only  one  likely  to  be  applied  to  hw 

w,  being  one  which  he  himself  tranacrihes, 

a  letter  to  Mr.  Thomson,  as  one  of  bis 

liest  effusions,  and  of  which  his  '  Uand- 

ne  Nelt,'  I  think,  forms  the  burden.    My 

'    friend  describes  hint  as  being  considered  at 


Trap,  and  Burns  would  say,  "  Now,  Jack,  ye 

■espondent  of 

IS  recollections  of  Bums 
in  his  early  rustic  years ; — "  He  was  par- 
ticularly distin^ished  at  that  spedes  of 
meny-making  colled  '  Bockinga,'  which  are 
frequently  alluded  to  in  his  writings.    This 

the  change  of  manners  will  have  suppressed 


Page  12,  Note  11.— The  songs  ui  qnea. 
on  are  respectively  identiHed  by  the  Urst 


S,  "  Beiiind  you  hills  where  Lugar  flows." 
Paqe  13,  Note  12.— One  Eiohard  Brown, 
10  however  lived  until  within  the  last  few 
irs,  and  was    latterly  held    in   general 


Page  13,  Note  13.— 


were  allowed,  during  moonlighl^  to  meet 
alternately  at  their  respective  houses,  eaidi 
lass  thriftily  carrying  with  her  the  apmning- 
wheel,  and,  while  the  song  and  the  tale  went 
tound,  never  failii^  to  complete  her  assigned 
task  of  spinning ;  the  lads,  in  the  meanwhile, 
being  as  busily  employed  in  knitting  tiie 
stockiug !  (he  enterlainment  ending  with  a 


of  three  or  fbar  miles,  with 
•vlied  of  bis  bvourite,  for  tt 


tbetwe 

Cumnock,  and  now  (1S3S)  residing  at 
Kilmarnock,  was  for  Kiur  years  and  a  half 
farm-servant  in  the  Burns  family  at 
Lochlee  and  Moasgiel  With  Robert  Bums, 
who  was  eight  years  his  senior,  he  al^t  for 
a  long  time  in  tlie  same  bed,  in  tie  stable 
lafl,  at  Mosagiel. 


.  little  d 


antly  hesi 


a  drawer 


e  bed. 


with  a  small  d 

best  of  his  poems  were  here  written  during 

the  hours  of  rest ;  the  table-drawer  heing 
.    the  depository  in  which  he  kept  them.    To 

think  of  the  Cotter's  Saturday  Night,  the 
.  I  Lament,  and  the  Vision,  b«ug  written  in 


Ho,t,db,  Google 


LIFE  OF  BURNS. 


u&lt  ruin 


the  poor  garret 

Be  used  la  employ  Btene  Co  read  the  iiucum 
to  hizD,  jiameilialely  after  theiT  cotupositjoii, 
that  he  angbt  be  able  the  more  efectunny 
to  delect  faults  in  them.  When  dissitisfied 
with  *  particular  pisaaje,  he  would  stop  ^le 
readiag,  make  an  allerilion,  and  theii  desire 
hia  companion  to  proceed.  Blane  wu  often 
awakened  by  him  during  the  ni^ht,  that  he 
might  terve  him  in  this  capacity.  It  is  to 
be  gathered  from  the  old  man's  convetsotion, 
that  the  bard  of  Ayr  was  a  most  r^d 
critic  of  his  own  compositionJi,  and  batiied 
many  with  which  he 

PaOE    14,  NCKTE 


WilKE 


.Miss  Itele 
Page'_"14,  Note  17.— There  are 


wiiUng;  and  one  of  these,  evidently  cor- 
rected, is  in  the  book  in  which  he  had 
copied  several  of  his  letters.  This  has  been 
used  for  the  press,  with  some  oiniasions,  and 
one  alight  iteration  su^ested  by  Gilbert 
J3urn9. 

Paqe  H,  Note  IS.— This  honse  is  on 
the  ri^ht-hand  side  of  the  road  l^om  Ayr  to 
Maybole,  which  forms  a  p^t  of  the  road 
ftom  Glasgow  to  Port-Patrick.  When  the 
poet's  father  afternards  removed  ta  Tarbol- 
ton  parish,  he  sold  his  loaaehold  right  in 

to  the  corporation  of  shoemakers  in  Ayr. 
It  is  no«  a  country  ale.lionse. 

Paoe  15,  Note  19.— Mn.  Burns,  the 
mother  of  Eobert  Burns,  survived  to  the 


Paoe  15,  Note  21.— The  ftrm  alluded  to 
vaa  Mount  Ohphaot  in  the  parish  of  Ayr. 
The  passage  is  quoted  from  a  lelter  from  G. 
Bums  to  Mra,  Dnniop. 

Page  IS,  Note  22.- The  reading  from 
Titus  Adtonicui,  was  from  the  revolting 
pDSsage.-^Act  ii.  Sc.  E. 

Paqh  17,  Note  23,— Mr.  Terniant,  of 
Ayr.  one  of  tlie  few  surviving  early  friends 
of  Burns,  has  the  following  recollections 
respecting  him : — "  He  first  knew  the  poet, 
when  attending  Mr.  Murdoch's  school  at 
Ayr,  he  being  then  fifteen,  and  Bums  a  year 
and  a  half  older.  Burns  and  he  were  fii- 
vourite  pupils  of  Murdoch,  who  used  to  take 
them  alternately  to  live  with  hiin,  allowing 
them  a  share  of  his  bed.  Mr.  Slnrdoch 
was  a  well.informed  and  tealons  teacher — a 
particularly  good  French  scholar,  insomuch 
that  he  at  one  time  tai^ht  the  laoguage  in 


To  this  preailei 
probably  owing 
ntueh  French,  a 

Murdoch  was  k 


s  letters. 


t,  while  they  were  lyuig 
with  bim,  he  was  always  lakins  'opportu- 
nities of  communicating  knowledge.  The 
intellectual  ^fts  of  Burns  even  at  this  tune 
greatly  impressed  his  fellow-scholar. 


■.   Eobert 


men.  Tlieir  style  of  hingnage  was  quite 
above  that  of  their  corapeets.    Bobert  liad 

quainted  himself  with  their  contents.  He 
read  rapidly,  bat  remembered  all  that  was 
interesting  or  valuable  in  what  he  read. 
tie  had  the  New  Testament  more  at  com- 
mand than  any  other  youth  ever  known 
to  Btr.  Tennant,  who  was,  altogether, 
more  impressed  in  these  his  boyish  days  by 
the  discourse  of  the  youthful  poet,  than  he 
afterwards  was  by  bis  publisiied  verses. 
1'he  elocution  of  Bums  resembled  that  of 
Edmund  tlean — deep  thoughtful  emphatic, 
and  III  controversy  no  man  could  stand 
betore  him  " 

Pa<e  17  Note  24- Atr  Jnlin  Murdoch 


French 

lanensge,    8io 

1788 

DlctKHC 

arv  of  Duitu  ct 

aud  other 

He    was    a    hi 

ily  am 

able    and 

worths  man      I 

day. 

lnes<  had 

reduced 

the  bri 

k  of  destitution. 

and  an 

appeal 

as  made 

to  the 

nends  and 

of   h 

dlustno 

IS    pup 

1    m    bis 

noney  wa 

ai  ed  and 

applied 

o  the  re 

lefof  bis 

necessi 

les     Iti. 

o  the 

bituary  n 

otice  of  Mr  Mut. 

he  bad  tiught  English  in  London  to  several 
distingnished  foreigners  j  among  the  rest, 
to  the  celebrated  Talleyrand,  diirmg  hi* 
residence  as  an  emigrant  in  England. 

Fade  19    Note  25— Both  Robert  and 


fethe 


Hosted  by  Google 


NOTES  TO  THE 


him  OB  tht  tarm,  wbich  cluiioB  were  prefer- 
able to  those  c^  Che  other  creditors.  They 
thus,  with  the  perfect  approbalior 


,iok  of  ius( 


B  also 


(though  some  thought  otherwise  stlhe 
rescued  a  portion  of  ilia  property  from  the 
"  lielhhotmda/' 

Page  19,  Note  26, — John  Blane,  slteady 
meiiiioiied,  reports  that,  at  Lochlee,  the 
'   ■      family,    iucluding    tlie    daughters 


'fought  at 


The  secoud  daughter,  Ainabelli  bj  iianie. 

(ery  worthy 

had  a  turn  tor  poetry,  but.  Dot  boring  beeii 

Indies,  where 

taught  to  write,  vna  unable  to  eomiuit  lier 

compositions  to  paper:    few  women  of  the 

same  tank  were  at  that  time  tannht  to  write. 

not  comijA' 

llie  family  was  one  which  regulEirly  went  to 

Lady  Wallact 

church,  one  male  and  one  female  being  left 

r^d  by  the 

at  home,  to  take  care  of  the  houie,  tmd 

have  Blane  for  lier  c 


Pagb  20,  Note  27.— According  to  credi- 

every  day  to  Kilmarnock,  for  the  purpose  ot 
■uperiutending  the  progress  of  hia  literary 
labonts,  through  press ;  and  it  is  very 
certaiu  that  he  was  at  tiiis  time  labouring 
under  the  utmoat  privations,  and  subaisting 
upon  the  most  scanty  faie : — "  dan^  ifff  a 
piete  of  oat  cake,  briJ  tim-petminin>»A  ijf 
ale"  according  to  oue  of  his  biographer" 
Page  20,  Note  28.— Burns,  hinist 
many  of  hia  extant  letters  of  tbia  date,  declares 
that  he  was  "  skulking  ^om  covert  to  c 
under  the  terror  at  a  jsil,"  and  chat  h 
pursued  to  praaecution  by  the  ofHcers,  imder 
proceedings  intended  to  extort  a  compulsory 
provision  for  his  t»in  children,  by  Miss  Ar- 

r  mother;  wiu^ 


atiug,  by  marrying  tl 


of  1; 

:o  post,  in  the  hope  of  eSec'toally 


the  n 


Faoe  21,  Note  2fl.— There  is  a 
observation  of  Gilbert  Burns  on  his  br 
narrative,  in  which  aome  persona  i 
interested.  It  refers  to  where  thi 
e|ieaka    of    his    youthful    friends. 


olthisi 


aaysC 


Mr.  Andrew  M'Culloch,  i 


>f  my  It 


,  in  the  contraband 
trade,  very  common  at  that  time.  He  died 
while  the  boys  were  young,  and  my  father 
waa  nominated  one  of  the  tutors,  'ilie  two 
eldest  were  bred  aliopkeepers,  the  third  a 
surgeon,  and  the  youngest,  the  only  sutvi. 

Glasgow,  where  he  is  now  a  respectable 
merchant.  I  belieie  all  these  boys  vent  to 
the  West  Indies.  Then  tliere  were  two  sons 
of  Dr.  Malcolm,  whom  I  have  mentioned  ia 
my  letter  to  Mta.  Dunlop.  The  eldest  a 
young  man,  vent  to  the  Kast 
he  bad  a  commisaion  ui  tlio 
.  the  person  whose  heart,  my 
the  jlfH)iR3r  Begiaa  aceneg  crmid 
The  other,  by  the  uiterest  of 
,  got  an  enaigocyin  a  regiment 
Duke  of  Hamilton  durir^  the 
ar.  I  believe  neither  of  them 
are  now  (1797)  alive.    We  alao  knew  the- 

t resent  Dr.  Faterson  of  Ayr,  and  a  younger 
rother  of  .his,  now  in  Jamaica,  who  were 
much  younger  than  ns.    I  had  almost  foi^ot 

little  older  than  my  brother,  and  with  whom 
we  had  a  longer  and  closer  intimacy  than 
uith  any  of  the  others,  which  did  not,  how. 
ever,  continue  in  alter  life." 

Page  21,  Notb  30.-— A 
meaning  Are. 

Faqe  31,  Note  31.— The  hoary  brow. 

Page  21,  Note  32.- Wishes  or  cliooaes. 

Faoe  21,  Notes  33,  84,  and  aS.—Aii 

Scottish  Psalmody.  Rer«ence  is  especially 
made    to  the  three    adopted    by    VVilliun 


Pace  21,  Note  3B.— 


uppliea 


a^ds  fuel 


Page  2!,  Note  S7.— The  father  c 
family  leading  the  &mily  devotion. 

Page  25,  Note  38.—"  This  huaine 
first  carried  on  here .  from  the  Iste  of 
and  ufterwards    to   a.  considerable  i 
from   France,   Ostend, 
Persons    engaged   in  it  ftinnd  it  necessary 
go  abroad,a 


foreign  mere 


ly  dealing 


,. ._. .   brought  home  to  their 

smdies  and  friends  the  means  of  lusnry 
nd  tuiery  at  the  cheapest  rale." — Slahtlieul 
iaxunl  of  Kirkoawaid,  1794, 
Paoe  28,  Note  39.— The  subjoined  anec- 


..,  Google 


mortified  to  SmA  th 
hul  bf  «i  addressed  I 
nune  Andrea  euhal 
the  motto  from  Bli 
omitted.    He  sstd  n< 


LIFE   OP  B 
»1  epiatle  which    ain 


oflu 


done  sll  in  his  humble  ponet  fat  fciendship'a 
cause,  he  could  not  fotgiie  so  marked  a 
slight.  He,  therefore,  from  that  time  ceased 
to  onsvec  Bnins's  letters.  ^100  the  poet 
was  iieit  St  Majbole,  he  asked  the  cause, 
and  WilUe  answered  by  iuquinng  if  he  could 
not  liimself  diiine  it.  He  said  lie  thought 
he  could,  and  adverted  to  the  ^langed 
name  ia  the  poem.  Mr,  Bobert  Aiken, 
n  Ayr,  had  been,  be  said,  a  useful 


frie. 


1  patron  to  him.    He  1 


al  life 


a  feir  ti 


IS  ad- 


dressed to  this  jouch  would  gi^tify  th 
father,  and  he  accepted  as  a  mark  of  my 
gratitude.  But,  my  muse  being  lazy,  I 
could  not  well  make  ihem  out,  A^er  all, 
this  old  epistle  occurred  to  roe,  and  by  put- 
made  it  answer  this  purpose.  WiUie  told 
hiOL  iu  repLy,  that  he  had  just  exchauged 
his  tWendiiliip  for  that  of  Mr,  Aikeo,  and" 
requested  tiiat  their  respective  letters  might 
be  hartit— a  dutj  which  be  acmpnloi^y 
performed  on  his  own  part.  The  two  dis- 
putauts  of  Kirkoawald  never  saw  or   cor- 


niariabl;  suppUed  with  oatmeal,  the 
siapiB  of  the  poor  Scotsman's  Hfe— eheese, 

the  home  stores,  by  the  iotetventiou  of  tha 
weekly  or  fortnightly  catrier.  The  above 
passnge  tecals  to  the  Editor  an  anecdote 
which  is  telaCed  of  a  geatlemsn,  now  high  in 
consideration  at  the  Scottish  bar,  whose 
father,  a  poor  villager  in  the  upper  ward  of 
laitgrkshire,  having  contrived  to  get  him 
placed  at  Glasgow  University,  supported  hini 
there  chiefiy  by  a  weekly  bag  of  oatmeal 
On  one  occasion,  the  supply  was  stopped  for 
nearly  three  we^s  hy  a  snow-storm.  The 
young  n     ■  ..,,-■ 


like  Bun 


And 


jible  and  powerfn|.nlinded 
had  all  but  perished,  before  the  dissolving 
-  allowed  a  new  etock  of  pto.visions  to 


biuiseifi— "This  was  an  unlucky  attait;  oa 

new  year  the  shop  took  lice,  and  burnt  to 
ashes,  and  I  icaa  left,  li!ce  a  Irae  paet,  not 

Bums  at  Irvine  thus  reported  his  recollec- 
tion of  Uie  poet's  appearance  end  demeauour. 
He  looked  older  thdn  he  was — ^vas  of  a  very 
dark  compleiiou,  and  had  a  strong  dark  efe; 
his  ordinary  look,  while   in  company,  was 

called  a  gloomy  attentiveness.  Wheu  not 
uiietested  iu  the  conversation,  he  might 
sometimes  he  seen,  for  a  considerable  space, 
leaning  down  on  his  palm,  with  his  elhor 
resting  on  his  knee^ — perhaps  the  moat  mel. 
Btuiholy  of  all  postures  short  of  the  prostra- 
tion of  despair.    He  was  in  common  silent 


self  to  the  company  of  that  person,  and 


means,  and  the   traits  to  which   he   was 

Among  women  he  never  failed  to  eiert  him- 

oflen reduceil;   and  tha  account  which  we 

self,  and  always  shone.    People  remarked. 

have  of  the  closing  scene  of  his  father's  life. 

even  then,  that  when   Robert  Burns  did 

salflciently  explains  how  this  esttemity  of 

speak,  he  always  spoke  (o  the  point,  and  in 

distress  should  liave  failed  to  be  relieved  by 

his  relatiies.    To  those  to  whom  such  a  cir- 

another source  we  learn  that  Biu'us  at  this 

cumstance,  however,  may  appear  somewliat 

time    loved    to    debate    theological    topics 
amongst  the  rustic  groups  which  met  iu  the 

be  iuCeresiiijg : — "  It  is  no  uncommon  ease 

churchyard  after  service." 

fm  a  small  farmer,  or  even  cotter,  in  Scot- 

Pa8E  30,  Note  43.-Smar  was  a  brother 

laud,  to  have  a  son  placed  at  some  distant 

rbjmster  of  Bums's,  and  il  was  to  him  that 

ecminary  of  learning,  or  servuig  an  anpren- 

the  Epistle  to  Davie  was  addressed.    Mr. 

Inuleamaai   iu  which  cas^  the   youth  ii 

true  in   Lrvine,  by  inberiting.  verf  unci- 

Ho,t,db,  Google 


tS6 


NOTES  TO  THB 


pectedly,  a  Isrge  fomiiie  trom  >  distint  rela- 
tite.  He  had.  however,  hcfore  this,  settled 
89  a  tCBcher  in  the  same  place,  and  lived  in 
CTtnpetent  citciima  lances.  Me  has  only  been 
dead  a  few  years. 
PaOe  31,  NoTK  44.— At  the  period  at 
I   Dr.  Ciitiie   wtote  his   biographical 


ively  sc 


s,  thesi 


nark  that  works  of  this  particular  chamoter 
ce  held  in  preference.  The  Seoteta,  hesides, 


ns,  foj 


maly  undreamt  of,  ha>e  heen  taken  !r 
Biataog  inleUectnal  food  to  the  people.  It 
may,  at  the  sEune  time,  be  raentinned  that  no 
evil  reault  of  any  kind  is  known  to  have 
ariaen  from  the  alleged  predilection  of  the 
Scottish  neasantry  for  books  of  elefrimt  lite- 
rature.   We  think  it  likely  that  this  predi. 

One  creit  chanjie  has,  however,  taken  place 
in  the  tastes  of  the  rural  people  of  Scotland. 
Their  book-shelvea  or  nlndow-soles,  ahich 
forroHly  contained  only  «  few  bonks  of 
dirinity,  with  perhaps  Blind  Harry's  Wallace 
and  Kamaay^a  Gentle  Shepherd,  or  some 
uiecimens  of  secular  literature,  now  eihiblt, 


.    The  iodividna 


produciious  in  the  bel 

able  books  of  infotiue 

■ho  eell  hooks  in  mmin-j,  or  snioll  poets, 

weak  strongly  of  the  chsuEO  which  has  taken 

pJace  amongst  them,  during  the  last  thirty 

years,  from  in  eictueiiely  theodgical  Co  a 

Paob  35,  Note  45.— In  Cobbett's  Moga- 

Paob  35,  Note  48.— The  female  infimt 
continued  to  be  nursed  by  its  mother,  hut 
unable  to  provide  any  bettra  attention  for 
the  boy,  the  fiimily  entrusted  him  to  the  cere 
of  some  (rood  people  at  Mossgicl,  where  he 
was  reared  hy  hand,  being  fed  upon  cow'smilk. 

Page  35,  Note  47. — Misa  Alexander, 
who  had  become  the  purchaser  of  the  estate 
in  the  scenery  of  wliich  Bntns  dehghied  to 
leveL  Wllhelmina  Alexander  was  the  sister 
of  Hr.  Claude  Alexander,  who  has  served  ss 
jiaTTiuater  to  the  troops  in  India. 

Paqe  36,  NOTB  48.— This  letter  is  pre- 
eerred  as  a  great  treasure  at  Ballochmyle. 


edition  of  his  works. 


ary  Cam 


llochmyle." 

individual  ■]■ 
able  girl,  named 

Itca 


_ __ ^ history,  to 

Ihe  dairy-woman— at  CoilsBelr!  Honse,  the 
seat  of  Colonel  Montgomery,  afterwards 
twelfth  earl  of  Eghnton.  Burn*  partly 
narrates  the  tale  ot  his  atTection  foe  thia 
youugworaan,  "  After  a  prett;?  longtrlal," 
he  says,  *'of  the  most  ardent  reaprooil  aCfoo- 
tion,  Wb  met,  by  appointment,  on  the  second 
Sunday  of  May,  in  a  sequeateted  spot  by  the 
banks  of  Ayr,  where  we  spent  a  day  m  taking 
a  farewell  before  she  should  embark  for  the 
WiHit  Hivhlands.  tn  arrange  matters  among 
irojecied  dunge  of  life. 


her  trienda  tor 


ivhere  she  had  scarce  lauded  when  she  was 
iebsed  with  a  malignant  fever,  which  hurried 
mv  dear  girl  to  het  grave  in  a  few  days, 
before  I  could  even  hear  of  her  illness." 
Mr.  Cromek  further  informs  ns,  tliat  this 
idien  was  performed  with  nil  those  simple 


Fach  other. 
They  parted — never  to  meet  a^n."    It  ia 

Soper  to  add,"  says  Mr.  Lockhatt,  "  that 
r.  Cromek'a  story  has  recently  heen  con- 
firmed  very  strongly  by  the  nccidenlal  dis- 
covery of  a  Bible,  presented  by  Bums  to 
Mary  Campbell,  in  the  po>aeasion  of  her 
still  surviving  sister  at  Ardroaaan.  Upon 
the  boards  of  the  first  volume  is  inscribeii,  in 
Banks's  handwriting— '  And  ye  shall  not 
fidsely,  IamtheLo^d.■— 


■.  12.'      On  tl 


I  thyself. 


bnt  shall  perform  unlo  the  Lord 
-~Sl,  Mntlh.  chap,  t,  S3.  And,  on  a  blanlf 
leaf  of  either—'  Robert  Burns,  Moasgiel'— 
with  his  mauK-miir^."  Tha  fine  lyrics, 
Highland  Mary,  and  To  Muy  in  Heav», 


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LIFE   OF    BURKS. 


wieh  the  notes  sttached  to  them,  td!  th 
remainder  of  tliis  sorrowful  tale. 

Pabb  37,  Note  52.— Gilbert  Bums,  in 
letter  addressed  to  the  Editor  [Dr.  Cunie' 
has  kLv™  the  following  account  of  the  friend 
which  Robert's  talents  procured  hioi  befor 
lie  left  Ayrshire,  or  attracted  the  notice  c 
tbe  world  :— 

■'  The  farm  of  Mossiriel,  at  the  time  of  on 
CTiming  W  it  (MatHnmas,  1783),  was  the  pre 
perty  of  the  Earl  of  London,  but  aas  hcii 
in  tack  by  Jlr.  Gavin  Hamilton,  writer,  ii 
Maudiline,  from  whom  we  liitd  out  bargain 


might  n 


ite  Robert  with  what  ir 
toEdinb"/"""™" 


y  of  kno 

owuig  n  amcere  regard  for  my  brother, 
he  knew  that  he  was  a  poet.    The 

r  hia  character,  may  be  collected  from 


Mi.  Robert  Aiken,  writer  in  Ayr,  is  a  inati 
of  worth  and  taste,  of  warm  affections,  and 

friends  end  rchtions.     It  is  to  this  ^ntleman 
The  Cotter's  Saturday  Ni;,'ht  is  inscribed. 


currency,  necessary  in  this  wise  world,  even 
(bt  the  good  recepUon  of  thmgs  valuabie  in 
themselves.  But  Mr.  Aiken  not  only  ad- 
acquainted  with  him,  he  showed  the  warmest 
r^atd  for  the  man,  and  did  everythinj  in 
bis  power  to  forward  hia  interest  and  re- 
spectability.  The  Ejiislle  to  a  Young  IViend 


1,  Sir, 


erpool.  He  » 
the  oldest  of  a  young  family,  who  were 
taught  to  receive  my  brother  with  respect, 
as  a  man  of  genhis.  and  their  other's  frieod. 
The  Brigs  of  Ayr  b  inscribed  to  John 
Ballantine,  Esq.,  banker,  in  Ayr;  one  of  those 
gentlemen  to  whom  my  brother  vas  iutro- 
duced  by  Mr.  Aiken.  He  inta^sted  himself 
very  warmly  in  my  brnthM's  concerns,  and 
coiuitantly  showed  the  greatest  friendship 
and  attaehmcnt  to  him.  When  the  Kilmar- 
nock edition  was  all  sold  olT,  and  a  consider- 
able demand  pointed  out  the  propriety  of 
Cblisbilig  a  second  edition,  Mr.  Wilson,  who 
d  printed  the  first,  fas  asked  if  he 
would  print  the  second,  and  take  his  chance 
Dfh«ng  paid  from  the  first  sale.  This  be 
declined,  and  when  ttiis  came  to  Mr.  Ballan. 
tine's  knowledge,  be  generously  offered  to 


a  fittest  place 
go  to  Edin- 
bui^h,  his  friends  advised  him  to  publish 
again  by  aubscription,  an  that  he  did  not 
need  to  accept  this  ofTer.  Mr.  William 
Parker,  merchant  in  Kilmarnock,  nas  a  snb- 
sctiber  for  thirty-five  copies  of  the  Kilmar- 
nock edition.     This  may,  perhaps,  appear 

comparative  obscurity  of  the  poet  at  this 

to  me  a  greater  elfurt  of  generosity  than 
many  things  which  appear  more  brilliant  in 
my  brother's  fliture  history, 

"Mr.  Robert  Miiir,  merchant  in  Kilmar- 
nock, was  one  of  those  friends  Robert's 
1  him,  and  one  who  was 
I'his  gentleman  had  no 
very  great  fortune,  or  long  line  of  dignified 
ancestry ;  but  what  Robert  says  of  Captain 
Matthew  Heuderson,  might  be  aaid  of  him 
with  great  propriety,  lliol  he  held  the  pnletil 
of  kia  hanoarl  immedisleln  from  AlmlgHg 
(rorf.  Nature  had,  indeed,  marked  him  a 
gentleman  in  the  moat  legible  diameters. 
He  died  while  yet  a  yoimg  man,  t 
the  publication  of  my  brother'B  I 


poetry  ht 


„    .  William  Ciiiiningliam  o( 

Bobertland.  paid  a  very  flattering  attention, 
and  showed  a  good  deal  of  friendslnp  for  the 
poet  Before  his  going  to  Edinburgh,  ai 
well  as  after,  Robert  seemed  peculiariy 
pleased  with  Professor  Stewart's  friendship 


the  friendships  wl 


lired  in  AyrsI 
.Dunlopof  Dunlop;  1 


n  that 


■any  w 


dantly  exerted 
in  behalf  of  him  and  his  &mily,  of  wliich, 
were  it  proper,  1  could  give  many  instaiuws. 
Robert  iras  on  the  point  of  setting  out  for 
Edinburgh  before  Mrs.  DniOop  had  beard  of 
him.  Aliout  the  time  of  my  brother's  pub- 
lishing in  Kilmarnock,  she  had  been  aSieted 
with  a  long  and  severe  illnesa,  which  had 
reduced  her  mind  to  the  most  distressing 
stale  of  d^resMon.  In  this  situation,  s  copy 
of  the  printed  poems  was  laid  on  her  table 
by  a  friend;  and,  happening  to  open  on 
TTia  Cottar's  Saturday  Night,  she  read  it 
over  with  the  greatest  pleasure  and  sivprise; 
the  poet's  description  of  tbe  simple  cotlagera 


eipellmg  the  dem 


Ho,t,db,  Google 


iSS 


MOTES  TO  THE 


fifteen  or  Miteen  taila,  with  ■  yery  obliging 

her  half  a  iozeu  copies  of  his  poems,  if  he 
had  them  to  spare,  and  Ije^ng  he  would  dn 
hei  Ibe  plensure  of  cglling  at  Duulop  House 


ended  only 


Tlie  last  n 

lady  a  Ilm  ilays  before  hia  death. 

Colonel  FuBwton,  who  afterwards  paid  a 
Terj  particular  attention  to  tlie  poet,  was  not 
in  the  coujitry  M  the  time  of  his  6tst  com- 
mencing aulhoT.  At  thi*  ilistauce  of  time, 
tuid  in  tbe  hurry  of  a  wet  day.  snatched  from 
Umrions  occvpDtions,  I  may  have  fiji^ot 
»oine  persons  who  ought  to  have  been  men- 
come  to  iny  kuonled^,  I  eball  be  heartily 

The  friendship  of  Mrs.  DunI™  was  of 
particular  value  to  Bums.  Thia  lady, 
datightei  and  sole  heiress  to  Sir  Thomes 
Wallace  of  Cralgie,  and  luieal  descendant  of 
the  illustriona  Wallace,  the  first  of  Scottish 


tbe  decline  of  life,  tbe  generons  aSeetious  of 
youth,  bet  admiration  of  the  poet  was  soon 
accoiupauied  by  a  sincere  friendship  for  the 
man,  which  pursued  bim  id  aftet-life  through 
good  and  evil  report — in  poverty,  in  sickness, 

his  in^t  fiiinily,  now  depdved  of  tlieir 
parent  [Mrs.  Dunlop  was  the  lineal  de- 
scendant, not  of  Sir  WiUiam  Wallace,  but  of 
bis  father's  elder  brother.  'Ihis  amiable  and 
enlightened  nerson  died  May  24,  1315, 
at  an  advanced  age.] 

Page  38,Note  03.— "Thomas  Blacldock, 
n.D.  (bom  at  Annan,  Nov.  10, 1721,  died  at 
Ediaburgb,  July  7,  1791),  though  blind 
from  the  age  of  »i.  months,  acquired  the 
education  suitable  for  the  clericBl  profession, 

"  wrote  poetry  considerably  above  medi- 


1  Dr.  Laurie   appbed 


merely  becans 
literary  acquaintances  with  wbom  be  choae 
to  use  that  freedom,  iiappencd  also  to  be  the 
person  best  qualified  to  render  the  applica- 
tion successful.  Dr.  Slacklock  was  an  en- 
thusiast in  his  admiration  of  an  art  which  he 
had  practised  himself  witb  applause.  He 
felt  the  claims  of  a  poet  with  a  paternal 
sympathy,  and  he  had  in  bis  constitution  a 
tenderness  and  sensibility  that  would  have 
eDg;aged  his  beneficence  for  a  youth  in  the 

not  beea  indebted  to  him,  fat  the  deUght 


ceived  from  his  worls ;  for  if  tlie 
ity,  and  envied  by  education  to 


llie  following  is  the  letter  of  Dr.  Black- 
lock  to  Dr.  Idurie,  by  which  the  poet  was 
Erevenied  from  going  to  Jamaica,  and  bad 
is  steps  turned  towards  Edinburgh  :— 
"i  ought  to  have  acl^iiowledged  your 
favour  long  ago,  not  only  as  a  testimony  of 

and  perhaps,  one  of  the  most  genuine  enter- 
tainments of  which  the  human  mind  is 
susceptible.  A  number  of  avocations  retarded 
my  progress  in  reading  tbe  poems ;  at  last^ 
hovei  er,  1  have  Hnished  that  pleasing  perusal. 

force  or  beneiicence  exerted  under  nnmerous 
and  formidable  disadvantages;  but  none 
equal  to  that  with  which  you  have  been  kind 

enougb  to  present  it      "'^-      ■ 

and  delicacy  in  his  se: 


which  cannot  be  too  mueli  admired, 
too  warmly  approved;    and  1  think  I 

never  open  tbe  hook  without  fcebng 
Btonisbment  renewed  and  increased.  It 
iiy  wish  to  bave  expressed  my  approba- 
in  verse;  but  wbetber  from  dMlining 

<t  present  out  of  my  power  to  accomplish 


that  in 


orofM 


in  thia 


university,  bad  formerly  read  me  three  of  the 
poems,  and  I  had  desired  him  to  get  my 
nnnie  inserted  among  the  subscribers ;  but 
wlieiUer  this  was  done  or  not,  I  never  could 

Blair,  but  will  take  care  to  bave  tbe  poems 

some  mutual  friend.  It  has  been  told  me 
by  a  gentleman,  to  whom  I  sliowed  the  per- 
formances, and  who  sought  a  copy  vilh 
di%enoe  and  ardour,  that  the  whole  imprea. 

much  to  be  wished,  for  tbe  sake  of  the  young 
man,  that  a  second  edition,  more  numerous 
than  the  former,  could  immediately  be 
printed;   as  it  appears  certain  that  its  in. 

lersal  orcniation  than  anything  of  the  kind 
which  hai  been  published  in  mg  memory." 


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UFB  OF  BURXS. 


Pabh  83,  Note  B4.— Mr,  DJziel  was 
employed  by  the  Esrl  of  Gleinjaim,  in  tlie 
capidty  of  etewDrd  to  hia  estates,  aiid  waa 
locued  in  Ayrshire,  in  tbe  eatste  callett 
Finlayston,  belongiu;;  to  that  noblemaii. 

Paoe  38,  NoTB  53. — Mr.  CnnniDgham, 
in  his  account  of  this  period,  in  the  poet's 
career,  haa  girea  tbe  folloning  porirsiCure  of 
him :— "  After  his  return  to  Edinbnrsh,  he 
seemed  for  some  days,  as  in  earlier  life,  un- 
fitted iFith  an  aim,  and  nandered  aboul^ 
lookmg  down  from  Arthur's  seat  surveying 
the  [lalace,  gazing  at  the  casEle,  or  concern- 


poems  of  the  phjoehman  of  Ayrshire.  He 
picked  bis  way  to  the  solitary  tomb  of  Fer- 
gusaon,  ana  kissed  the  i 


t  (he  hon: 


entering  it,  took  off  his  hat ;  and 
wnen,  subsequently,  he  was  introduced  to 
Creech,  the  bibUopole  reniemhered  that  he 
hod  before  heard  of  liis  iuquiring  whether 
this  had  been  the  shop  of  the  author  of  the 
Oatle  S/,epl,erd. 

Page  38,  Note  56.— The  following  are 
tlie  lines  in  question ; — 

This  wot  ye  all  whom  it  concerns, 

I,  Bhymer  Robin,  alias  Burns, 
October  twenty-third. 

A  ne'er-lo-be-foi^Dtten  dsy. 

Sue  far  I  sprackled  up  the  brasi 


I  dim 


Wi'r 


a  lord. 


en  ji^ed  the  bonour'd  jorum. 
When  mighty  squireahips  of  the  quonm 

llieir  l^dia  drouth  did  slokeu. 
Bnt  wi'  B  Lord  i  stand  out  my  shiu ! 
ALordi  aPeert  a  true  Earl's  son  I 

Up  higher  yet  my  bonnet  1 
And  sic  D  Lord— lang  Scotch  ells  twa. 
Our  Peerage  he  o'erlooks  them  a'. 

As  I  look  o'et  my  sonnet. 
But,  oh  I  for  Hogarth's  msgic  pow'r '. 
To  show  Sir  Bordy's  willyatD  giow 'r. 

And  how  he  star'd  and  stammer'd 
When  goavon,  as  if  fed  wi'  branka. 
And  atumpin'  on  bis  plonghman  shanks, 

He  in  the  parlour  liammer'd. 
1  slidit^  ahelter'd  in  a  noot. 
And  at  his  Lordship  steal'c  a  look, 

Eicept  good  sense  and  social  glee. 
And  (what  surprised  me)  modesty. 


rh'd  the  symptoms  o'  the  great. 


Nae  honest  wort&y  man  need  car^ 
To  meet  nith  noble  youthful  D&BB> 
For  he  but  meets  a  brother. 
Thenobleman  alluded  to  in  thew  hues,  was,  ta 
lias  been  noticed,  Basil  Lord  Daer,  the  eldiat 
son  and  heir    of  Dunbar  Earl  of  Selkuk. 
Imbued  with  the  equalising  notions  of  the 
French  llevolution,  from  tbe  seat  of  i^ich 
he  hod  but  very  recently  returned,  he  was 
free  from  all  the  absurd  affeetotion  of  sim- 
pliinty  and  hypocritical  pretence  of  equality, 

appeoranes,  as  genumely  courteous  6 


IS  his  heai 


tiousl, 


early  death,  on  tbe  3tb  of  November,  1794^ 
was  sincerely  lamented  by  the  many  of  the 

' " '    Mseued    from    undeserved    obscurity, 
only  31  years  of  age  wUeni 


Lord  Daei 


he  died 

Paob  89,  NoTB  57.— Dr.  Cotria  tolieen 
and  conversed  with  Bums. 

Page  — ,  Note  68.— Refer  to  note  59, 
the  number  58  having  been  omitted  in  ths 


tliat  the  real  dale  should  hive  been  tendered 
1T89-S0,  whilst  others  amongst  the  biogrtb 
pliers,  &c.,  who  furnish  us  with  material  re- 
lating to  the  poet,  prefer  to  render  tbe  dat« 
as  1737-83.  1  believe,  from  other  documents, 
that  tbe  date  is  correctly  rendered  in  the  text, 
and  from  some  scraps  of  memoranda  derived 
originally  from  Dr.  Mackeniie  through  Mr. 
Bland,  1  should  say  that  the  matter  was 
beyond  a  doubt, — [Ed.] 

Paoe  41,  Note  «J.— The  reader  is  re- 
fbrred  from  tins  quotation  to  the  "  Oeneral 
Correspondence  of  Bums"  in  tbe  for^onig 
part  of  this  volume,  under  the  dale  of  Feb. 
U,  1791.  It  wiU  be  seen  that  the  cant«U 
furnished  by  other  letters  of  an  approiimati) 
date,  throw  much  light  on  this  period  in 


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NOTES  TO  THE 


line,  reapMtinf   Bcras'i    orriTil,  an 
carii^r  period  <^  liii  residence,  in  Ediiibilr^h, 
tie  cunous.    Mr.  Richmond,  who  had  ■"  " 
brought  up  in  the  office  of  a  country  n 
snil  was  now  perFecting  hia  itndies  in  thaC 
of  B  metropolitan  practitioner,  eccupied 
room  in  the  house  ot  a  Mn,  Catfrae, 
BaMec's  Close,  Lawnmarkef ,  at  the  rent 
three  shillings  a-weck.      Hi«  cireumslanc 
■9  a  youth  just  entering  the  world  made 
hitn  Hilling  Co  shure  bis  upaitment  and  bed 
with  any  agreeable  companion,  who     '  ' ' 
be  disposed   to  lake  part  in  the  expense. 
lliBse  teruia  suited  his  old  Mauchline 
quainlance.  Burns,  nho    accordingly  1 
<«iCii  him  in  Mrs,  Carfrae's  ftam  his  ari 
■in  Norernber  till  his  leaving  (own  in  J    ., 
on  his  aonthem  eicuraions,    Mr.  Richmond 


■espectalile,  though  the  ti 


Jmpany,  i 


jh    fteqnently 


■t  good  hours,  and  irent  soberly  to  bed, 
where  he  would  prevail  upon  his  companion, 

>b;  little  bribes,  to  read  to  him  till  he  fell 
asleep,     Mr.  Lockhart  dravs  an  unlavour- 

-ible  iafeteuce  from  his  afterwards  removiug 
;1  Nieol;   bnt  tor 


!    Mr.    Richnic 


suppliea 


reason  which  etculputes 

he  bard.     Du 

Bums's  absence 

in  the  so 

th  and  at  Jf  a 

line,  Mr,  lUchm 

Olid  took 

u  another  (el 

Jodar;    sotha 
.mad    applied 

when  th 

G  poet  came  b 

or    re-ad 

Curfrae's    humt 

le   mena^ 

c,  he    found 

place  lilled  up 

andwas° 

compelled  to 

-rtsewhere. 

nalianism  which  at  this  penod  rrigned  in 
Edinburgh.  Mr,  WiHiam  Nieol  of  the 
High  School,  Bod  Mr.  John  Gray,  city-clerk. 


lowest  floor  of  which  there  waa  a  tarera, 
kept  by  a  certain  Lm^  Frin^le,  having  a 
back  eutry  from  the  ptsd,  thmiiKh  whieh 
visitors  could  be  admitted,  anwotted  of  by  n 
censorious  world  'i'here  Burns  was  mncti 
with  Nicol,  both  before  and  after  his  taking 
up  his  abode  in  that  gentleman's  honse. 
He  also  attraded  pretty  frequently  the 
meeCii^s  ot  the  Cnehatlan  Fenciblea,  at  theic 
howS  in  the  Anchor  Close;  and  of  Johniue 
Danle'g  tavern,  in  Libberlon'a  Wyad,  he 
a  frequent  visitor,  Mr,  Alexander 
ingham,  jcveller,  and  Mr.  Robert 
Cleghorn,  farmer  at  Saughton  Mills,  may  b« 

[luiinlance  in  Edi]ibi:irgh.    The  in^acy 
farmed  with  Mr.  Robert  Ainslie,  tbea  a 
young  writer's  appreatice,  eppeara  to  bare 
been  of  a  different  charactec. 

Park  41,  Note  62.— Mr.  Dnlrymple  of 
OraugeSeld,  and  the  Honoocable  Heray 
~  ikine,  loay  be  mentioned  as  individual* 
}  exerted  themselves  in  bcbalF  of  Bums, 
immediately  after  his  arrive  in  Ediubiii^h. 
Dr.  Adam  Fergusson,  author  of  tba  History 
if  the  Roman  Republic,  may  also  be  added 


philo 


I    lite 


.of  w 


n,  Sir  Walter  Scott  ni 


bouse  of  the 
with 


icof  Bun 


rafter 


n  Edinburgh,  was  li 
to  that  of  his  nislic  compeers.  "What  a 
dod-hopper  I  "  was  the  descriptire  eidama- 
tion  of  a  lady,  to  whom  he  was  abruptly 
pointed  out  one  day  in  the  lawnmartet    In 


:  of  a  few 


paratively  feshi 
with  met.'  ' 
stnpped  v« 


nable  a 


e  grown  into  them,  and  top-boots, 
g  the  huck^ns  under  the  knee, 
ckctotb  of  whit«  cambric,  was  neatly 
id,  and    his  whole    appearance  was 


lUowing    letter    to    Mr. 
Lockhart:— 

I  may  truly  say,  Rp- 
I  waaaladoflifieenin 
1T8G-7,  wbeu  he  cams  first  to  Edinbu^ 
but  had  sense  and  feeling  enough  to  be 
■   *  'his  poetry,  and  wonld 

Id  to  knowbim;  but  I 
.  intance  with  any  literary 
people,  and  still  less  with  the  gentry  of  the 
west  country,  the  two  sets  whom  he  most 
frequented,  Mr.  T.  Qrierson  »as  at  that 
.  cte-k  of  mr  felher'a.  He  knew 
and  promised  to  ask  him  Co  his 
lodgings  to  dinner,  but  had  no  opportunity 


,  „  Google 


LIFE  OF  BURNS. 


461 


toble  Professor  FeipjBson'e,  wliere  there  were 
Mseral  gentlemen  of  literary  reputstion, 
among  whom  I  remember  the  celebrated 
Mr.  Dusald  Stewart.  0!  course  we  young- 
■tera  sat  silent,  looked  imd  listened.  The 
only  thing  I  remember  whicli  kbs  remark- 


CanadiMi  hills,  or  Mmden' 


The  hig  dtoi 


linglin; 


Gaie  the  aid  presage  of  his  future  years. 
The  ehild  of  misery  baptised  in  tears." 
Biirni  seemed  much  affected  by  the  piint,  or 
lather  the  ideaa  which  it  aiiggested  to  his 
mind.  He  sctually  shed  tears.  He  asked 
whose  the  lioea  were,  and  it  chanced  that 
uohody  but  myself  remembered  that  they 
occur  in  a  hDlf.fargottea  poem  of  Lan^horne'a, 
celled  hy  the  unpromiam|[  title  of  'The 
Justice  of  Peace.'    I  whiapHcd  my  infbrma- 

Bums,  who  rewarded  me  with  a  look  and  a 
word,  which,  thongh  in  mere  uviUty,  I  then 
Tecnved,  and  still  recollect,  witb  great  plea- 
sure.    His  person  n'as  strong  and  robust; 
his  mauners  rostic,  not  clownish ;  a  sort  ol 
d^nified    plainness  and    simplicity,  which 
lecdved  part  of  its  cfiect,  perhaps,  from  one's 
knowledge  of  his  extraordinary  talents.     His 
features  ere  represented  in  Mr,  Nasmyth's 
picture  i  but  to  me  it  conveys  the  idea  that 
tbey  are  diminished,  ss  if  seen  io  perapective 
I  think  his  counieaniice  was  mure  massire 
than  it  looks  m  any  of  the  portruts.  I  would 
have  taken  tbe  poet,  had  I  not  known 
lie  was,  for  a  very  sagacious  country  fa 
of  the  old  Scotch  school ;  that  is,  no 
your     modem     agncnltitrists,    who 
labourers  tot  their  drudgery,  but  the  douce 
gaidatim  who  held  his  OMU  plough.    There 
'.rong  enpression  of  sense  and  sh 


J  in  all  h 

LUik,  indicated  the 
.    It  w 


h  glowed  {I  say  literally  ghUKd)  when 
lie  spoke  with  fechng  or  uitereat.    I 

though  I  have  seen  the  most  distinguished 
men  of  my  time.    His  conversation  eipi 
perlect  self-confidence,  without  the  sh; 
presumption.    Amon^  the  men  who 


he  eipteased  himself  with  perfect  firmness, 
but  without  the  least  intrusive  forwardness ; 
and  when  he  dilTn^d  in  opinion,  he  did  not 
beailate  to  eipress  it  irmly,  yet,  at  the  same 

any  part  of  his  conversation  distinctly  enough 
to  quote  it;  nor  did  I  ever  see  Ixim  again, 
encept  in  the  street,  where  he  did  not  recog- 
nise me,  as  t  could  not  eineet  he  should. 
He  was  mneb  caressed  in  Edinburgh,  but 
(considering  what  literary  eraolumenla  have 
been  r^sed  since  his  day)  the  efforts  made 
for  his    relief   were    estremely  trifling.    I 


thought  Burns's  acnuaintance  with  Ei^iah 
poetry  was  rather  limited,  and  also,  that 

having  tw. 

Kamssy  at 


..  JOB  the  abilities  of  Allan 
f  Fergussoii,  he  t»!ked  of  ibem 

humility  as  his  models;  there 

was,  doubtless,  national  predilection  in  his 
estimate.  This  is  all  I  can  tell  you  about 
Burns.  I  have  only  to  add,  that  his  dress 
corresponded  with  his  manner.  He  was  lite 
a  farmer  dressed  in  his  best  to  dine  with  the 
laird.    I  do  not  speak  in  mslani  parteiH, 

with  his  superiors  in  station  and  information, 
more  perfectly  free  from  either  the  reality  or 
the  aifeclation  of  embartassraent.  I  was 
told,  but  did  not  observe  it,  that  his  address 
to  females  was  extremely  deferential,  and 
always  with  a  turn  either  to  the  pathetic  or 
humorous,  which  engird  their  attention 
particularly.  I  have  heard  the  late  Duchess 
of  Gordon  remark  this,  I  do  not  know  any- 
thing 1  can  add  to  these  recollections  of  forty 


luchcsa 


Paqe  41,  Note  63. — Jane 
Gordon,  so  remarkable  m  her  time,  was  one 
amongst  the  moat  striking  personages  of  hla 

Page  K,  Note  6*.— It  was  by  the  Earl 
of  Glencaim,  or  through  his  instrnmeutE^ity, 
that  Mr.  W.  Creech,  the  bookseller,  was 
introduced  to  Bums.  Mr.  Creech  bad 
travelled  on  the  continent,  in  the  character 
of  tutor  and  companion  to  the  yonng  noble- 
man, and  the  latter  had  in  view  the  produc- 
tion of  a  new  edition  of  Bums's  works  when 
he  effected  the  introduction.  The  Earl  did 
not  long  survive.  Ha  died  in  the  prima  of 
life  (at  the  age  of  42  years),  on  the  30th  of 
January,  1791,  M  Falmouth. 

Page  44,  Note  66.— Tlie  second  edition 
of  the  poems  came  out  in  April,  1787— a 

Above  2,300  copies  had  been  bespoke  by 
lather  more  than   1,500  subscribers.-    tbe 


Hosted  by  Google 


KOTES  TO  THE 


Caledouuu  Hunt  taking- 100  copies.  Creech  i 
500,  Ibe  Esri  of  EKimton  42,  the  Duch. 
of  Gordon,  21,  the  Earl  of  Glencaim  and  his 
Conatesi  24.  while  mauy  other  individuals 
inhscribed  for  numbers  mnpng  between  two 
aiuitwelve,  Tbennmb«:of nameaofnobility 
tad  gentry  is  very  sarprieinK,  the  rest  being 
chiefly  persons  in  the  middle  nsllcs  of  life, 
ill  districts,  liowei'er,  of  Scotland,    The 


■ongly  eipresMve  is  a>^  tl 


hat 

ehronide  of  the  society  of  the  day. 


Thei 


r  edition 


a  his  honout 


lished  by  a  portrait  of  hiniself,  engraved  hy 
Seugo,  from  a  punting  hy  Alexan'      " 

amjth.    'Pie  engt '  -    —  •-- 

he  it  sud,  did  his  worn  gratuitously,  imprw 
upon  the  origutal  portrait  by  afCw  sittir., 
from  the  bard ;  and  his  prodnetion  is  Bllone'd 
to  he  the  most  faithful  likeness  of  Butiis  in 

Fare  45,  Note  66, — After  seeing  this 
remark  in  print.  Dr.  Somerville  never  punned 
more.  He  was  the  author  of  two  substan- 
tial works  on  the  history  of  England  between 
the  Beslonition  and  the  accession  of  the 
Bninswick  dynasty.  He  died,  May  16, 1830, 
at  the  age  of  ninety  jeara.  siity-four  of 
which  bad  been  passed  in  the  clerical  pro- 
fession, A  son  of  Dr.  Someriille  ii  hust«nd 
toaladydiatiiignishedinibe  tcientiflc  world. 

Pace  46,  Note  67,— "  Burns  returned  to 
Mmcbline  on  the  Sth  of  June,  It  is  pleasuig 
to  imsgme  the  delight  with  which  he  must 
hare  been  received  hy  hia  ftmily  after  an 
aheeuee  of  six  months,  in  which  his  fortunes 
and  prospects  had  undwgoue  so  Bonderftil  a 
chaise.  He  left  them  comparatively  un- 
known, his  teiiderest  feelings  torn  and 
wounded  by  tlie  conduct  of  the  Armours, 


him  through  hfe,  and  made  the-Mady  of  his 
species,  tin  which  nature  had  endowed  him 
with  such  peculiar  qualiflcationa,  the  source 

by  the  requisite  capacity  for  enjoyment  with 
which  he  was  also  endoa'ed.    There  are  few 

abodes  and  secret  lurking  places  of  his  spirit 
are  made  manifest ; — "  I  never,"  says  he, 
^my  friend,  dreamt  that  mankind  were  capa- 
ble of  anything  very  lofty  or  generons ;  bnt 
the  atateliness  of  the  patridana  of  Edin- 
burgh, and  the  servility  of  my  own  plebeian 
brethren  (who,  perhaps,  formerly  eyed  mo 

DUt  me  out  of  conceit  altogether  of  my 
ight  a  pocket-Milton, 
dly  about  mc,  in  order 
its,  the  dauntless  mae- 
,mity,  the  intrepid,  unyielding  indepeml- 
ence,  the  desperate  daring,  aiid  noble  detianee 
of  hardship  m  that  great  personage.  Salon, 
The  man;  ties  of  acquaintance  or  Aiendship 
1  have,  or  think  1  l^ve  in  life,  I  have  felt 
along  the  lines,  and,  damn  them;  tbey  are 
almost  all  of  them  of  such  frail  teitiire,  that 
I  am  sure  they  would  not  stand  the  breath 
of  the  least  adverse  breeze  of  fortune,"— 

LOCKHAUT, 

Page   46,  Note  68.— This  person  was 
Mr,  ■ 


I  have 


^        .  impelled  to 

hiding-place  to  hiding-place  to  escape  tl 
officers,  whose  pursuit  was  unabated,  and  i 
account  of  a  very  inconsiderable  idaim  again 
him.    He  returned;  bis  poeUcal  feme  esta-    1 
blished ;  the  wbole  country  ringmg  with  his    i 
pruses,  fcomacapitalinwhichlKwBa  known    i 
to  have  formed  the  wonder  and  delight  of    i 
the  polite  and  learned ;  it  not  rich,  yet  with   i 
more  money  already  than  any  of  h^  kindred    t 
had  ever  hoped  to  see  him  possess,  and  wii 
prospects  of  future  patronage  and  permanei 
elevation  in  the  scale  of  society,  which  migl 
have  dasBled  steadier  eyes  than  those  of  m 
teroal  and  fraternal  affection.    The  prophet    i 
had  at  last  h"      '  '     '  '  ,       ,    ,     i 


Man 


— Here  would  be  siifli- 


aughty  apiril 
balance  at  Edinbu 

for  "auld  clay  ^^9 


vliich  he  had  submitted,  of  itself  en 

L  to  a  certificate  of  single  blessed 

which,  indeed,  was  offered  hy  the  oBici 


Hoifdb,  Google 


LIFE  OP  litlENS, 


"  To  tell  the  truth,"  bbjs  Burns, "  amc 
{neiidfff  I  iefH  a  miaerable  blank  Id  mj  I 
with  the  want  of  lier  (thit  ia  Jean  Ann 
■nd  I  don't  thiuk  I  shall  evet  meet  wi 


the  Armours  could,  according  to  Scmd 
which  recogniaed  a  promise  as  an  i 
marriage,  have  enforced  the  legal  obaen 
of  all  the  duties  incumbent  upon  a  hus 
IB  completely  refuted  by  the  performai 


atber  or  both  sliould  he  conaidrred  free. 

Faqb  47,  Moth:  71.— Dr.  Aduir  haa  beat 
dead  many  years, 

Paqe  47,  Note  72.-4  reference  to 
Bnrna's  own  account  of  his  wanderinga, 
which  may  be  gathered  from  the  letters  of 
this  period,  will  serve  to  e^Lpltun  the  matter 
mora  fully.  The  Jacohitism  of  Bums  was 
the  offapiing  of  pm*  national  pride  and 
natiotud  tradition.  1'he  Stnarts  were  Scots, 
and  Scot*  who,  iu  the  earlier  days  of  their 


dyuasty,  had  redected  some  glory  upon  the 
land  of  their  birth,  and  contributed  lome 
share  la  fier  aon^a,  above  all.  Their  deg^e- 
racy  was,  by  the  way ; — the  degradation  of 
more  recent  Stuarts  could  not  obliterate  the 
charm  which  the  patriotic  enthusiasm  wai 
apt  to  fling  about  Uieir  very  weakneaaea.  It 
is,  however,  well  known  that  the  same  aenti- 
ment  of  opposition  which  fed  upon  the  name 
of  Stnart,  in  Bums,  gradually  verged  to  the 

charm  faded  before  his  imagination.  The 
following  remarks,  quoted  as  they  are  tmm 


e  of  glass 


'Here  Stnarts  once  in  trhimph  reigne^ 
And  laws  for  Scotia's  weal  orduned ; 
But  now  unroofed  their  palace  atauda, 
llieir  BCeptre'a  swayed  by  other  handa. 
The  injured  Stuart  line  is  gone, 
A  race  outlandish  filli  the  throne— 
An  idiot  race,  to  honour  lost : 
Who  know  them  heat,  despise  them  most.' 
These  lines  haie  nsually  been  attributed  to 
Burns,  notmthstanding  an  obvious  uant  o( 
that  peculiar  concentration  and    emphasis 


tion  of  Burns,  but  of  his  friend  Nicol.    This 

of  those  who  themselves  knew  the  fact  aa  it 
tnily  stood,  and  who  were  well  acquauited 
with  the  high-wrought  feelinga  of  houour 
and  friendship  which  induced  Bums  to  re- 
main silent  under  the  obbquy  whicli  their 
amiiation  entailed  upon  him.  '  ■  •  The  in- 
dividual nhose  acteolian  they  lirst  attracted 
was  a  clerk  in  the  employment  of  the  Carron 
Iron  Company,  then  travelling  throngh  the 


ed  to  arrive  immediately 
e  of  the  poet  and  hii 
inquiry  he  learned  that 


Ho,t,db,  Google 


NOTES  TO  THE 


tavern  eff"aion.  They  who  sai 
on  the  glass  koaw  that  it  wu  n 
writing  of  the  poet ;  but  thi: 
knew  Deither  bia  autograph  doi 

>orld.    On' 


the  wntlns 
t  the  hand- 


chose  to  coniider  il 


grieied  to  lind  that 
ous  tale  ]iad  been  so  widely  apread  and  ao 
generally  believed.  The  reason  of  the  cold 
uid  conatramed  receptioD  he  met  with  from 
■Oloe  distinguished  friends,  which  *t  the  lime 
he  could  not  oc«ount  for,  was  now  eiplauied. 


.e  felt 


ently  b 


med  with  a 


ID   ted     m  esun       1. 

]e  ec    ar 

melan  ha  Burna  m  te  ani! 

charac   ru  am 

not  the  author;  but  FU  be  damned  ere  1 
hetray  the  authra.  It  would  ruin  him — he 
ia  my  hiend.'  It  is  uuneceasary  to  add, 
that  to  this  resolution  be  ever  after  remained 
firm." 

Page  47,  Note  73.— The  Mrs.  Hamilton 
here  alluded  lo,  was   the  mother  of  Mr. 


e,  Clacl 


'4.— Mn.  Btui 
.lit  ber  family  d 
ar  of  all  tlie  Br 


nlaliim  of  Dav 
II.,  and  haa  never  been  supposed  to  atai 
higher  in  genealogy  than  aa  a  descendant  ol 
younger  brother  of  the  lather  of  King  Kobci 
Tlie  mun  Une  of  the  Clackinannan  family,  tl 
head  of  Che  name  in  Scotland,  became  eitin 
in  the  penon  of  Benry  Sruce,  the  husbu 


of  tbia  old  ladj,  and  is 
the  Earl  of  Slgin,  in  «h 
hall  the  sword  and  helm 


widow  of  Henry  Bruce  of  Clackmannan, 
November  4, 1791,  at  the  age  of  nmety- 
Tliere'        "  ■  .... 


1 1777,  in  Ihe  p. 


dr.  R  S( 


lieff,  of  Edinblltgh. 

Pagk  43,  Note  7S.— The  bard  Bnioe 
waa  no  longer  living  at  this  period !  he  died 
a  few  years  before  at  au  early  age, 

Paqe  4S,  Note  76,— To  Dr.  Curiie  alone 
we  are  indebted  for  this  contribution ;  it  is 
eitracied  from  a  letter  addressed  to  liimaelf 

'Page  49,'  Note  77.— This  reasoning 
m^lil  be  extended,  with  some  modification, 
to  objecis  of  sight  of  every  kind.  To  have 
formed  befoteband  a  distinct  picture  in  the 
mind,  of  any  interesting  person  or  thing, 
generally  lessens  the  pleasure  of  the  first 
meeting  with  them.  Though  tliia  picture  be 
not  superior,  or  even  equal  lo  the  reality, 
atill  it  can  never  be  eipeeted  to  be  an  enact 
reaemblance;  and  the  diaappointment  felt  at 
finding  the  object  sometiiiiig  different  from 
wliat  was  expeeled,  incerrupta  and  dimiiUahes 
the  emotions  that  would  oiberwiae  be  pro. 

intervievr  gives  more  pleasure  than  the  tirsC. 
—See  the  Etanfxts  of  the  PUiloaBphy  of  the 

inblications  as  The'  Guide  'to  the  Lakca, 


every  ai 


ctibcd  in  Ihe 


.  ind  sometimes  »i 
dereble  eui^eration  of  language,  are  in  this 
point  of  view  objectionable. 

Pace  49,  Note  78.- This  young  lady, 
subsequently  married  to  Dr.  Adur,  was  Miss 
Katharine  Hamilton,  sister  to  tlie  poet'a 
intimate  friend.  Mr.  Gavin  Hamilton. 

Pagb  49,  Note  79. — Amongst  others,  in 

water-fovil  ui  Loch  Turit;"  ofthedat«o( 
these,  however,  there  ia  some  doubt,  for 
there  ia  more  reaaon  to  attribute  them  to  a 
previoua  visit  to  the  U^hlauda.  If  this 
conjecture  be  correct,  they  were  probably 

Ochtertyre,  in  Perthshire,  {as  it  is  in  the  im- 
mediate vicinity  of  this  place  that  Locb- 
Turit  IS  utualed),  in  the  month  of  June. 
Allusions  and  descriptions  of  a  similar  nature 


n  moat  apiilkable,  aa  regard* 


Hosted  by  Google 


LIFE  OF  BURNS. 


tlie  first  inttoduction  of  the  poet  into  high 
Borietj.  Bnt  in  the  winter  which  preceded 
this  period,  he  had  heen  the  lion  of  the  heat 

Page  50.  Note  ai.— The hnmble  petition 
of  Bruar  Watfir. 

Pags  50,  NoTB.aa.— This  account  is 
rived  from 


Wall 


r.  Cunn 


mdebled  for  this, 

tioulars  relating  to  Bums,  The  letter  in 
qncstiou  is  datal  frouj  Terth,  October  £4Ch, 
1797. 

Page  60,  Note  83,— This  gentleman,  M 

the  administration  of  William  Pitt,  and  was 
e  peerage  by  the 


ited  for 


BQhsequeutly  raised  ti 
title  of  Lord  Melville, 
better  kiioan  as  the  Rt.  Hon,  Henry  Di 
Page  51,  Note  84.— Such  is  tho 
port  of  a  letter  addressed  to  Dr.  Curri 


Paqe   51,  Note   85.— The  measure  m 
which  ^hese  lines  are  composed,  was  intended 

Scotch  air  of  Morajr. 

Pagb  51,  Note  8S.— The  subjoined  par- 
ticulars, published  by  Mr.  Lockhart,  may  he 

onr  Biography.  "  At  this  time  the  publica- 
tion called  Johtatm'a  Matieal  M-ascam  was 
eonducted  at  Edinburgh, 
appears  to  have  early  preva 

afford  him  his  a"  ' 

of  his  materia. 


„.I  • 


le  second  volnme,"  continues  Mr.  Lockhart, 

which  appeared  in  March  1788,  we  find 

0  fewer  than  five  songs  by  Bums : — t»o 

lat  bate  been  already  mentioned  {Clorinda, 

id  HoK  pleJisiFiit  the  BanJct  ef  the  cltttr 

mding  Deaoa),  and  three  far  better  than 

tliem,    namely,     ThtJiM    Memie's   Bonus 

Manf,    that    grand   lyric   which    runs    as 

'lUowa ;— 

Farewell  ys  dnnjreons  duk  and  strong; 

ITie  wretch's  destmy  ;— 
Macphersou's  time  will  not  be  long 
On  yonder  gallows'  tree, — ' 
both  of  which   performances  bespeak  tbe 
recent  impressions  of  his  highland  visit,- 
and,  lastly,  Whiille.  a-'Jl  I  will  come  Co  ttef, 
iiB)  iad,    Bntna  had  been,  from  bis  youth 
upviards,  an  euthusiastic  hiver  of  ^  old 
minstrelsy  and  music  of  his  country  \   bnt 
«  studied  both  snhjects  with  fat  better 
tunities  and  appliances  than  he  could 
commanded  previously ; 


be  tiiat  we  may  d 


i  poetry  t 
-vith  thosi 


e  Ins 


which  had  bitlkcrlo,  ii 

not  deserve  to  be  iuinioital.  It  is  very  well 
known  that  from  this  time  Burns  com- 
posed very  few  pieces  but  songs ;  and 
whetherne  ought  or  ought  not,  to  regret 
that  such  was  flie  case,  must  wholly  depend 
upon  the  esUmate     ' '  '  '       "  ' ' 


."  [Tbis,  indeed,  is  evident 
I  addressed  by  Burns  himself 
10  his  dif^reut  friends,  which  will  be  found 
amoiigst  his  correspondence  of  tbis  period, 
and  in  which  he  motions  the  earnest  intei 
which  he  was  taking  in  the  publicatjon,  i 
the  request  of  its  editor  that  lie  ihonid 
do  BO,]  "  Though  Green  tfrow  tlte  Raahet  0  j' 

and  which  appears  in  the  first  vohime,  nub- 
K'hed  in  1787,  many  of  the  old  ballad) 
included  in  that  volnme  best  traces  of  bii 
baud."  [Had  Mr.  lockhart  eiamiued  i 
little  more  closely,  or,  had  he  possessed  the 
material  which  has  since  ftllen  into  "  " 
bauds,  he  would  have  discoYcrcd  that 


their  descendants  or  successors,  are  very 
likely  to  agree.  Mr.  Walker,  wbo  is  one  of 
those  who  lament  Bums's  eomparative- 
dereliction  of  the  species  of  compositiaiii 
which  he  most  cultivated  in  the  enr^  day» 


that  if  Bums  had  not  taken  1 
he  would  probably  have  w 
nothing,  amidst  the  vaiions 
company   and  diss 


aay  ut 


at  leas 


arthly 


■d" — LOOKUAI 


lard  surrounded  him, — 
>f  the  active  duties  of  life 
IS  at  length  a~ 


«  found, 
ot  the  Ayrshire  Bard;  and  that  (he 
even  the  work  of  his  favourite  Skinner,  had 


To  Hiis  Mr.  Lock- 
haft  "might  have  added,  or  Mr.  Walker 
ht  have  suggested,  the  peculiarly  resUesi 
desultory  nature  of  his  disposition,  which 
ing  been  harrassed  end  rendered  mora 
stantly  unsettled  by  a  series  of  succes- 
ibarra*. 


a,  &c.,  forbad  the  lengthened  pi 


Lit  of  ■ 


Hosted  by  Google 


46? 


B.V.J  ]tiege  Bdhje^  and  whicb  rendered  versa 
«  liud  of  ssfety  i™l?e  wherehj  [he  ebulli- 
tion of  vexation,  lorrow,  or  escateniBiit  ol 
any  kind  found  vent,  and  in  \ihich  the 
brUHancy  of  a  mnmentary  lliab  of  imagery 

(bund  life  Bud  Ught  like  a  paaaing  m 

[Ed.] 

Page  El,  Note  87.— Bums  vta  oc 


NOTES  TO  THE 
enthu! 


r.  Willi 


of  the  laasteis  of  t 
portion  in  which  Bui 


auks,  or 


igh  school  The 
isiiled  overlonlicd 
of  tbe  Register 
house  vas  at  that  time  called 
No.  3,  St.  James's  Square,  (since  No.  S(),i 
and  it  was  £he  top  atory  which  wa«  in  tbe 
occupation  of  ilr.  C.  Ic  was  in  the  month 
of  SecembH  of  this  year  (1787)  that  Bunui 
first  met  and  became  acqiiuntad  with  tbe 
celebrated  Clarinda  (Mil.  Mac  Lehose)  at 
a  tea  party  iu  the  bouse  of  Miss  Nimnn 
(of  some  litemry  celebtity)  in  Aliisun'a 
Square,  Polter  Row.  Mrs.  Mac  Lehoae, 
ffboge  pcrsniiel  beaut;,  amiable  disposition, 
and  remarkable  taste  arid  intelligence  made 
*o  deep  au  impression  upon  the  poet,  was 
at  this  time  (and  had  an  been  siore  the  deser- 
tion of  her  huabanit,  who  liad  betaken  bim- 
aelf  to  tbe  West  Indies  in  guest  of  ibrtune), 
residii^  with  her  yoiuig  children  in  F.din- 
bnrgh  upon  very  limited  means,  chieHy 
supplied  by  tbe  friends  or  members  of  her 
own  &uuly.  The  channi  of  her  person 
and  conversation,  added  to  the  peculiar 
interest  of  her  «toiy,  irhich  iuTolTcd  the 
tender  chord    of  uv"" --■'--■ ■■    -■■ 


1  ouc  of  those 
Dades  sprung  np  hctween  thi 
only  be  underatood  by  pera 

of  equally  reriiieil  sensibilities  and  purity  of 

pnnciple.  The  * 

Tas  coastant    and    innocent,  as    may    be 
fathered  fron     '      '  "        ■    .    ^  i   • 


e  poet.    It  h 


■aid    that  the    publication,    of   Mrs.  Mac 

Bnma  to  her,  was  to'be  te^retted,  and  was 
to  be  attributed  to  the  indiscretion  of  her 
friends.  It  does  not  at  all  appear  that  she 
vas  opposed  to  their  publication  after  her 
death,  nor  could  any  thing 


pon  her  than  the 
^ciprocai  ccnespondeius. 
IE  sa,  Note  38,— ITie  comuu 
I  lytic  piece  n-as  subsequently  ii 
into  the  CkrnallieT'i  Lamail,  and 


it  of  the  classics,  aai 
had  his  house  and  groinida  purniaherl 
thickly  with  passages  of  ancient  ivisdom.  It 
is  necessary  to  distii^iush  his  house,  situated 
near  Stitling,  from  Ochtertyra  near  Cr^ieff, 

was  also  entertauted*    Mr.   Eanisaj  died 
at  bis  house  of  Ochtertvre,  March  2,  1B14, 

I'AdB  52,  Note  90.— Eitract  of  a  letter 
from  Mr.  Bara^ay  to  Dr.  Currie.  'ITiia 
incorrigibility  of  Bun 


Lted  bi 


1  to  his 


,    of   which    I 


iiry  '  proufa    might    be 

Pa'qs  52,  NoTB  91,— Patrick  Millw, 
Esq.,hBd  Tcaliaed.aa  abaiikrcm  Kdiiibnrgh, 
the  means  of  purchasing  the  estate  of  Uals- 
nintou  on  the  Nith.  He  was  a  man  of 
enlightened  mind,  end  inuchmechfttric^  iuj-e- 
nuity,  the  latter  of  which  qualities  he  dis- 
plsyed  iu  tbe  inreutioa  of  a  vessel  propelled 
by  paddled  wheels,  to  which,  at  tite  augge^ 
tion  of  luB  chUdreu^a  preceptor,  Mr.  Taylor, 
the  steam  enjioe  was  afterwards  applied,  so 
that  he  waa  errahled  to  make  tbe  JirsI  iiscer- 
faiiied  extmpli^tiim  of  tteani  nmigaHoit 
upon  a  small  Me  near  his  honse,  in  October 
1783.  Some  diacDuraging  drcumstances, 
unconnected  with  tbe  laveuUon,  «ere  the 
sole  means  of  prereoting  him  from  bringing 
it  into  practical  operation — an  honour 
which  was  reserved  for  the  American 
Fullon,  Mr.  IrEillei  died,  December  9th, 
1B15. 

Page  52,  Note  92.- Mr,  Heron  state* 

woa  owinx  to  the  kindness  of  Mr.  Aleiauder 
Wood,  snrgfon,  laffeeiionately  wmembered 
hi  Eihubnrgh  by  the  appellation  of  Sandi) 
iViniill,  who  having,  while  in  »tteiidanco 
OD  Burns  for  his  bruised  limb,  heard  him 
express  Ida  uishes,  waited  on  Mr.  Graham, 
of  Fiiitry,  one  of  the  conimisuoners,  by 
whom  the  name  of  tlie  poet  was  inunediatly 

Page  53,  Note  93,— The  Edinbnt^h 
Magsiine  for  Jnne  1799.  cmitains  the  follow- 
iiig  statement,  apparently  from  authority : — 
"J!r.  Jlilier  offered  Mr.  Botns  the  choice 
of  several  Anns  on  the  estate  of  DalswmtOD, 
which  were  at  that  time  out  of  lease.  Mr. 
Burns  gave  the  preference  to  the  farm  ol 
Ellisland,  most  channuigly  situated  on  the 
banks  of  the  Nith,  contaming  upwards  of  a 
hundred  acres  of  most  eicellejit  land"  (this 
must  be  taken  with  a  deduelion),  "then 
worth  a  rent  of  team  eighty  to  a  hundred 
^tmdi.     Mr.  Miller,  ^ler   (bowing  Mr. 


Hoifdb,  Google 


LIFE  OF  mjESS. 


Tnylow  rent  of  fifty  pounds.  And,  in  eddi- 
tion  to  this,  wben  Mr,  BuruB  argued  tbe  tack, 
Mr.  MUkr  presented  him  with  two  hundred 
pound),  to  enable  hira  to  eudote  and  tm- 


Vb.  MiUer' 


t  for  this 


nt  the  sum 
M  least  four  years' 


Miller  gave 
Mr.  Mille 

John  M'Morrine,  Esq.,  st  uuieteen  hnndred 
pounds,  leaving  to  hiinaelf  seten  acres  on 
the  Dalswiuton  side  of  the  river."  Mr. 
liDckhtrC,  on  the  other  hand,  slateB  that  the 
lease  waa  tar  four  suceesaive  terms,  of  nine- 
teen years  each,  at  fifty  pounds  for  the 
first  three  jeara'  crops,  and  seventy  for  all 
the  rest;  Mr.  Miller  giving  three  hundred 
pounds  to  renew  the  ferin-house  and  offices, 
and  agreeing  to  defray  the  expense  of  any 

Citations  which  Dums  miglit  make  on  the 
ka  of  the  river. 

Page  54,  Note  94.— Ib  appoail*  illas- 
tration  of  the  feelinja  roused  hj  this  cir- 
cnmstance,    we  have    the    followii^    lines 

111  partake  wi'  iiae-i>ody; 
m  tek  cuckold  frae  nane, 
111  gie  cuckold  to  noe-body. 


son,  of  Craigdarroch,  so  well  known  for  hta 

an  accidental  injury  occasioned  by  a  fidi  from 
his  chaise,  acconling  to  some,  after  the  death 
of  Burns,  but  more  autheuEically,  tbres 
months  he/ore  that  event,  vis.,  in  the  month 
of  March,  1796.     Sir  Robert  Laurie   tha 

engaged  in  contests  of  a  bloodier  nature^ 

Paob  54,  Note  96.— Redpectine  Bams^ 
appointment  to  the  Eidse,  Mr.  W.  HiaA 
wrote  in  the  following  termi  lo  Mr.  &, 
Ainalie,  ftom  Editihui^h,  August  13, 1790: 
— "  As  to  Bums,  poor  folks,  like  you  and  I, 
must  resign  all  thoughts  of  future  cones' 
pondence  with  him.  To  the  pri^^e  of  ap- 
plauded genius  is  now  superadded  the  pnde 
of  otflce.  He  was  lalely  raised  to  the  dignity 
of  an  Examiner  of  Exdse,  which  b  a  step 


Herefore,  we  can  expect  no  less  tfian  that 
his  language  will  bcconie  perfectly  Horalia* 

I  will  see  him  in  a  fortnight  hence,  and  if  I 
find  that  Beelzehuh  has  infiaced  his  lieart, 
hke  a  bladder,  with  pnde  and  given  it  the 
'  "        '  '    ■  effect,  you 


I  will  bi 


1  him  ID 


eihgy  and  w 


ru 

borrow  fr* 

nae-body. 

lam 

11 

Iliae 

rii 

nae-hody's 
be  slave  to 
Bguidhra 
tak  dunts 

ord, 

me-body! 
dword,' 
cue  nae-body. 

nibt 
I'll 

Ifiia 

I'll 

-body  care 
care  for  na 

free, 

nae-body; 
fornix 
e.body. 

Pace  54,  Note  95 
Whistlfl  celebrsles  a 
among  three  gentlemen 
Bums  a^ipears  as  umpi 

acclianahan  co 
of  Nitlisdale,  w 
e.    Mr.Hiddel 

e  Death  of  Robert  Biddei    From  h 


■orldlyaf 


OS  by  no 


1  sagaaty,  observaii    . 

'erancfl  required  from  a  man  of  tli« 

OoloncL  Fullerton  has  paid  him  a 

imenton  alaimer-hke  piece  of  acumen 

ite,  1793 ; — "  la  iwder,"  he  says,  "  to 
It  the  danger  arising  from  horned 
in  studs  and  strav-yards,  the  best 
s  mode  is  to  cut  out  the  budding  knob,  or 
"  ,he  hom,i>-hilethe  calfisveryyoung, 
IS  sui^eiled  la  me  by  Mr.  Eobat 
whose  general  talents  are  no  less 
LOUS  than  the  poetic  powers  which 
ne  so  much  honour  to  the  county 


Pask   ; 


Note   98,— This  bowl  waa 


Friar's  Carse  was  ca 


It,  the  mansion  of  the  femily  of  ArgyiCL 
o  improve  hia  l  The  stone  is  the  lapli  olloris.    The  punidi- 
Mr,  Fergus-  |  bowl  passed  through    tha    bands  aC  Mi 


Ho,t,db,  Google 


NOTES  TO  THE 


Aleiander  CiiDningliam,  jewel!er,  io  'Eim- 
bvagh,  tn  those  of  Mr.  Hasiie,  present 
representative  of  Paisley  iu  parliament,  who 

fui  it— a  sum  that  nould  have  set  the  poet 
on  his  1(^9  for  ever. 

PiQE  56,  Note  99,— Tliia  ballad  begins 


lC9  silver  light  on  towet  and  tree. 
Paoe  56,  Note  100.— Mr.  Gordon  It 


Elossar;,   sigiiiSes  the  brink  or   margin  of 

Page  57,Note  105.— The  identical  Lord 
Selkirk,  of  whom  Sir  'V^'aller  Scott  haa 
furnialied  ua  with  a  smart  and  interesting 

Paqb'sS,  Note  103.— Mr.  Chambera's 
nliiable  contributions  to  the  anecdotes  and 
tnditiotis  relating  to  Bums,  furnish  ua  with 
the  fDllowiDK  collectanea  :— 

"Mr,  Ladyinaa,  an  English  commerdal 
triTell^,  alighting  one  nftcrnoon,  in  the  year 
1794,  at  Brownhiit,  a  stage  about  thirteen 
miles  from  Dumfiiea,  was  informed  b;  the 
landlord  that  Mr.  Burnt,  the  celehrated  poet, 

beat  possible  opportunity  of  being  introduced 
to  the  company  of  the  cleverest  man  in 
Scotland.  Mr.  lodyman  immediately  re- 
qneated  the  honour  of  on  introduc^on,  and 
was  forthwith  shown  into  the  room  in  which 
the  bard  was  sittin?  with  two  other  gentle- 
men of  the  road.  I'he  landlord,  who  vna  e. 
forward  sort  of  a  man,  and  stood  upon  no 
ceremony  with  Surns,  presented  Mr.  Lady- 
loan;  and  while  the  poet  rose  and  received 

which  always  marked  his  conduct  towards 
strangers,  set  down  himself  along  with  his 
guests,  uid  railed  in  the  conversation.  - 

When  Mr.  Ladyman  entered  the  inn,  it 
was  about  two  o'clock.  The  poet  had  been 
drinking  since  mid-day  with  the  two  gentle- 
men, and  was  shghtly  elevated  nith  liquor, 
but  not  to  sucli  It  degree  as  to  make  any 

He  did  not  speak  much,  or  take  ony  eager 
share  in  the  convcitatian.  He  frequently 
leant  down  his  head  upon  the  edge  of  the 
table,  and  was  silent  for  a  considerable  time, 
■s  if  he  had  been  suffering  hodily  pain. 
However,  when  opportunity  occurred,  ha 
would  start  op,  and  say  something  shrewd 


or    decisive    upon    the    subject   fn   agita^ 

About  an  honr  after  Mr.  Ladyman  arrived, 

and  bacon,  &c.,  of  which  the  Uudlord  partook, 
like  the  rest  of  the  company,  evidently  to 
the  displeasure  of  (lie  poet.  During  the 
course  of  the  subsequent  toddy,  Mr.  Lady- 
man ventured  to  request  of  Burns  to  let  tha 
company  have  a  small  specimen  of  his  poetry 
upon  any  subject  he  liked  to  think  of-' just 
onytbing,  in  short— whatever  might  come 
uppermost — doggrel  or  not.*      Bums  was 


:y  of  Bacon,  enrh  day  in 


nderstood  that  Bacon  was  the 
dlorl  wloseUbtotintr  d  ng 
lau  es  was  t  us  cleverly  ridiculed, 
i  Mr  Ladymau  can  recollect, 
0    ced  the  h  es  without  the 

un  of  ^oce  ad  apparently 
.  ng  a  y  dilBculty  ui  embodv  ng 

"l  a  e  the'^la^s 


lie  I 


made,  and  so  ttifli  g  was  tl  e  eiert  on  of 
intellect  appue  tly  rcq  ired  that  he  d  d 
not  put  t  down  Dpoi  the  table  but  ua  ted 
till  he  concluded  the  epigra  n  and  tl  en 
drank  off  I  a  1  q  or  am  d:t  tl  c  roar  of  ap 
plauselhatensued.  Thela  dlordbadrel  red 
some  little  t  me  before,  oCtierw  se  Burns 
would  not,  perhaps,  have  chosen  him  as  the 
subject  of  his  satire.  There  is  no  doubt, 
however,  tliat  he  would  see  and  hear  enough 
of  it  afterwards  :  for  Bums,  at  the  earnest 
entreaties  of  the  company,  immediately  com- 
mitted it  to  the  Breath  of  Fame,  hy  writing 
it  upon  one  of  the  panes  in  the  window 
behind  his  chair,— JE^Iroct  front  an  eitrly 

The  acquaintance  which  Bums  mmntained 
with  a  considerable  number  of  the  gentry  of 
bia  nMghbourhood.  was  not  favourable  to 
him.  They  frequently  sent  him  game  from 
their  estates,  and  disdained  not  to  conie  to 
his  house  to  partake  of  it.    The  huge  quan- 


Hosted  by  Google 


LIFE  OP   BTIRNa 


Yet,  as 


IS  circumiCancea  left  h 


Bellas  kindl;  domestic  habits.  As  lie  wa 
often  detained  by  compaiiy  Irora  im  am«r. 
provided  for  him  by  his  wUe,  she  Bometimei 
on  a  conjectiiie  of  bis  ptobabk  abaeiici 
*ould  not  prepare  that  m  ''  " 
hechaoieJtocomehorai 
ready,  he  was  ne'er  in  il 
irritatedp  hut  woold  adareas  nimaeii  min 
the  greatest  cheerfulness  to  my  siiccedH' 
ii«im  that  could  be  readily  set  before  bun 
l^y  generally  had  ahiindanca  of  good  Dun- 
lop  cheese,  sent  to  tliem  by  tlieit  AjrahiH 
frieods.    The  poet  would  ait  down  to  thai 


List  transgression 


Among  priest-crafted  martyrs ; 
The  gnilbtiueon  peers  shall  wait. 

And  knights  sliBtl  hang  in  garieta 
lioae  despots  long  have  trod  us  don 

And  juages  ate  Ihrir  eDjines— 
Hch  wretched  minions  of  a  ijrown 

Demand  tlie  people's  vengeance. 


I  side,  ai 


ig  and  attending 
.t  lieli 


:r  infani 


,.     disliked  this,  and  . 

Kmonaliated  against  it  in  a  gentle 
did  the  utmost  that  m  him  lay  to  c( 
it,  by  bnying  for  her  the  best  cloiliea  he 
could  afford.  Any  little  novelty  in  female 
drcaa  was  almost  snre  to  meet  mlh  patronage 
"    na — all  irith  the  aim  of  keeping  t-  - 


Slie 


was,  for  instance,  one  ot'lhe  first  pcraona  in 
Dumfries  ivho  appeared  in  a  dresa  of  ging- 
ham—a staff  DOW  common  to  atl,  bat,  at  its 
f.rst  introduction,  rather  coatly,  and  almost 
eielusively  used  by  persona  of  superior  eon- 

Pagb  53,    NOTB    104,— Mr.    Lockhart 

political  tentimenia,  and  the  nature  of  the 
ciroumMancea  here  alluded  to.  He  leaves 
the  whole  matler  in  a  state  of  doubt,  for 
vhicli,  we  think,  there  is  no  jast  occasion. 
Bums  unquestionably  felt  as  a  zealous  par- 
tisan of  the  French  Revolution.  A  mind  so 
g^eroua  and  upright  as  hia  could  liave  taken 


Then  let  us  toast,  with  three  times  three. 
The  reign  of  peace  and  lihertie." 

A  lady  with  whom  a   recent  editor  ol 

being  present  in  the  theatre  of  Dumfries, 
duriniF  the  heat  of  the  French  Bevotutioii, 
I,  the  poet,  somewhat  heated 
'    "'  e  pit.      Upon  the 


I  oilier  CO 


l-hat 


uch  » 


a  College,  bis  1 
Bcription  for  an  altar  of  Indcpeiideuce,  ai 
his  'free  of  lAberty,  introduced  into  tlie  pi 
sent  edition  of  his  poems,  are  sufficient  proc 

unpublished  poem  given  by  Mr.  Cunnni 

"  Why  should  we  idly  waste  our  prime 


Andfu 


led,  enlighttmed  youth 
.chfellnw-ereature; 

le  truth 


le  company,  i 
ho  loudly  ah 


up  the  national  aiilhem, 

igle  eiceptiou  of  Bums, 
ed  fa  im.  An  uproir 
ensued,  ana  tne  poet  was  obliged  to  leave 
tlie  theatre.  The  apologists  of  the  govem- 
niBiit  who,  say  wW  they  nill,  neglected 
and  slighted  the  purest  genius  of  hia  ^% 
inake  escapades  of  this  nature  their  eicuse. 
They  attempt,  however,  to  adduce  the 
testimony  ot  Mr,  Aleiai  '      " 


served  ii 
^e  most  hatmie 

the  bard.     Ho 


hia  may  he,  bis  pre 
etarded,  altbuuglL 
iltimatcly  it  was  not  prKvenicu, 

Paoe  KB,  Note  105.— Mr.  lackhart  has 
avoilred  us  with  a  moat  mlerestiug  anecdote 
especting;  (he  elFect  of  the  political  opiniuas 
if  Bums  upon  hia  social  position.  To  thp 
hanie  of  the  Scottish  Whiggism  be  it  re- 
iorded,  "Mr.  David  Maculloch,  a  son  of 
.he  Laird  oI  Ardwell,  haa  told  me  that  he 


Hosted  by  Google 


NOTES  TO  THE 


slone,  on  ihe  shady  aide  of  tbe  princip 

WB3  gaj  with  successive  groups  ofgentlemt 
and  ladiea,  all  diawu  together  for  the  fesl 
Titiea  of  the  night,  not  one  of  wham  appeared 
wiJLing  to  recognise  him.  The  hors 
diiroounted  aud  joined  Bums,  who,  o 
proposuig  to  him  to  crosa  the  street, 
'  Naj,  nay,  my  young  friend — that  s  al 

of  lidy  GrLuiel  li^Uie's  pathetic  baUai 


augallopiugdouaouyon 


tc  v^s  litde  in  Bums^s  diUActer  to  let 
his  feeiiu^  on  certain  subjects  eacape  in  this 
tlishion.  He  immediately,  after  dtin^  these 
veraes,  assumed  llie  sprighthness  of  his  most 
pleasini  manner;  and,  taking  his  yonug 
friend  home  nith  him,  entertained  him  very 

uie  Jean's  singing  of  some  verses  »hich  he 
bad  recently  composed." — LocKHART. 

Page  59,  Note  106.— See  the  poem  enti- 
fled  The  Dumfries  Volunteers,— Curkie. 
Precious  to  one  of  the  pabhc  meetings  of 
this  body — a  regular  field-day,  whieh  was  to 

the  hard  that  something  would  be  expected 
from  him  in  the  shape  irf  a  song  or  speech- 
tic  cuise  that  had  linked  them  together,  and 
eke  in  honour  of  the  martial  glory  of  old 
Scotland.  The  poet  said  notluug,  but  as 
irileDce  gives  eonseiM,it  was  generally  espected 

Jie  approaching  festival  with  another  lytic 
or  energetic  oration.     The  day  at  length 

vsual  loyal  toasts  were  drmik  with  all  the 
honours.  Now  came  the  poet's  turn ;  every 
eye  was  fiied  upon  him,  and,  slowly  llftipg 
his  glass,  he  stood  up  and  looked  around 


countenance,      '  Gentlemi 

«e  never  see  the  French,  nor  the  French  sc 

nsl'    The  toast  fell  Uke  a  'net  blanket,'  t 


'Is  that  a'j"  they  mutCe 
dtoppiu"  down  to  their 
words  of  my  informiml^  » 
'like  so  many  tJd  wives  at 
'  la  that  the  grand  speecii  or  nne  poem  inai 
we  were  to  have  from  him  ? — but  we  could 
hae  expected  uoe  hettet  I'  Not  a  few,  how. 
ever,  'taxed  their  jaws,'  as  the  Ettrick  Shep- 
herd says,  at  the  homely  truth  and  hitmour 
of  the  poet's  sentiment,  heightened  by  the 

after,  in  his  jovial  moments,  Bums  nsed  to 
delight  in  telling  hail  he  had  cheated  the 
volunteers  of  DumtVies."— R.  CARimTHERS, 
in  the  Edi^bargh  lAterary  Journai. 

PiQE  59,  NoTB  107.— These  liiies  were 
published  in  the  perioilicaj  collection  of  Scot- 
Oah  songs  produced  under  tlie  title  of  >Mn- 
soii'a  Mujiical  Mnaeam,  They  bear  date  about 
1791,  and,  ea  the  text  is  given  above,  Ibej 
bear  the  kteat  correcOons  of  the  poet.  It 
is  one  of  the  best  of  Bums's  producljons, 

larly  observed  until  the  first  few  years  of  the 
present  century,  when  the  martial  glory  of 
Great  Britain  had  grown  of  more  general 
admiration,  aud  had  enlisted  a  more  univer- 
sal enthusiasm,  siu^  as  to  overwhelm  all 
haps, 


wpoh 


It  is, 


...  tardy  popularity  that 

Burns  was  readily  dissuaded  at  the  time 
from  repnoting  it  separately,  m  aWejuo,  with 

Page  dl.  Note  108. — According  to  tha 
;hich  is  generally  received  at 


Dumfrie) 


,n  this  conditii 


award,  and  fell  fait 
■  inclemency  of  the 
.  doubly  susceptible. 


Page  B1,  Note  ll)9,--Thia  was  Mrs. 
Biddel.  of  Woodlee  Park. 

PiGB  62.  Note  110.— Accotdmg  to  Mr. 
Cminingham,  "  '     '     - 


reil  after  a  violent 


moment,  and  aprinijiug  to  the  bottom  of  tha 
bed,"  Mr.  Cunningham,  however,  it  is  ad- 
mitted, Buppliea  us  with  this  informatioii  on 
hearsay.  Another  biographer  denies  the 
poaa&ility  of  such  an  elfOrt,  stating  that 

hflusted),  to  have  made  such  a  movement. 
Were  the  question  of  any  importance,  and 
no  better  refuted  than  by  the  ^oaiSxlil]/ 


Ho,t,db,  Google 


LIFE  OF  BUaS8. 


night  cctc^nly  ovFtlhrow  the  denuil  of  his 

which  we  «re  inaebted  to  Df.  Main»!l,  the 
medical  attendant,  who  was  at  the  bedside 
of  the  poet,  in  which  it  is  averred  that  poor 
Binns  expired  with  perfect  calnin*B9,  and  in 
apparent  coQaciouanesa,  after  aome  hours  of 
WW  mntteiin^  delirinoL 

Page  03,  Note  111.— Mr.  Wbyte  ia  the 
anthor  of  ■  poem  entitled  St.  Gserdon'a 
Well,  and  of  the  piece  entitled  a  tnbute  to 
the  memory  of  Bums. 

PiCE  or),  KOTB  113.— Dr.  Car™  men- 
tiona  that  Biima  died  free  of  debt.  Accord- 
ing to  another  biogropher,  however.  "  the 
nrirt  feet  that  he  owed  hut  £7.  4i,  at  that 
period,  aervea,  like  the  e:iceptioEi  with  the 
uUrm  the  report  of  the  bingra-  I 


whicl] 

death,  and  afterwards  recurred  in  delirium, 
was  eiuated  by  a  pressmi  note  for  pajnieut 
of  hia  rej;iniental;,  which  had  been  sent  to 
him  by  Mr,  DoTid  Waiianwon,  a  Dumfriei 
shopkeeper— a  person,  we  have  been  aaanred, 
who  never  could  liave  rewrted  to  anf  ^- 
treme  measure  with  his  illustiioas  debtor. 
Five  poonda,  requested  from  and  promptly 

death,  removed  the  oaoae  of  tlie  terror,  but 
nufDrtonaiely  did  not  oblit^tate  the  feeling 
which  it  liad  raised." 

PiOE  63,  Note  113.— This  Mr.  Stobie 
was  in  the  ordinary  service  of  the  Eicise  as 

said  to  have  spot:en  of  Bums's  mu»cal  ac- 
complishments in  the  following  tertns: — 
"  lie  sang  like  a  iu).'htinga1e ;  but  he  had 
the  voice  of  a  boat."  1^  expression  ap> 
pears  contradicforj ;  but,  by  the  compKmen- 
tary  part  of  it,  he  only  luiderstood,  in  all 
pn^bility,  the  readiness  with  which  the 
— . 1 .  ... —  l; : ,i._Q  requested 


Mr.  Graham  could  not,  in  all  probubiUty,  aa 
cross  country  posts  went  at  that  time,  have 
been  delivered  until  the  16th,  forit  was  only 
dated  on  the  13th. 

Page  84,  Notb  115. — ''During  his  reai- 
dence  in  Glasgow,  a  charaderiatic  inatance 
occurred  of  the  way  in  which  he  would  re- 
press petulance  and  presumption,  A  young 
man  of  aome  literary  pretensions,  who  had 
newly  commenced  business  as  a  bookseller, 

of  Bams's  Poems  in  a  style  so  flippant,  and 
withal  BO  patronising,  as  to  ascite  fieUoga  in 
the  poet  towards  him  very  dilfereiit  nvia 

upon  a  rery  grateful  reception  from  Bums, 
lie  was  particularly  anirious  for  an  early  in- 
troduction to  his  company,  and,  as  his  friends 
*         ■    *  '  -■      '     prepare 


:    making  daiilii 


upon  the  Ayrshire  pfoughman— as  i 
then  the  fashion,  amongst  a  certain  kind  of 
literary  folks,  to  call  the  poet.  At  the 
momeirt  the  introduction  took  place.  Bums 
was  engaged  in  one  of  his  happiest  atid  most 
playful  yeiua  with  my  friend  and  another 
intimate  or  two;  but,  npon  the  gentleman') 

sufficiently  affable,  the  'plouEhman'  assumed 
an  air  of  anch  digniflel  coldneas,  as  fruje 

he  remained  in  his  company." — Corrapond- 
entoflhe  Scalemnn,  1828. 

PfkOE  66,  NoTS  116.— Smellie's  Philo. 
Bophy  of  Natural  History. 

Page   63,  Note    117,— The  aubjouied 

passage  quoted  £nna  Quintilian,  Inst.  Orat. 

ii,  9,  IS  appositely  parcel  to  tiie  aeuse  of 

this  observation  :—Aa  vero  Isocratea  cum 

Ephoro  atqoe  TheopompD  sic  judicara^ 


ilia  knti 


[ITiiji 


I  by 


some  one  else  of  two  different  persons,  who 
although,  they  affected  to  ahaa  Burnt  as  a 
rtpi-oiole  whilst  livi^ig;  (thot^h  God  wot;  the 
poetRould  certainly  not  have  Bought  their 
company),  were  prone  to  boast  of  mm  as  Bu 
BdiaaiHlaiuii  when  bis  reputation  alone  re- 
mained to  hullow  and  endear  popular  recol- 
lectimia.  1  am,  therefore,  much  mt^ined  to 
eioneiate  Mr.  Stohie  from  an  iU-natured  < 
remark,  whidi  seems  scarcely  m 

with  the  tenor  of  his  conduct,]  i  every  oue,  and  hie  la  too  short  to  admit 

Page    63,  Note    lit—The    death  of  I  of  one  man,  hoa-ever    great    his  WlenH, 

Bums  oecurted  on  the  gist  of  July,  and  he  \  acqumng  thia  in  all  of  them.    It  is  only 


ilatem.  aut  m  illo  pene  pnecipiti  con- 
tftfionem  adjuvaodum  docendo  eiiatimaiit, 
eum  alletum  allerius  natura  miscendum 
arhitraretur?  Imbedliis  tamen  ingeniis  sane 
sic  obaequendum  sit,  nt  tsntum  in  id  quo 
vocat  natura,  dueantur.  Ita  enitn,  quod 
solum  posaunt,  melius  effident." 

Page  66,  Note  118.— The  reader  must 

not  auppoae  it  is  conteuded,  that  the  same 

individual  could  have  eicelled  in  all  these 

A  certain  degree  of  instnictiop 

I,  is  neceasary  to  eicellence  in 


Ho,t,db,  Google 


diSftenlty 


*73 

asserted,  that  the  same  talenla, 
applied,  might  }uve  auccesded  i 
thougb,  perhaps,  uoC  equsliy  vc 
And,  aket  all,  tlus  posiuon  i^qu 
limitutiiHiB,  ^ibicli  the  readec's  candoui 
■ud  judgment  will  supply  la  supposing 
that  a  great  poet  might  have  made  a  gieat 

oratot,    Che     physical    quohtiea   ne^^s 

to  oratory  are  pre-auppos^d.    In  suppD 
.1.. . might  hare  nude  a  grea^ 


said  hy  Quintihao,  of  Homer,  "Oni 
eloqiioDtiie  paHihua  exempliuix  eC  ortai 
'       itudy  of  Hob 


eondili.  . 
self  to  poetry,  and 
e  should  hai  e  acquired  a  profitieniy 
ricol  iiumhets,  which  hy  patience  and 
on  mav  he  acquired,  though  the 
iseed  and  chilled  many 


of  tlie  fiist  eltbrts  of 
In  eupposing  that  I 

than  ihe  physical  qu^ 


found  3 


ideed,  ia  assumed 
of  a  general.    To 
it   hardihood    of 
cooinesa  in  the  midst  of  difficulty 
'hich  great  poets  and  orators 


may  be  appealed  t 
Eiiigiihir  propriety,  *hen  ne  are  corn 
for  the  Hniiersahtj'  of  eeiiiua 

Tlie  identity,  or  at  least  the  giea 
larity,  of  the  talents  necestary  to  en 
ill  poetry,  oratory,  painUiig,  and  w, 
ha  admitted  hy  some  "ho  will  he  i 


lined 


The  ni 


e  of  the 


13  of 


le  produced  mote  iastaocea 


of  single  indi 
depertmenta  of  active  and  speculative  hie, 
than  occur  in  modem  Europe,  where  the 
employmeDta  of  men  are  mote  suhdivided. 
Many  of  the  greatest  warriors  of  antiquity 
eicelled  in  literature  and  in  oratory.  That 
they  had  the  Biisdt  of  great  poets  also,  will 
be  admitted,  when  the  qualities  are  justly 
appreciated  which  are  necessary  to  ejid^e, 
combine,  and  command  the  active  energies 
of  a  great  body  of  men ;  to  rouse  that  en- 
thiuiaam  wluch  sustains  fatigue,  hunger,  and 
the  inclemencies  of  Ihe  elements,  and  which 
triumphs  over  Ilie  fear  of  death,  tlie  most 
powei^ul  instinct  of  our  nature. 

Hie  authority  of  Ciuero  may  be  appealed 
to,  in  favour  of  the  close  connection  betwoeii 
a»e  poet  and  the  orator.  "Est  euim 
flnitimus  oratori  poeta,  numeris  adatrictior 
paulo,  verhomm  aiitura  liceniia  bberior," 
iic— Du  OiuTOB.  lib.  i.  c.  IG.  See  also 
lib.  .iii.  c,  7.  It  is  true,  the  example  of 
Cicero  may  be  quoted  i^aiiist  his  opinion. 
His  attempts  in  verse,  which  are  praised 
by  Hutarch,  do  not  seem  to  have  met  tlie 

Wcero    probably    did    — *    *-'-    —"'---- 


to  sdenee  or  natural  knowledge.  On  this 
occasion,  I  may  quote  the  following  obaet- 
vations  of  Sir  William  Jones,  whose  own 
example  will,  hos-ever,  lur  eiceed  in  wei^t 
the  authority  of  his  precepts  ; — '*  Abul  Ola 
Imd  so  flourishing  a  repntatioii,  that  several 
persons  of  uncommon  genins  were  amtri- 
tioui  of  learning  the  art  of  poetrtf  from  so 

scholars  were  Feleld  and  Ehakani,  who  were 
no  less  eminent  for  their  Persian  composU 


profess ;  since  a  fine  imagination,  a  lively 
wit,  an  easy  and  copious  styles  cannot 
possibly  obstruct  the  acquisitioi^  of  any 
science    whatever,    hut    must    necessarily 

lsbouf."-^ir  irUUaM  JotWj  iVefIa,  vol  ii. 
p.  817, 

"     -  87,  Note  119.— These  strienires 


;abhe 


,y,  however,  be  very  considerably  ei 
"^"--'.t  ia  not  the  only  philosopher  who  has 
d  the  deleterious  properties  of  other 
mts,  or  of  other  productions,  which 
all  intents  and  purposes,  employed  as 
ITiera  are  a  great  n^     '         '    ■' 


tain  tlie : 


:ia]ly  difier  from  en 


isidered  under 


usatliem,  «onld  he  curious  and 

useful,    aiie  effects  of  wine  Slid  of  opium  on 

I    the  temperament  of  sensibility,  the  editor 

intended  to  have  discussed  iu  this  place  at 


Hoaoin,  Google 


some  leng^th ;  but  is  found  the  subject  toi 
eiteusive  sncl  too  professionftl  tn  be  intro 
duced  witb  propriety.  The  dilHculty  o 
■baiidoiiLun  Buy  of  these  natcutics  (if  we  ma: 


thousands  of  volumes,  i. 


I   of   intellectual    im- 
28.— Mr.  Bamss-y  of 


Joseph  Mitchell,  and  his  dub  of 

■  >,  about    ITIB,  published  a 

cellaoy,  to  wliioh.  Dr.  Youus, 

of    ]fiffH    TliousMs,    ptefised    i 


is  awalloired  by  the  Asiatics  in  full  iaaei  at 
onc«,  and  the  irxebriate  retires  to  the  solitary 
indDl^fncs  of  his  deliriona  imaginaliona. 
Hence,  the  irtne  drinker  appears  in  a  supe- 
rior li^bt  to  dw  imbiber  of  opium,  a  dis- 

tban  to  the  guatilp  of  his  liquor. 

Page  6B,  Note  120.— Mrs.  BJdJel  of 
Woodlee  Park, 

Page  73,  Nora  I31.--Take,  for  instance, 
tliB  authors  or  colkters  of  the  Delieia:  Poet- 
cram  Seoloram,  and  others. 

P*BE  73,  Note  122.— Ijird  Kames. 

Paqb  74.  NoTB  123.- A  few  Scottish 
ballads,  attributable  to  the  laat  century,  iiave 
tqi^ither  in  the  Pcpys  collection. 


been  i 
biiCwi 


le  autbon 


nps. 


74,  Note  124. — Some  strong  rea- 
sons ars  ajsi)cned  by  a  contributor  signing 
himself  J.  Runcole,  who  luidressea  Mr. 
Ramsay  in  the  second  lolune  of  Tie  Bte,  for 
doubting  the  authenticity  of  a  great  number 
of  Scottish  Songs  of  profiaaedly  romote 
antiquity,  and  of  much  celebrity.  Tlie  qno- 
tatiou  cited  above,  is  extracted  from  a  letter 
addressed  by  Mr.  Ramsay,  of  Ochtertyrc,  to 
Dr.  Currie,  and  dated  Sept.  llth.  1799. 

Page  175,  Note  25— Allan  Ramsay,  it 
Is  said.  BBS  employed  in  the  capacity  of  a 
washer  of  ore,  in  the  lead  mines,  at  Lead 
Hills,  belonging  [0  the  Earl  of  Hopetown, 
Hia  fiithcr  was,  and  had  from  his  youth, 
also  been  a  workman  m  the  aamc  mines. 


only  four),  togethM  with 
the  general  good  character,  sobriety,  and 
intelligencH  of  the  people,  and  the  con- 
venience  of  a  good  libraiy  containiag  some 


"What  bcauUra  docs  Flora  disclose!" 

Page  73,  Note  123.— The  first  line  or 
this  piece  runs  thus : — 
"I  ha™  heard  a  lilting  at  onr  ewe's  milkiug." 

Piqb78,  Note  129- Tliis  Mrs.  Cock- 
bam  died  before  the  poet ;  that  is,  on  the 
S2nd  of  Noiemher.  1794. 

Page  78,  Note  180.— See  tbs  Itiiro- 
dactioH  (0  the  History  of  Poelrg  in  ficollani, 
by  T.  Campbell,  and  an  article  alfordinK  a 
Biographical  Sketch  of  this  writer  in  the 
Sappleiatiil  in  the  Enayelopxilia  BriUnBiiea. 

Paqb  77,  Note  131.— Critics  and  Anti- 
quarians are  equally  divided  on  this  point. 
Mr.  Tytler  has  struggled  very  hard  to 
establish  the  gcunineneia  of  authorship  for 
this  piece,  whilst  air  D.    Dalrymple  most 

Pray,  Sir  David,  where  did  joii  diacovpr  that 
the  lifth  Jomea  was  either  a  wit  or  a  ^loet? 
That  he  was  an  arrant  pedant  is  undoubtedly 

the  first  James  was  certainly  one 

of  the  beat  of  pools  whom  Scotland  has  pro. 
^iccd.  There  is  ample  evidence  of  bis 
iving  fathered  verses,  and  verses  of  very 
great  merit,  aud  of  his  peculiar  love  of  musio 

Pagb  73,  NoTB  132.— ■Hiis  ts  the  title  of 
:e  poem  aelecied  as  an  instance;  aud  being 
ndered  into  English,  woald  mean  The 
Farnter's  Fireside. 

78,  Note  133,- Why  the  acuta 

iig  production,  should,  upon  its 


;    appear 


■uck  tiie 
astonishment,  ia 
to  bo  understood.  I^e  circumstances 
litioa  of  the  poet,  which  dTcctually 


the  accurate  ddineation  of  c 


Ho,t,db,  Google 


H0TE9  TO  THE 

1  of  life,    of  the  hornestea^     Added  to 


Kch,  and 


ich  rattle  sometimea  present  in 

Note  i'44.— The  word  slllg  ij 
be  uodetatood  in  its  offensive 
9  verv  poramooly  osed  by  (he 
•.ry  freincntly  in  the 


PiQB  79,  Note  134.— The  poet's  "Ei 
Best  Cry  Bud  Prayer  to  the  Scottish  Repre-        Paqe  82,  Notb  145. 
■entativea  in  Farliiimeat."  '  in  mind,  that  thmnghDut 

PsoE  79,  Notb  135,— By  a  "  IliKhland  the  Cotter,  there  ia  aii  e 
eill,"  ia  neaot  a  p;ill  of  tke  native  Highland  I  tmclii;  of  the  chnraeter, 
bever^ti,  niuncly,  icAts^.  j  the  poet^s  own  fotber — an  acceptation  w 

Paoe   79,  Note   136. — In  Eiislish,  we  I  adds    much   poignancy   to    many    of 
■honld  eipreas  these  terms  by  the 

Paq'b  73,  Notb  137.— lit  the  "piece 
filled  the  °  Brigs  of  Ayt  " 


be  home 
raitnie  of 

1,  &c..  of 


It,  anld 


Paol;' 


-As  will  be  Be 


thegl,.... „  .    . 

Pagis  "9,  Notes  139  and  140.- The 
"DunKwiii  Clocli"  (or  Toirat  CLook)  and  the 
■Wallace  Towet,"  aie  the  nanus  of  the 
■leeples  of  Ayr, 

Paue   80,  Note  141.- Tliis  festival  is    var 
■till  very  popularly  observed  (or  rather,  was  i  the 

had  be™  revived  of  late  years)  in  some  parts    venientlj 
of  Irelaud.    In  the  remote  and  aborijri"  ""■ 
districts   of   North  Wales  a'  "    " 


Fade  83,  Notb  146. — It  is  ■  pecuUar 
feature  of  the  Scottish  minstrelsy  that  it 
alKianLis  hi  dialogues  betiteen  man  and  wife, 
I'o  the  labours  of  Mr.  Fitiknton,  in  his 
earnest  and  sueceaafiii  pursuit  of  remote 
Scottish  literary  productions,  ve  are  in- 
debted for  a  multiplicity  of  paEallel  passages 


Park  80,  Note  142.— Pot  tnil 
exactness  of  pencilling,  for  -the  brightness  of 
colour,  and  fct  the  delicacy  and  gentleness 
of  description,  this  passage  is  almost  un- 
rivallcil.   !n  us  own  melting,  aoft,  impressive 

bold  dc-cviijii(iiis  of  Thomson  here  compared 
with  ilt[.4  p.kas.i^e,  have  aruggedness,  nlmosC 
a  har.sluieis,  which  destroys  all  jiarallel;  and 
the  beautiful  lines  of  Lord  Byron,  whieli 


Tisst 


plicity  of  this  passagi 

"Ti 

At  midnight  o'er  the 

'llie  song  and  oa      ' 

Page  81,  Ni 


IS  for  instance  :— 


,  may  have  two 
Uled  with  both 


PiG»  83,  Note  147,— The  inhjmaed  ei- 
tiacts  may  be  dted  as  illuslrBtions  of  the 
q^uestion.  Urat  let  us  detail  the  romance  of 
a  Scottish  aong  of  the  early  part  of  the 
eighteenth  Centnry.  We  have  a  H^hland 
kd  wooing  a  Lowland  hiBs  to  &y  with  liiui  to 
the  Highlands,  and  share  bis  fere  and  fortnne. 
The  ecejie  is  on  the  banks  of  a  most  beauti' 
ful  stream  (Ettric  hauks),  in  the  cahn  and 


I  met  my  ladsie,  braw  and  tight, 

Come  wading  barefoot  a'  her  lane  i 
My  heart  grew  light,  I  ran,  I  Aang 


In  another  of  these  pieces  we  have 
heroine  lamen^ng  o'er  the  sweet  recollect 
of  the  trysting  place,  and  raptured  h 


.  „  Google 


LIFE  OF  EUItNS. 


Ho*  biythe,  each  moiu,  was  I  to  see 

Mt  swain  coine  o'er  (h«  hl]t; 
He  Eldpt  the  burn,  und  flew  to  me:— 

Oh !  the  broom, — the  bonnie,  boanie  broom, 
The  Broom  of  Cowden-Knowes ! 

With  his  pipE,  aod  mif  ew(^. 

Paqb  83.  Note  148.— Tliat  the  dramatic 

of  *u  early,  or,  what  amounts  to  the  same 
thing,  of  a  rude  stage  of  sodety,  may  be 
illustrated  by  a  reference  to  the  most  aiirieni 
compositionB  that  »e  know  of,  the  Hebrew 
Bcriptores,  and  the  wtithiga  of  Homer,  The 
'    'aloguc  is  adopted  in    the  old 

the  situations  desetibed  become  interesting, 
■nils  sometimes  produces  a  very  atriliing 
eflfect,  of  which  an  instance  may  bo  given 
from  the  balkd  of  Edam  o'  Gordon,  a  com- 


le  o(  Rhodes,  in  the  absence  ot  .  .  ..    , 

is  attacked  by  tlie  robber  £doni  o'  Gordon, 
The  lady  stands  on  her  defence,  beats  off  tlie 
«3s»ilflHls,  aud  wounds  Gordon,  who,  iii  his 
TB^e,  orders  the  castle  to  be  set  on  lire, 

leunfrom  theeipostulatianof  the  lady. who 
is  represented  as  standing?  on  the  battlements, 
and  remonstrating  on  this  barbarity.    She  is 
iiitertupted: — 
"  Oh  then  bespaki 


Says,' 


in  Ms  nou 


For  the  reek  it  smitheii  me,' 
'I  wad  gie  a'  my  gmtd,  my  childe, 

Sae  wad  I  a'  my  fee. 
For  sne  blast  o'  the  westlm  wind. 

To  bhiw  the  reek  frae  thee.' " 
The  drcumstantialit^  of  the  Scottish  love- 
■ongs,  and  the  dramatic  form  which  prevails 
BO  generally  in  them,  probabiy  arises  from 
their  hnng  the  descendants  and  suceessors 
of  the  ancient  ballads.  In  the  beautiful 
modem  song  of  Mary  ot  Castle-Cary,  the 
dramatic  (onn  has  a  very  happy  effect.  The 
aanie  may  be  said  of  Donald  and  noru,  and 
Come  under  my  Pladdie,  by  tlie  same  author, 
Mr.  Macniel. 

Paoe  B4,  Note  149.— Jlrs.  Barbanld 
has  lallea  into  an  error  in  this  respect.  la 
her  pre&tory  address  to  the  works  of  Colluis, 
speaking  of  the  naturat  objects  that  may  be 
employed  to  give  interest  to  the  descrip- 
tion of  passion,  she  obsen'es ;— "  They 
present  an  inexkauatible  variety,  ^m  the 


and  dnnanion,  to  the  Gentle  Shepherd  of 

pails  through  the  frosts  and  snows  of  theur 
less  genial,  hut  not  less  pastoral  countiy." 
Tlie  damsels  of  Ramsay  do  not  walk  in  tha 
midst  of  frost  and  snow.  Almost  ell  the 
scenes  of  the  Gentle  Shepherd  are  laid  in 
the  open  air,  amidst  beautiful  natural 
objects,  and  at  the  most  genial  season  of  the 
year,  Ramsay  introduces  all  his  acts  with 
a  pre&tory  description  to  assure  us  of  this. 
The  faqlt  of  the  climate  of  Brit,^n  is 
not,  that  it  does  not  afford  us  the  beautie« 

beauties  is  comparatively  short,  and  even 
uncertain.  There  are  days  and  nights,  even 
in  the  northern  division  of  the  island, 
which  equal,  or  perhaps  surpass,  what  are  to 
be  found  in  the  latitude  of  Sicily,  o"    " 


te  Ode  ( 


a  his  e: 


<a  at  tlie ; 


erical  oggie- 


disproport 

gates  of  the  seies,  seem  to  consider  the 
number  stated  in  round  figures  ahnvc^  B> 
inadequate,  'nie  latter  propositinii  is  easily 
granted,   bat    the    current    juke    against 

and  prevailuig  cause  for  the  sponianeoua 
c£patriadon  in  question.  He  baa  en- 
terprise, and  requires  a  broader  field, 
and,  above  all.  more  ample  resources;  and 
iitry  would  be  limited 


but  for  thl 
Whether,  o 


;,  the    beautiful    a 


J  of 


"  Their  groves  of  sweet  myrtle," 
iddressed    to    these  wandering    fellow 
irjmen,     I     am     fully     prepared    to 
it  its  eicellence,  and  the   probability 
it  nil]  be  read  with  as  mucii  admiration 


Page  69,  Note  151.— Tljis  was  in  reply 
to  arepoi^wbich  had  come  to  the  ears  of  Dr. 
Curne,  to  the  effect  that  a  lioleut  hurricane 
which  actually  levelled  a  portion  of  the 
cottage,  occurred  simnltaueou^f  with  the 
birth  ot  Bums, 

Pahe  90,  Note  152.— This  was  Mt. 
Feter  F.wait,  of  Manchester,  a  friend  of  Di. 


Hosted  by  Google 


478 


Page  SS,  Notb  1S3.— Tlie  banseholi 
efffcts  of  Mm  Bnms  were  sold  by  pobli. 
auction  on  the  lOth  and  Uth  of  April,  and 
from  the  gnxtet;  of  the  public  to  possess 
relics  of  this  interesting  honaehold.  brought 

Jhunfrici  banner,  "  the  mctiooeec  com- 
tneaced  vith  small  articles,  and  wh«n  he 
came  to  a  hrokea  copp«r  coffee-pot,  there  vf  re 
■0  many  bidilera,  that  the  price  paid  exceetled 
twenty-fold  the  iuttiosic  value.  A  tea-kettla 
of  tlie  same  metal  sncceeded,  and  reached 
£3  sterlinR.  Of  the  linens,  a  table-cloth, 
matted  1793,  whieh,  speaking  commereialiy, 
■--  —  -h  half-a-r '-  -'-^"  -- 


ADDITIONAL  NOTE  TO  THE 
I 


via  inocked  down  at  £5.  7s.    Many  other 

harii  battle  to  fight;  but  his 
and  his  puise  obvioasly  not 

the  older  and  plainer  the  fnmiture,  the  better 

it  sold.    The  rusty  iron  top  of  a  shower- 

the  story  t™  .hat  he  had 

hath,  which  Mrs.  Donlop,  of  Doiilop,  sent 

Kichatdsoo  to  secure  a  pr 

to  the  poet  when  afflicted  with  rheumatiam, 

WBi  bought  by  a  Carlisle   gentleman  for 

:i.  89. ;  and  a  tow  wooden  kitchen  dudr,  on 
fhich  the  late  Mrs.  Bums  ut  when  nursing 
her  children,  was  run  up  t{i  £3.  Ts.  The 
crystal  and  china  were  much  eoteted,  and 

Even  au  old  fCnder  reached  a  figure  which 
wonld  go  far  to  buy  half-»-ioieii  new  ones, 
atid  everything  towards  the  close  attracted 
notice,  down  to  grey-beards,  bottles,  and  a 
half-worn  pair  of  bellows.    The  poet's  Mght- 

tracCed  great  sctention,  from  the  r^rcumstance 
that  it  had  ^equently  been  woun 


>  fifteen 


lunds  ( 


gainea! 


3  bid  up 
as  finally 


5liiiiitioniil  pj.k, 


liEIATING  TO  THE  BACHEIJiR'S  CLUB,  AT  TARB0I,TON. 


every  fourth  Monday  night,  wl 


2ni'l 
or,  he  hili 


■eafter  directed ; 

bated  io  the  club,  each  memhci 

Lever  »de  lie  thinks  proper. 

■  ■  's  met,the  president 


le  of  the  mem 


t  themselves ;  those  who 
are  for  one  side  of  the  question,  on  the  pre- 
sident's right  hand ;  and  those  who  are  for 
the  other  side,  on  his  left — which  of  them 
■ball  ha?e  the  right  liand,iatobB  determined 
by  the  president.  The  president  and  tour 
of  tlie  members  being  present,  shall  hate 
ordinary  part  of  the 


eociety's  business. 
3r  J.  The  club  met 

<lent  shall  read  the  qiL_. . 

book  of  records  (which  book  ia  always 


eaident) ;  then  the  two  m 


the  second  member  of  tl 


en  both  sides  have  spoken,  the  president 
ill  ^re  his  opmion,  aher  which,  they  may 
-■  ir  more  tunes,  and  so 


choice  of  a  qi 
neit  night's  i 
first  propose  t 


ly  other  mealier  who 


Ho,t,db,  Google 


tobject  of  debs 

tdiib-niehi. 

5lh.  The  du 

b  ahalL.  lastly;  elect 

pnsident  forth 

meeting;  thepr 

Bsident 

Bhall  first  name 

then  any  of  t 

e  dub 

IDBJ  name  uio 

her, 

and  whoever  of  them 

ha^themniDritf 

ofvo 

tea  shall  be  dnl; 

elected 

-allowing  the 

presi 

enl  the  first  vo 

e,  «id 

the  ciuptiiig  Yoln 

a  par,  hut  non 

other. 

ITien.  after  a  ge 

er™ 

oa!t  CO  the  ml 

of  the  dub,  the 

dismiss. 

tron  CHthed  on  during  the  time  of  debate, 
nor  shall  any  membet  isiettupt  anothi 
frbile  he  b  epeakin^,  under  the  penalty  of 
I^timind  from  the  president  for  the  dri 
fe,\i,it,  doubhns  his  share  o(  the  reckonui 
ibr  the  lecorid.  trebling  it  for  the  third,  au 
so  on  in  proportion  for  every  other  fiinlt ; 
provided  always,  hovever^  that  any  member 
may  speak  tf,  any  time  after  leace  asked  and 
given  by  the  president.  All  awearin|!  ani 
prafiuie  language,  and  particularly  all  obsceni 

hibiCed,  uiider  the  same  penalty,  as  afoiesaid 
in  the  first  dause  of  this  article. 

7th.  No  niemher,  on  any  pretence  what 


to  avoid  and  hare 

him  as  a  friend  or  c 

8th.  Every  mem 


nidinic  s 


It  three  It 


tings,  without 


.    the  dub-night,  when,  ifhefe 

send  an  eiouae,  he  shall  he  eidudedl" 

gth.  The  club  sliall  not  consist  of  more 
thaii  sixteen  niembeie,  all  bachdon,  briong- 
in;  to  tlie  pariah  </t  Tarboltoo ;  encept  a 
brotlier-memlier  marry,  and  in  that  case  he 
may  be  continued,  if  the  majonty  of  (ha 
dub  think  proper.  No  pcr:<Dii  shall  be  ad- 
mitted a  member  of  this  sodely,  without 
the  unanimous  consent  of  the  club;  and  any 
memhermaj  withdraw  from  the  di[b  alto- 
;  gether,  by  giving  a  notice  to  the  president 
'    in  writing  of  Ins  depnrlurc 

10th.  livery  man  proper  for  a  member  of 

hia  society,  must  have  a  ftank,  honest,  open 

:    heart;  above  any  thing dirlj  ormean;  and 

ut  he  a  professed  lover  of  one  or  more  of 

•-  female  sei.      No  haughty,  sdf-f^nceited 

'son,  who  looks  upon  himself  aa  superior 

tiie  test  of  the  elub,  aod  especially  no 

an-spitiled,  worldly  mortal,  wliose  only 

..    ...    r._ a  brother  member,    will  is  to  heap  np  money,  shall  nnou  any 

ticularly,  if  any  member  shall  reveal  any  of  :  the  proper  person  for  this  society  is,  a  cheer- 
the  speeches  or  affairs  of  the  clnb,  with  a  I  ful,  honest-heatKd  lad.  who,  if  ha  has  a 
view  to  ridicule  or  laugh  at  any  of  the  rest  ^eud  that  is  true,  and  a  mistress  tiiat  ia 
of  the  members,  he  shall  be  for  ever  eieom-    kind,  and  as  much  wealth  as  genteelly  to 

Uu  memnen  tue  deured,  as  much  aa  possible,  |  (hia  nocUl  can  make  him> 


Ho,t,db,  Google 


In  tilt  fmms  of  %nxw. 


P*GE    101,  NoTB  ].— Accorain^   t 


linea  are  a  faithful  re 

"  Robert  had,  pa  ,,  ,  , 
bonght  an  ewe  aiid  two  lambs  from  a  neigh- 
bour, and  she  nas  tethered  iu  a  tield  ad- 
joining [)ie  house  at  Lochleo.  He  and  I 
were  going  out  with  our  teams,  and  our  two 
yoouger  brothers  to  driie  for  m,  at  jniilday, 
when  Hugh  Wilson  (the  Haghoe  o(  the 
poem,  who   waa    a   neighho  "  '       ' '" 


irding  to  the 
bounty  of  bis 


dad  u 


Doking,  awliward  bi 


i,  wicb  much    l 


anxiety  in  hia  face,  with  the  u 
the  ewe  bad  entangled  heraelf  in  the  tether, 
and  waa  lymg  in  the  ditch.  Robert  waa 
much  tickled  with  Hughoc'a  appearance  and 
pastures  on  tbe  oceision.  Poor  Mailie  was 
Bet  to  rij^hta,  and  when  we  relumed  from  tlia 
plough,  in  the  evening,  ha  repeated  to  me 
her  death  and  dying  words,  pretty  mucli  in 


hearers  by  enb 

Paob  103,  i-NOiB  D.— Meg  ior  more 
properly,  Mai|»ret  Orr,  of  whom  ISums 
speaks  BD  familiirlyl  was  nursery  maid  in  the 
esUblishioent  of  Mrs  Stewart,  of  Stair,  la 
SJlar'3  visits  to  his  Meg,  he  was  not  un- 
trequently  accompanied  by  Bums,  who 
Bould  supply  verses  for  the  songs  of  other 
9  aervauti ;  eome  of  these  acciileutally 
1  manuscript,  into  the  bauds  of  Mrs. 
rt,  who  was  so  sirudt  with  their 
y,  that  she  desired  that,  upon  bis  nevt 
Elip  j4iil:linF  should  be  presented  to  her. 
trodKced,  end  Mrs. 


He  was  Becordiu;i;ly  i 


been  introduced  in  1781.  In  his  subsequent 
career  he  became  connected  with  tbe  borough 
of  Irvine,  first  as  a  teacher,  and  afteru'srds 
as  a  bailie ;  and  he  survived  to  the  advanced 
age  of  seventy  years^  He  died  on  the  2nd 
of  May,  1830. 

Page  102,  Notb  3. — A  quotation  from 
Allan  Kunsay. 


amongat  those  of  superior  nuik. 

Pagb   103,  Notb  6.— This  poem  n 
he  dated,  according   to   Gilbert  Bnms, 
whnm  it  was  first  repealed,  in  the  wiuMi 
.    1734-5. 

Pagb  104,  Note  7.— The  orisiual  ms 
ipt  affords  the  aubjoined  veraiou  of  th 
lines  :— 

'  Iflng  syne  in  Eden's  happy 
"         stmppi—  ••■—■--'■■ 


Lud  Eve 


lys  were  green, 


Mydt 


Hosted  by  Google 


tiotea  hove  bepn  ftppended  tc 
Ibronghout  lliis  poem,  nol 


rrslly  iioderstood, — "  It  is  tho  _, 
■light  wliea  all  the  supnbuniau 
10  people  space,  and  earth  and  uic, 
1  of  miaohief,  revel  at  raidniKht— 
and  It  IS  also  a  grand  anniversary  of  th 
more  beneficent  tnbe  of  feiries,  whose  occn 
patton  is  to  bttfRe  each  evil  genius  in  hi 
wickeJ  putBuit.— R,  B. 

Paoe  lue.  Note  9.— Certain  little,  m 
mantic,  rocky,  green  hill)  in  the  neighbour 
hood  of  the  ancient  aei       -    •      "    ■ 
—KB. 


POEMS  OP  BURXS.  479 

IB  references  I      Paob  106,  Note  16. — Whoeier  would, 
uC  that  the    with  success,  trv  this  soell.  must  strictlv 


n,  and,  darkling,  throw  into 


t  of  the  Earl 


Page  106,  Notb  10.— A.  noted   e 


■    Coleai 


3  Cassili! 


country  atory  as  tbe  haui 
fiiries,- a.  B. 

Page  106,  Note  11.— Tlie  he«ds  of  the 
race  of  Brace  were  Earls  of  Carrick.— R.  B. 

Paqe  106.  Note  13— The  first  cero- 
mooy  of  Halloween  is,  pnllin);  eaeli  i  atoct 
or  plant  of  kail.  They  mast  go  out  hand 
in  hand  with  eyes  shut,  and  pull  the  tirsC 
tbey  meet  with :  its  being  big  or  Uttle, 
straight  or  crooked.  U  prophetic  of  the  sjie 
and  Bha|«  of  the  grand  object  of  all  their 
ipella— the  husband  or  wife.    It  any  yird, 


of  t 


1  tlie  t! 


itural  temper  or  dispoation.    lastly,  t 


brings  1 


LCition,— R.  B, 

PauB  100.  Note  13.— They  go  to  the 
barn  yard,  and  pull  each,  at  three  several 
times,  a  stalk  of  oats.  If  the  third  stalk 
wants  a  lap  pkkle,  or  grain  at  the  top  of  the 
Walk,  the  laiiy  will  be  wedded,  but  not  a 
m»id.~R.  B. 

Pace  106,  Notb  14.— When  the  com 
la  in  a  doubifiil  state,  by  being  too  green  or 
vet,  the  stackbuilder,  by  means  of  old  tim- 
ber, &C,  makes  a  la^  apartment  in  his 
stack,  with  an  opening  in  the  side  which  is 
fairest  e::pntcd  to  the  wind :  this  he  calls  a 
fause-house. — R  B. 

PaOe  lOe,  Note  IS.— Burning  the  nuts 
is  e  fiimous  charm,  Tliey  name  the  lad 
and  la^s  to  each  particular  nut,  as  (hey  lay 


a  tlie  fi 
burn  quieiJy  together,  < 

eanrtahip  will  be. — R.  I 


the  pot 

doe  of  blue  yarn :    wind  i 

in  a 

clue  off  the  old  one,  and,  towards  the 

lattra 

end   son 

lething  will  hold  the  thread 

:    de- 

maud  " 

whs  hiuda?"   tliat  is.  who  holds? 

An  answer  will  be  returned  from  th 

kihi- 

pot,  by 

naming    the .  Christian  ani 

name  of 

your  future  sponse.- B.  B, 

Page 

106,  Notb   17.— Take  a 

and^ 

and  go  a 

ouetoalooking.^lass;  eat  an 

appS 

before  i 

,  and    some    traditions    say 

you 

should 

omb  your  hair  all  the  time 

1  tha 

face  of  your  conjugal  companion,  to  b 

e,will 

n  the  glass,  as  it  peeping  ove 

yonr 

shoulder 

Paoe 

107,  Note  28.— Steal  out. 

nper. 

reived. 

Look  over  your  left  shoolder,  a 
see  the  appearance  of  the  persi 
in  the  attitude  of  iralling  hei 
traditions  say,  "  Come  after  mt 


bee."- R.  B. 
Paoe  107,  Note  19.- TTiis  eliarm  must 
kcwise    be    performed    nnperceived    and 
lone.    You  go  to  the  barn,  and  open  both 


to  appear 

ma 

y  shut 

he  doors,  a 

ddo  yon 

some  mis 

diie 

The 

take  lliat 

istrnment 

country 

iah 

r'w'e 

all  a  w'echtraUd"^ 

throufA 

11   the  atti 

udea  ot  let 

iiig  down 

corn   aga 

ud.    Bepea 

it  three 

times,  and  th 

irae,  an  app 

riiion  wiU 

pass  thr 

ugll 

the   b 

arn,  in  at 

be  windy 

door,  and 

at  the  other,  havin 

both  the 

figure  in 

qne 

tlon,  a 

Ld   the  ap|H 

.araiicc  or 

larking  tb 
lu  ULK.— A.  B. 

Page  107,  Note  20.— Ti 
tunlty  of  going,  uunoticed,  to 
aod  fathom  it  three  times  rouna,  1  he  last 
&thom  of  the  last  time,  yon  wdl  eatch  in 
your  arras  the  appearance  ot  your  future 
conjugal  yoke-fellow.— K  B. 

Page  107.  Note  21.— You  go  ont,  ono 


Hosted  by  Google 


NOTES  TO  THE 


sleeve.    Go  to  bed  ii 


^n,  hftTJD|r  the  exact  Jignre 
X  in  question,  will  oomfi  an 
as  it  to  dry  the  other  side  of 

iB,NoTB  23.— Take  three  dislw! 


person,  and  lead  him  lo  the  heai^  where 

at  Tarbolion,  in  the  prewnce  of  Burim,  and 

theaishes  are  ranged  J   he  {or  .he)  dips  the 

thus  suggested  this  poem.    Hornbook  Bub- 

left  hand— if  by  ehauee  in  the  clesn  water, 

seqiiently  settled  in  Glasgow,  and  outlived 

the  future  bn^band  or  wife  will  come  t»  the 

the  poet  nearly  half  a  century. 

bat  of  raatrimonj'  a  maid ;    if  in  the  foul, 

Paou  113,  Note  20.— Willie's  MiO  \m 

B  widow;    if  in  the  empty  diah,  it  fbrtells 

the  name  of  a  mdl  jost  oat  of  tlie  tillage  of 

with    equal     certainty,    no    marriage    at 

I'arboltBn,  on  the  road  to  Mosagiel.  and  on 

i«    tepeattd     three    times, 
erery  time  the  arrangem  "  '' 

ia  altered.— K  B, 

Paob    108,    Note    2 
butter  instead  of  milk  to  Cheiu, 
the  Halloween  supper. — R,  B, 

Page  i08,  Nutb  24.— Bums  hi 
amongst  Che  other 


that  of  < 
Few 


■  apples 


if  Hal] 


tulisoi 


of  those  of  which  the  poet  has  fur- 
pulling  kail  stalks,  tun 
liples,  comprising    thi 


Paqe  109,  Note  2B.— The  author 
SOUK    beginning  thus,  (Johu    Lapralk,    of 
Balfram,  neat  Muirkiik) : — 
"  When  I  upon  thy  bosom  lean, 

And  fondly  ca'  thee  a'  my  ain; 
I  fflory  in  the  saered  tie 

That  made  us  ane,  wha  ance  were  twain.*' 

This  song  was  sung  at  one  of  those  merry 
meetings,  called  roJfkin^,  from  the  roek^  or 
distaff,  which  was  the  iiiiariable  accompani- 
ment of  the  female  guests. 

Paob  110,  Note  26,— A  festivity  which 
took  place  on  the  road  by  Bbiub's  Ann.  at 

pAQEHLNoTEaT.— Winiam  Simpson 
has  accomplished  some  very  passable  poetry, 
amongst  which  is  an  elegy  on  the  limpetor 
Paul.  He  was  first  the  teacher  at  Ochiltree, 
tuid  afterwards  engaged  in  the  same  capa- 
city at  New  Cumnock. 

Pase113,Note28.— Hornbook's  career 


levated  oc 
hop  of  a)l  ■ 


palish  schoiAmaalei'. 


s,  the  duties  of  a 


.  Tsrbolton,  where  first  he  was  eug^  td 

Suently  stoiied  a 

over  medical  books. 


smell  store  of  gro< 
which,  after  some 
he  also  added  the 
demand.  Thislost. 


called  t1 


FaUe,    It  ■ 


ccnipied  by  Mr.  Willi 
friend  of  the  Bums's,  and  one  of  the  suh- 
scriliers  to  tbe  first  Eduibui^h  Edition  of 
Robert's  Poems. 

Page   113,  Notb    30. — Buchan's  wen- 
known  work  on  Domestic  Medicine. 

Page  114,  Note  31.— The  Grave-digger. 

Paoe  in.  Note  i2.— (Mlip™ied  n.) 
This  poem  was  probably  sugi^ested  by 
Fergusaou's  HaiUno  Fair  of  EihiibarsK 
^though  it  is  rather  constructed  alter  the 
model  of  the  same  poet's  Leilh  Reixs. 
The  ceremouial  of  rural  commumon  as 
till  Tery  recently,  or  sidl  is 


irvedinso 


tsof  Scotland,  fi 


IS  food  of  hi 


the  poem. 
Paqe  115,  Note  S3,— The  popnljr  name 

Pare  UB,  NOtb  81— This  wosan  exqui- 
site hit  at  the  nreachins-  of  Moodie,  who 
the  terrors  of  the 
the  Orss,  or  Kilmarnock  edition, 

Moodie,  iras  comparatively  tame. 
,  of  Edmhnrgh,  is  said  to  haVe 


Galston,  who  also  figures  in  the  Kirift 
Alarm,  under  the  name  of  Ireiae-aide.  This 
1  was  subsequently  better  known  as 
iclier  by  the    uamo    of   Dr.    George 


n  the  Klri's  Alarm,  m  1 
:.  Note  87— Dr.  Macl 


Hosted  by  Google 


POEIB  OP  burss. 


«i 


period  of  MoucMine,  wtio  is  thus  introduced 
in  allusion  to  a  pamphlet,  iu  eiposition  of 
some  lilliige  contcoteray  ubich  lie  had  pco- 
mulgnCcd  under  the  title  of  Common  Seme, 

Pace  lie,  NoiE  as.— The  name  of  a 
street  at  Maoeliline. 

Page  116,  Nora  39.— This  Mr.  Millar 
Tss  aubaeguoQtly  niiiuster  at  Kilmaur'a,  and 
>  little  porti;  periou  he  was. 

Paqb  116.  Noi'B  40.— The  Ber.  John 
Busaell,  who  ^so  figures  in  ihe  Twa  Henls. 


but  was  at  Ih 
of  Ease  at  Ki 

Page  116,  Note  41— Eipresaion  bor. 
lowed  from  the  subioiocd  passage  in 
HamlH. 

"I  could  a  talc  unfold — 
Woald  iamnoup  liysoal;  freeze  thy  young 

apherea; 
Thy  knotty  sod  comhmed  locts  to  part ; 


.Andea 


like  quills  upon  the  fretful  porcupiue." 

Paqh  117  NOTB42.— The  nllra  ortbo- 
doiy  of  the  Dewly-appoiiited  minister  of  the 
parochial  Kirk  of  Kilmarnock,  on  the  6Ch  of 
April,  17B6,  and  the  consequent  triumph  of 
the  Auld  Liijhts  over  tlie  Moderatea,  ebdled 
the  hitter  irony  of  this  poem. 

Page  117,  Note  43.— An  allusion  to  the 
chief  occupation  of  the  people  of  KUmar- 
nock,  in  the  manufacture  of  leather  and 
woollen  goods,  carpeta  and  articles  of  this 

Pass  117,  Note  44.— The  landlord  of  ■ 
tavern  iie»r  (he  pariah  chftrch. 

Paoe  117,  Note  45.— This  passage  tefe.-a 


those  who  have  made  local  researches 
respecting  Burns  and  his  poems.  One 
commentator  supposes  it  to  be  an  allusion 
to  the  author  of  the  Esaay  on  TTHth.  This, 
however,  is  mere  hypothesis. 

Page  113,  Nots  53.— In  the  west  of 
Scotland,  the  term  Neui  LigH  is  a  popu- 
lar designation  of  the  opinions  promulgated 
by  Sr.  Taylor  and  bis  partisans. 

Page  118.  Note  54.— James  Smith  wa» 
formerly  a  shopkeeper  at  Mauchhne ;  snbse- 

Linlitl^w;  and  lastly,  an  emigrant  totbo 
West  Indies,  "here  he  died. 

Page  119,  Kotk  55.— The  authentiinty 
of  this  poem  has  been  very  erroiftous^ 
doubted.  11  was  written  by  Burns  in  1735, 
but  was  not  published  in  his  o^vn  edition!, 
probably,  because  be  bad  retained  no  copy  of 
it,  clearly  not  ti]at  be  thoi^bt  it  unworthy 
of  him.  In  1801,  this  piece  appeared  in  a 
small  volume,  published  at  Glasgow,  by 
Messrs.  Brash  and  Reid,  under  the  unpre- 
tending title  of  Poem)  aaeribed  lo  Boiert 
Sums.  All  the  more  recent  autbimtiea 
have  been  convinced  of  its  authenticity, 
which,  in  face,  appears  to  be  inconlestil^ 

'le;   and  Mr.  ChambeK 


itable.    1 


s  furnished   so 

following  is  the  at 

*'lt  is  understood  to  have  been  fbunded 
n  the  poet's  observation  of  an  actual  scene- 
■hich  one  night  met  his  eye,  v 


late  bora,  into  a  very  humble  hostelry  in 
Maudiline,  the  landlady  of  which  was  a. 
Mrs.  Gibson,  more  ttiniiharly  named  Pooae 
NiJiey.  After  witnessing  much  jollity 
longst  a  company,  who,  by  day,  appeared 
road  as  raiseraWe  be^ars,  the  threa 
ung  men  came  away.  Burns  professing  to 
ve  been  greatly  delighted  with  the  scene, 
t,  particularly  with  the  gleesome  bchavioui 
ati  old  maimed  soldier.  In  the  coi^se  of 
ew  days,  he  recited  a  part  of  the  poem  to 
chmond,  who  has  informed  tlie  present 
itor,  that,  to  the  best  of  his  recollection,  it 
ntained,  in  its  original  complete  foroi, 
nga  by  a  sweep  and  asaUor,  which  do  not 
w  appear.  The  landlady  of  the  houu- 
as  mother  to  Racer  Jess,  alluded  to  in  the 
Holn  Fair,  and  her  house  was  at  the  left  hand 
de  ofthe  opening  of  the  Comfiale,  meniioned 
the  same  poem,  and  opposite  to  the  church. 
a  secounC  of  Che  house,  the  cbaract«ra  wbo 
equeuted  it,  and  the  scenes  which  used  to 
ke  place  in  it.  is  given  in  Ciimbers'a  Edia- 
ri/h  Jaarnal,  No  2.     A  lithographic  fto- 


Hosted  by  Google 


MOTES  TO  THE 
oript  of  the  /oHy  1  that 


pQhIiahed."  lifying  pi 

with  Bome  taint  of  «    seekhig  » 

remari^  on  this  poe: 


"  In  one  or  tvo  paaaa^  of  the  Jotlff 
Seggara,  the  niuae  bos  ahghtly  trespassed 
on  decomm,  where,  in  the  lan^uLi^  of  Scot- 


nethii!) 


ift«idUrjilen,.i'e  tolerate 
the  groisneas  of  the  one  and  the  indelicacy 
■Of  the  otiier,  the  teapect  doe  to  that  of  Burns 
may  surely  claim  iudulsence  fiir  a  fSw  li^ht 
■ittokes  of  broad  humour." 

Paqe  119,  Note  56— An  allusion  to  the 
targe  wooden  dish  or  platter,  carried  hy  men- 


Wolfe,  suemeded  in  pving  battle  to  tlie 
enemy ;  and  where  the  general  fell,  morLallj 
wounded,  at  the  monumC  of  victory,  in  Sep- 

PaOB.  120,  NOTB  58,— El  Motto,  the 
eastle  which  defends  the  entrance  to  the 
harbour  of  Havaunah,  in  Che  island  of  Cuba. 
In  nS2,  this  castle  was  siomied  uid  taken 


Paob  130,  Note  S9.- 


■The  deal 


funona  siege  of  (Siljtalur,  in  1782 — on 
whidi  occaaion  the  gatlanCCaptam  Curtis  ren- 
dered the  most  signal  service— is  Che  heroic 
exploit  here  refeti^d  to." — Motiiekweij~ 

Page  120,  Note  60.— George  Augnatna 
Elliot,  created  Lord  Heathfield  for  his  ndmi- 

three  years.    Born  1717,  died  1790. 

Paoe  laa.  Note  61,— The  whisky  made 
■tthe  distiliery  of  that  name  in  Clackmiia. 
nanahiie,  anJ  famoua  throughout  the  coautry 


brii^ng 


Note   63.- Several  ol 
reduced  for  the   purpo 

tf  the  authoi.     He  used  to  reniirk  ci 


1  life,  ' 


might  be  brought  foc- 

waa  composed, — Gilbebt  Burns. 

The  metre  ia  adapted  from  an  old  ballad 
known  by  the  name  of  the  Life  end  Age  of 
Maa,  and  of  which  the  aubjoined   are  the 


,  bought  us  d 
and  lob  did  say. 


d  old  n 


e  died;  i 


Ions 


were,  when  he  sat  down  and  cried,  whilst 
my  mother  would  sit  down  and  sin^  the 
simple  old  ballad,  TAt  L^t  and  Age  of  Man. 

We  are  indebted  to  the  compiler  of  the 
Land  o/BurKi,  for  the  foUowin;;  intetestil^ 
anecdote  in  illuBttation  of  thia  poem ; — 

"Close  beside  tlif  end  of  Barskimmii^ 
old  bridge  stands  a  neat,  small  honae,  in- 
h^ited,  at  the  time  to  which  tliia  anecdola 
relatea,  by  an  old  man  named  Kemp,  and  his 
daughter.  The  old  man.  not  originally  poa. 
seased  of  the  beat  of  tempera,  was  rendered 
peevish  and  qiieruloua  by  disease,  and  in  CCHI- 
seqneiica  of  alight  patalyaia,  generally  sup. 
potted  himaelf  on  two  sticks.  His  daughter 
Kal*,  hnireser,  a  trim  trig,  lass,  was  one  of  the 


It  the  house,  he  found  the  old  man  at  tha 
toor  in  a  more  than  usually  peevish  mood, 
md  was  informed  by  him  that  the  cow  was 
n!t,  and  that  Kate  hid  gone  in  quest 
if  her,  but  she  had  been  so  long  away 
lie  was  afraid  she  was  lost  Coo.  The  poet, 
leaving  the  old  man,  cmsaed  the  bridje, 

jf  Batakiraining  mill,  then   a  young  man 

'Weel,  miller,  whst  are  you  doing  here?' 
'Na,  Bobio,'  said  themiUer,  'I  should  put 


Ho,t,db,  Google 


POEJtS  OF  BmtNS. 


e  fan 


U(irhD 


should    > 


le  had  d( 


idi,  eha 


it  Bums  remained  moody 

during  the  rest  of  Che  day.  Bud  wi 
at   night  (for  they  '  "■ 


Bluie 
which  die  iucideuC  of 


0  etroplie,  fytle,  t^,]  applied  by 
he  divisions  of  rambling  poems. 

1,  Noi'fi  65. — Curling  ia  a  very 
game,  pUyed  upon  the  ice.  when 


Page  1S4.  Note  68. — Tlie  juaJoar  of  the 
ftrm-houss  of  Mosssiel,  namely,  the  mdy 
Bpartntent  besides  the  kitcheu.    Thb  little 


i  ttill  e. 


They  accordingly  went  into  the  holm,  and 
during^  the  first  t^o  rounds  they  made, 
the  poet  chatted  freely,  bat  subscquenUy 
got  more  and  more  taeitum,  and,  dunng  the 
last  two  rounds,  spoke  not  a  word.  On 
teaching  the  stile  that  led  from  the  place,  he 
abruptly  bade  the  miller  good  night,  and 
walked  rapidly  towards  MauchUne.  Neit 
time  the  miller  aud  he  met,  he  said,  '  Miller. 
I  owe  you  an  apology  for  my  silence  during 
om  last  walk  together,  and  fbr  leaving  you 
■0  abruptly.'    •  Oh.  oh ! '  said  he,  '  Robin, 

nitiject  had  occuired  to  you,  aiid  that  you 
were  thinking,  and  perhaps  composii.g  some. 

■aid  Bums,  '  and  I  will  now  re^  you  what    '. 


described 

scene  or  his  vision  of  Coik.  "Though 
every  reapent  humble,  and  partly  occupied 
hxed  beds,  il  <loe3  not  appear  uncomfortah 
Every  cnnsideration,  however,  sinks  benea 
tbe  one  intense  feeling, 
tbe^e  four  wa!h^  warmH 
place,  and  hghted  by  tl 
'    ■  but  one),  lived  one  of  tlie  most  eitraoi 


lere,  within 
a  little  fiie- 


(rt 


irated 


B   of    modem 

!l.  No.  93, 

Page  13S,  Note  67.— The  cl 

boroueh  of  Ayr  bears  date  as 

beginning  of  the  thirteenth  cent' 

Page  125,  Note   68.— Tb. 


made  M  jUokth  / 

Page  124,  Note  63.- Tbia  .... 
poem  was  actually  composed  at  the  plough- 
tail,  and  aoggesWd  by  an  incident  which 
occurred  to  Ihe  poet  whilst  at  work.  Bums 
waa  handling;  the  plough,  a    ^   ~  ' 


which  the  ploughshare  waa  scr. 

commencement  of  every  fieah  fu 

•addenly  a  mouse  started  from 

and  was  running  across  the  field,  closely    ' 

pnraTied  by  Blaiie,  pattle  in  hand,  who  had 

driver  back,  and  very  calmly  a 


5.  Note  70.— .4dam  Wallac 
cousin  to  William  Wallace. 
IB,  Note  71.— The  laird 
Craigie,  also,  of  the  family  of  Wallace, 
'  eld  the  second  command  at  the  bi 
mgbt  in  1448,  on  Che  banks  of  Sark, 
aiiied  by  the  Scottish  troop,  u 
lougltts.  Earl  of  Ormond,  and  Wul 
aird  of  Craigie ;  and  in  which  the  do 
tlour,  and  masterly  skill  of  the  lactei 

he  Laird  of  Craigie  was  mortally  w( 
1  the  engagement. 
Paoe  125,  Note  72.- The  ahad€ 


ipetati 


Kmg  o 


1  Picts,  1 


.eat"  of  Montgomeries,  of  CoiMeld, 
ith  a  small  mound  crowned  with  trees, 
le  29th  of  May,  1S37,  this  mound  was 


ibich  so  far  corroborated 
.  Ihe  mound  waa  ascer. 
mUy  held  the  remains  of 


the  tradition,  tbo 


Page  125,  Note  73.— Alluding  to  1 
skimming,  the  seat  of  Sir  Thomas  Millai 
that  time  Lord  Justice  Clerk,  aud  s 
President  of  the  Court  of  Session. 

Paoe  135,  Note  7*.— This  stanea  re 
to  Catrine.  tbe  seat  of  Dugald  Stewart  ( 
formerly  of  hia  fatlier,  the  Rev.  Dr.  Matthew 


Stewa 


4  75.— Alluding  to  tl 
lessors  of  Catrme,  I 
DiDngald  Stewart;  tl 


Hosted  by  Google 


J  TO  THE 

1-    in  1790,  aft 


of  her  fabulous  eiiateuce,  by  Ihe  equally 
TtiioDaiy  iiersDDage.  who  fi^u'^i  uiiiler  tlie 
name  of  Scata  in  Mr.  A.  Boss's  poera,  The 
Fortimate  Shrpherdeta. 

Paob  126,  Note  73.— Moa^iel,  which 
bu  Bmcfl  become  the  property  of  Mr. 
Alexander,  of  BallochiDyle,  nas  then  amongst 
tbe  posaeasiona  of  tbe  Earia  of  Loudon,  that 
is,  of  the  Loudon  htanch  of  the  nice  of 
CampbelL 

Page  1S7,  Note  79.— Toirards  the  dose 
of  the  year  1785,  load  comploiiila  were  nude 
'       >'    ->.         -espectiiig    the 


3  and 


.ppres 


the  Excise  laws  were  enforced  at  their 
estiblishraenti — sudi  rigour,  they  aaid,  bmg 
exercised  at  the  inatigation  of  the  London 
distillers,  who  looked  with  jealousy  on  tbe 
ineceaa  of  their  norlhem  brethren.   So  great 

distillers  were  oblij^d  to  abandon  the  trad^ 
and  the  price  of  barley  was  bssinidng  '    ' 
■Bected,    Illicit  distillation  was  also 
to  be  alarmingly  on  the  increase.    In  t 
quence  of  the  earnest  temonttnuieea 
Astillets,  backed  by  the  county  gentlemen, 

(alluded  to  by  the    author),  whereby  the 

continued,  and  an  annual  tax  imposed  on 
a^ls,  according  to  their  capacity.  This  act 
gave  eejiend  satisfaction.  It  seema  to  have 
been  during  the  general  oatcry  againat  fiscal 
oppression  at  the  end  of  1785,  or  be»:iuning 
ttf  1786.  that  the  poem  was  composed. 

Pagb  127,  Note  80.— William  Htt,  who 
In  hi:  twenty-wcond  year  was  at  the  head  ' 
an  admuiistration,  and  controlling  the  E 

Pagr  1S7,  NoTB  81,— Hngh  Mor 
goniery,  of  Coilifieid,  afterwards  to-elfi 
!brl  of  Eglinton,  at  that  time  M.F.  for 
Ayrshire,  uid  who  had  serted  in  the  army 
during  the  American  war. 

Paob  127,  Note  82^-James  Boswell, 
well  known  to  the  party  politicians  of  Ayi 


Faqb  127,  Note  84,— Sir  1 
gU9S0n,  of  Kiikerran,  Bart.  He  : 
times  represented  Ayrshire,  but 
was  member  for  the  city  of  EdinI 

Paoe  127,  Note  85.— Tbe  Marquis  of 
Graham,  ehtest  son  of  the  Duke  of  Mont- 
rose, lie  afterwards  became  the  third  Uuku 
of  Montrose,  and  died  in  1836. 

Page  127.  Note  86.— The  Hight  Hon. 


[as.  Tree 


a-  of  tl 


NaT; 


re,  attetwBida  "Viscount 
B  128,  Note  87.— Probably  Thomas 


Page  123,  Note  8 
Campbell,  seeoud  brother  of  the  Duke  of 
A^le,  Lord  Kegisttar  of  Scotland,  and  M  J*. 
for  the  CDiHity  of  Ai^jle  in  this,  and  the 
one  preceding,  and  the  two  aubsequent  Par- 


Page  ] 


:,  Note    SB.- Hay  Campbell, 


came  Pre 

dent  of  the 

Court  of  Seasio 

d  aurvite 

to  an  advai 

ced  age.     He  w 

d  M.P.  for  f 

e  burghs  compr 

enM  wiu! 

n  the  limits 

of  Glasgow.    J 

ed in  1823 

Page  12 

,  Note  90.- 

-This  stanza  w 

ppr^sedi 

a  all  the  edi 

ona  which  Bur 

jpect  for  tbe  Monlgom 

ry,  whose  'dnm 

softh 


it  belter  known  to  the  world  at  la^ 
the  fiadoio  and  biographer  of  Dr.  Johnson 

Paob  127,  Note  63.— George  Dempster, 
of  Dunnicheo,  in  tbe  county  of  ForlM,  an 
eminent  Sleottieh  Whig  representative,  of  the 
ajre  of  Fok  and  Pitt,  He  commenced  h' 
pBiliamentary  career  in  1762.  and  dosed 


Robert  Pit^  of  Bocoonotk.  m  the  county  of 
CoranalL 
Page    128,  Note    92 — "Scones  made 

wlieat  or  barley,  ground  hue,  and  denoffli- 
nared.  jnashlam,  are  in  general  use.  and  fbrm 
a  wholesome  and  pulatable  food."— i\'ou 
Slolisticiil  Accmiit  of  Seotkad,  parah  of 
Da!rg,  Ayrihire. 

Page  J28,  Note  93. — A  worthy  old 
hostess  of  the  author^  in  Mauchline,  where 
he  sometimes  studies  politics  over  a  glass  of 
gnid  auld  Scotdi  drink.  Nanse's  story  was 
different.  On  seeit^  the  poem,  she  declared 
that  the  poet  hod  never  been  but  mice  or 
twice  in  her  house. 

Page  128,  Note  94,— The  young  Chan- 
cellor of  the  Exeliequec  had  gained  some 
credit  by  a  measure  introduced  in  1784  for 
preventing  smug^-ling  of  tea  by  redudog  tbe 


,  „  Google 


POEMS   OF   BtlENS, 


ilaty,  the  revenue  being  compenaatad  bj  a 
tax  on  windows. 

Paob  129,  Note  95,— The  model  which 
Bums  followed  in  tliis  poem  is  eviileiitly  ihe 
Coxier  Wattr  rf  Fei^sson.  The  poet's 
iiuaginHtioD  L»  evidently  more  coneemed  in 
the  bseehenalian  rant,  than  his  8«ual  pre- 

^vas  more  especialEy  devoted  to  Bacchus  or 
liis  compeers,  than  the  majority  ol  bis 
associates  or  contemporBries, 

PiQB  129,  NOTB  Se.— The  volsat  name 
of  beer  being  repudiated,  and  the  more  re- 
fined cognomen  of  "  ale  "  being  substituted 
for  such  decoctions  of  malt  as  Etoco  the 
tables  of  the  great  in  silver  tankards. 

Paqe  129,  Note  97,— An  allusion  to  (he 
Aronrite  draught  of  beet  after  a  mess  of 
porridge. 

Paue  129,  Note  93,— An  allflaion  to  the 
orowdiiig  of  the  congregation  round  the 
moveable  pulpits  out  of  doors,  as  vu 
Ktually  the  case  at  a  jjacodiial  distribution 
of  the  sacrament. 

Page  130,  Note  09.—TIic  ScotUsh  Par- 
liament passed  an  Act  in  the  year  1090, 
empowering  Forbes  of  Cidloden  to  distil 
whisky  free  of  doty,  on  his  manor  of 
Ferintoeh,  of  Cromartyshire,  in  consideration 
of  bis  services,  and  of  the  losses  which  he 
had  sustained  in  the  public  service  at  the 
period  of  the  Hevolntion,  The  immense 
wealth  to  which  such  an  imtnonity  ojiened 
the  way.  gradually  stimulated  the  successors 
of  the  Forbes  to  the  distilktioa  of  so  im- 
mense a  quantity  of  the  spirit,  that  by 
degrees  Fermlaeh  became  a  bye-word  signi- 
^ng  whisky.  This  privilege  was  abolished 
by  the  Act  of  Ihe  British  parliunent,  passed 
in  17S3,  and  which  regulated  the  Scotch  dis- 
^,„    ,.     ,.    1      T...-  J  proviMon  was 


reserved  in  that  ai 
Lords  of  the  Treasury  sh 


hoitldfail  I 


EicheqiiCT.  Accordingly,  al 


if  the  Lords  of  tht 

aettle  the  matter  fairly,  it  should  be  sub- 

erfnlile  attempts 

_.  ___ rj,  Mr.  Duncan 

Forbes  prosecuted  his  i^aim,  proving  that  the 
tight  had  actually  produced  £1000  a  year  to 
bis  ftmily,  and  might  have  been  productive  of 
seven  times  as  mnch ;  and  the  juryswaided 
him  the  substantial  sum  of  £Sl,5aO  ascom- 
ptmsation,  on  the  29th  of  November,  1795. 

Page   130,  Note   100,— A  preacher  of 
Tory  general  popularity  amoi^st  the  poorer 


Paqb  130,  b 


£  101, — A  pieachet  not 


iiuch  admired  by  tlw  people  generally,  but 
eccived  as  an  oracle  by  the  select  few  who 
icre  his  partisans,  Robertson  was  out  of 
lealth  at  the  time  these  lines  were  written. 

Page  131,  Note  102.— Killie,  a  popular 
<r  &niiliar  deiignalion  amongst  the  country 
leople,  mesning  Kilmarnock, 

Pagb131,Note  103— Thomas  Samson,a 
lUrseryman,  at  Kilnuirnock,  was  one  amongst 
he    earliest   friends  of  Bunig.      He  vai 


a  desire 


luried  in  tlie  Muirs,  and  this  ^„ 
inrns  the  elegy  and  epitaph.  At  his  death 
le  was  buried  in  Kilmarnock  Churchyard, 
md  at  the  western  eitremity  of  the  church 

ion;—        Thomas  SASisnif, 

Died  the  12th  of  December,  1793, 

Aged  72  years, 

'Tam  Sama-  -' '  -  -      '-  "-—  "  - " 


3,  &•■.., 
I  the  identical  words  with  which  B 


IS  bad 

Page  13'i,  NorB  ]04.— Mr,  Aiken  was 
one  of  the  first  persons  moving  in  the  higher 
orders  of  society,  who  noticed  the  veciaik- 
able  talents  of  Bobwt  Burns,  and  whosa 
patronage  and  countenance  upheld  the  poet, 
and  promoted  the  success  of  his  subsequently 
brilliant  career.  He  was  somewhat  diaiin- 
guished  amongst  his  profeuional  colleaguea 
IbeiTig  a  lawyer),  for  the  superior  intellec- 
toal  qiiaKfications  which  he  possessed,  and 
amongst  his  friimda  tiir  Che  unafFectcd  gene- 
rosity of  his  character,  lie  died  ou  the 
34th  of  March.  1807. 

Paob  13a,  Note  lOS.— "Several  of  the 
poems  were  produced  fcr  the  purpose  of 
bringing  fora'ard  some  favourite  sentiment 
of  the  author.  He  had  frequently  remarked 
he  thought  there  was  something 


arable  i 


.e  phraa 


worship  God,'  used  by  a  decent  sober  head 
of  a  famdy  inttodoang  family  worship.    To 

indebted  fbr  the  Cattefa  SatsrdBS  Kigtt. 
The  hint  of  the  plan,  and  title  of  the 
poem,  were  taken  firom  Fergnasoo's  f  nrmer'* 


Uf  tl 


»  Willi 


of  the  poem,  and  William  himself 
was  ine  saint,  and  Ather  and  husband,  of 
this  tndy  sacred  drama." — Cusninqham. 

Page  134,  Note  106,--See  Pope's  Wind- 
Bor  Forest, 

Page  134,  Note  107— This  poem  ia 
another  remarkable  instance  of  the  fertility 
of  genius  which  so  strikingly  characterised 


Ho,t,db,  Google 


NOTES  TO  THE 


sarBntns.  Lite  tbe  linei  to  a 
iIgA  by  the  siniptest  mid  mos 
;,  ant),  neverlhelesa,  is  wtoi 


ia  dediisteii,  sod  who  hod  been  tnughc  by 
bii  father  to  veiierMe  the  geniiis  and  charac- 
ter of  hia  lowly  but  iUnattioua  fellow-country- 
man. Mr.  Andrew  Aiken  survived  fifty  yeua 
after  Bums,  and  died  at  St.  Fetenbui^h, 


!39ful 


arked  at  Liver 


which  I 

Pagb  ]3B,Notb  109.— Thefint  person 
of  respectable  rtuik  and  good  education  wlio 
took  any  notice  of  Bums,  was  Mr.  Gavin 

be  took  his  farm  of  MoBsgiel  on  a  sub-lease. 
Sir.  Hamilton  \Ked  in  what  is  siill  called  the 


I  of  tlie 


h,  fonninK  the  only 


,t  priory.     He  1 


■ame  profession  in  the  same  place,  and  was 
in  evecy  respect  a  most  estimable  member  of 
BOi^ety — generous,  affable,  and  humane. 
Tlnfurtimately  his  reli<;ious  practice  did  not 
square  wiih  the  noiioos  of  the  then  minis, 
ter  of  Mauchline,  the  Daddg  Autd  o( 
Bums,  who,  in  1785,  is  found  ■      ' 


mfor 


L.  Unnc- 


somedisputeahoutapoor'aratc);  2.  Setting 
out  on  a  journey  to  Csrricli:  on  a  Sunday ; 
3.  Habitual,  if  not  total  neglect  of  bmily 
mmhipi  4.  Writmg  an  abusive  letter  to 
the  season,  in  reference  to  some  of  their 
former  proceedings  respecting  him.  Strange 
though  this  proseimliou  may  seem,  it  was 
strictly  accordant  with  the  right  assumed  by 
the  Scotash  cleray  at  that  period,  ' 
into  the  private  habits  of  parishiu 


designs 


.'crsally  al 


wed  t) 


Auld'a 


,iossible  to  speak  ot  it  disrespectfully. 
It  was  unfortunately,  huwei'er,  miied  up 

of  the  . 

the    Presbytery,  to    which    Mr. 

•ppealeJ.  that  that  reverend  body  Kilered 


io  apparent  t 


the  ptociiedings  to  be  stopped, 
of  them   expunged   froi 
description  of  tlie  Buffer! 
liue  Seaaioo,  «hile  orator 


ad  all  nc 

records.     A 

of  the  Mauch- 


theni  before  the  Presbytery,  is  to  be  found  in 
Hols  Witlk't  Prayer.  Partly  from  anUpalhy 
to  the  high  orthodox  party,  but  more  from 
friendship  for  Mr.  Hamillon.  whom  he  re- 
garded as  a  worthy  and  eidightened  man, 
persecuted  by  narrow^witted  bigots,  Bums 
threiv  his  partisan  muse  into  the  quarrel, 
and  produced  several  poems,  that  jual  men- 
'  amongst  the  rest,  in  which  it  is  but 


appitt 


with  those  n 

',  Note  110.— On 


ima^ued  himself  transported  to  the  birth- 
day levee ;  and  in  his  di-eaming  foncy,  made 
the  address  conveyed  in  these  lines. — R.  B. 
rriui  Poet  Ltiureale  of  tlie  time  being  was 
Thomas  Warton,  and  the  subjoined  are  the 


"When  Pteedom  nursed  her  nsHve  lira 

Her  tiards  disdainM,  trom  the  tyrant's  bror 

'llie  tinsel  gift!  of  (Uticry  tore; 
But  paid  to  guiltless  power  tbmr  willing  tow; 

Vapid  enough,  it  must  be  confessed] 

Pagb  138,   Note   111,— Gait,  gett,  ot 
gyte,  a  homely  substitute  for  the  word  child 

Page  138,  Note  112.— When  the  vote  of 


Page  1: 


led  by  a  Captain  McBride  and 
at  of  ei-guii  ships  was  proposed 


,  Note  114. — 


icies,  adopted  as  it  had  subsequently 
been  by  ShaKespeari^  in  speaking  ot 
Henry  V,,  as  mingling  in  tiie  wildest  frolics 

ch  hiihits  in  hia  yomiger  days,  if  ws 
_  rust  the  anecdotes  in  which  his  just 
punishment,  by  authority,  reflected  creAib 
worthy  and  impartial  judge.  But, 
ling  to  the  mamoiriil  Tyler,  these 
were  nothing  better  than  a  tissue  of  ingenious 
tables.  HDWcer  this  may  be,  Burns  only 
adopted  it  degree  of  licence,  which  the 
greatest  British  Poet  had  considered  him- 


Ho,t,db,  Google 


POEMS  OF  BURNS. 

f  free  to  uae  nhen  the  tiaditioni  were  yet 

re  positive  on  the  subject, 
Paqb    138,  Note    US.— A   humoroi.a 

at  Frederick,  Dute  of  York  (the  wcond 
n  of  George  lll.l.  *l>ose  earlier  career  had 

a    spent  in  Eccleaiastical  vocationa,  aa 

hop  of  Oanaburg. 

snothe^r™!™ 

made    to    I 
o(  her  day  i 

Paok  138,  Note  118.— William  T... 
afterwarda  Suke  of  Clarence,    and  final 
King,  by  the  name  of  William  IV.,  wha 


Paqe  1S8,  Note  117.- 


theci 


oulhrul  I 


the  royal  sailor. 

Page  133,  Note  lia.~"Thelale  of  the 
TiDa  Dogs  was  composed  after  the  resolution 
of  publishing  was  nearly  taken.  Robert  had 
a  dog,  wiiich  he  called  Luath, 
great  Gicanrile.  The  d 
killed  by  tlie  nanton  crueltj 
'le  night  hefo  '   '     ' 


hod    beec 


1  immortality  ai 
I  Friend  Luath, 


luld   like  to  coofei 


book  under 
Memory  of  a  Uuadruped  Friend; 
plan  wai  g^vcB  ap  for  the  poem  a: 
stands.    C^ar  »aa  merely  the  creati 


mamock,  o 
placing  a  i 


1  his  fiivourite  Luath." 
,  Allan  Cnnningham 
Wilson,  printer.  Kil- 
ling the  first  edition  of 


a  6\Kd  at  February  ITBli,  by  a  letter  of  the 
poet  to  John  Eichmond. 

Pagb  139,  NOTK  119.— Kyle,  the  natire 
province  of  the  poet,  is  supposed  ta  derive 
its  name  from  Coilus,  a  real  or  supposed 
kii«  of  the  Ptcta,  alluded  to  in  the  notes  to 
the  yiaioa.  Recent  autiquaries  are  disposed 
to  deduce  the  appellative  from  quile  a  dif- 
ferent source,  from  choiUU,  to  wit,  signifying 
in  the  Celtic  tongue  a  woody  region.  Upon 
the  whole,  the  popular  etymology  appears 
tlie  mote  rational. 

Paos  139,  Note  120.— Cuchullin'a  dog 

Paqb  141,  Note  121.— In  the  early  part 
n!  17M6,  when  the  friends  of  his  Jean  forced 


B   Milton's 


presided.    He  speaks  of  her  ir 

any  thing  nearly  Uke  her,  in  aV 
nations  of  beauty,  grace,  and  g 
greit  Creator  has  formed,  sili 
Eve  on  the  fltst  day  of  her  esiatence."  It 
may  te  curious  to  learu  what  was  thought  of 
this  lovely  woman  by  a  man  of  a  tery  differ, 
ent  sort  from  Bums — namely,  Hugh  Chia- 
holm,  one  of  the  seven  broken  men  (usually 
called  robbers)  who  kept  Prince  Charles  in 

weeks,  during  bis  hidings,  resisting  the 
temptation  of  thirty  thousand  pounds  to 
a:iie  him  up.  This  man,  when  fkr  advanced 
IS  brought  on  a  visit  to  Edinburgh, 


larked  he  would  nt 


and,  that 
'ed  in  his 
estimation,  hy  the  grasp  of  the  Prince. 
Being  taken  to  sup  at  Lord  Monhoddo's, 
old  liugh  sat  most  of  the  time  gaung  ab- 
stractedly on  Miss  Burnet,  and  being  asked 
afterwards  what  he  thought  of  her,  he  ei- 

tungue,  which  can  be  hut  poorly  rendered  in 
English,  "  She  is  the  finest  animal  I  ever 
beheld."  Yet  an  enviously  minute  inquirer, 
in  the  letter-press  accompanying  the  reprint 
of  Kay's  Porlrm'li,  states  that  she  liad  ooe 
blemish,  though  one  not  apt  to  be  observed 
—bad  teeth.  She  died,  m  1790,  of  con- 
sumption, at  tho  age  of  twenty-five,  and  the 
poet  wrote  an  elegy  upon  her. — Cmambkbb. 

Paob  143,  NoTB  1-23.— An  hostelry  of 
high  repute  tbrouglioul  the  nughbauchood, 
situated  at  tlie  Auld  Brig  End. 

Paoe  14.^,  Note  124. — This  dock,  as  well 
OS  the  tower  or  steeple  in  which  it  stood,  has 
been  removed  fur  some  years.  The  steeple 
tlia  old  gaol  of 


Ayr. 

Paob    143,   Notb 
Wallace  Tower,  which  f 

and  replaced  by  a  new 


taking  of  the  nide  o 


1Z5.— The    I 


Hosted  by  Google 


NOTES  TO  THE 


cture,  and  ftom  it  n 
It  keeping  with  the  basemeiit,  cecUinly 

eaxaa  foundalisn  in  the  High  Street  of  Ayr, 
Pagb  143,  NOTB  lae.— Tlie  falcon,  or  aa 
it  is  comDionlf  culled,  the  Oos-hawk.  The 
imagerr  of  this  posea^e  u  as  beautiful  as 
the  expression. 

Paob  143,  Note  127.— A,  well-known 
ford  in  the  River,  immediately  uiioie  the 
Auld  Brig. 

pABE  1*3,  Note  128,— Generally,  as  the 
rapid  enlij^htenment  of  the  Scottish  people 
h^  dispelled  the  superstitions  which  were 
wont  to  hang  about  acme  localities,  even  to 
the  charm  and  poetical  ima^ry  with  which 
such  superstitions  served  at  times  to  invest 
them,  the  spmcs  of  Garpal  Water  are  yet 
actnowledgeJ  to  retain  their  supremacy,  and 
the  spot  is  as  lirmly  believed  to  be  liui 


Paqb  145,  Note  136  —Yearns— Eagles 
PiOE  146,  Note  137— "I  look  on  ^am  o" 
Skanter  as  my  stnudard  performanee  in  tha 
poetical  line." — Burns. 

"When  my  fhther  fewed  hia  httle  property 
near  AUowAy  Kirk,  the  wall  of  the  church- 
yard had  goBB  to  ruin,  and  cattle  bad  tree 
liberty  of  pasture  in  it.  My  talhcr  and  two 
or  three  neighbours  joined  in  an  application 
to  the  town-council  of  Ayr,  who  ncre  sape- 
riors  of  the  adjoining  land,  foe  liberty  to 

for  enclosing  this  ancient  cemetery  with  a 
wall ;  hence,  he  came  to  eonsider  it  as  hia 

for  it  people  generally  he 


B  of  tl 


My  1 


Fagb  144,  Noi'E 


Paqe  1*4,  Note  131.— Mr,  Mclachlan 
was  at  that  time  well  bnovn,  and  niucb  ad- 
mired for  hia  taste  in  the  performance  of 

Faqb  14S,  Note  132.— A  complimen- 
tary allusion  to  Captain  Hugh  Montgomery, 
otherwise  called  hodger  llttgh  by  Burns, 
(who  subsequently  succeeded  to  the  Earldom 
of  Eglintonj,  aud  whose  faoiily  scat  o( 
CoilaQeld  is  situated  on  the  Taile,  or  Feal,  a 


E  145,  ^ 


a  133/- 


duction  of  flnms  to  Mrs.  Sicwart.  of  1 
has  been  detailed.  The  present  paasag 
complimentary  allusion  to  the  same  lad 

Pace  145,  Nute  13*.— Catrine  »i  . 
ve  have  already  had  occasion  to  state,  the 
»eat  of  Dr.  Stewart,  the  father  of  Professor 
Sngald  Stewart,  to  whose  honour,  and  in 
compliment  of  whom,  this  allusion  is  made, 

PAfiB  145,  KOTE  135.— "The  Elegy  on 
Captaui  Henderson  is  a  tribute  to  the 
memory  of  a  man  I  loved  much." — Burns. 
Captam  Henderaon  was  a  retned  soldier,  of 
Hgieeable  manners,  and  upright  charai 
who  liad  a  lodging  in  Carrubber's  Cloa^ 
Edinburgh,  and  mingled  with  the  hes 
ciety  of  the  city.  Mr.  Cunningham  si 
on  the  authority  of  Sir  Thomas  AVallaee,  ulio 
knev  him,  that  he  "  dined  regularly  at  for- 


ng  in  EIHsland,  wlien  Coptain  Grose,  on 
perigriuations  thiougli  Scotland,  staid 

id,  with  Captain  Bobert  Uiddel,  of  Glen- 
[kl,  a  particular  fnend  of  my  brother's. 
The  antiquary  and  the  poet  were  '  unco  pack 
and  thick  thegilher.'  Bobeit  requested  of 
Captain  Grose,  when  he  should  coine  to 
Ayrshire,  that  he  would  make  a  drawuig  of 

his  Cather,  where  he  himself  liad  a  sort  of 
cliiim  to  lay  down  his  hones  when  they 
should  be  no  longer  serviceable  to  him ;  and 
idded,  by  way  of  encouraronient/that  it  was 
he  scfue  of  many  a  good  story  of  witches 
md  apparitions,  of  which  he  knew  the  cap- 
ain  was  very  fond.  The  captain  agreed  to 
the  request,  provided  the  poet  would  fur* 
'  '  a  witch  story,  to  be  printed  along  with 
'  Tarn  o'  Shooter '  was  produced  on  tliis 


'Grose's  AntiquitiesofSootland."'—GiLBEBT 
Burns. 

mer  in  the  parish  of  KirkoS'^ald,  iu  Carrick, 
that  the  poet  became  acquainted  with  ths 
characters  and  circumstances  afterwards  in- 
trodneed  into  TaEn  o*  Sliaiiter,  The  hero 
was  an  hunest  farmer,  named  Dooglas  Gra- 
ham, who  lived  at  Shanter,  between 
Turnherry  and  Colaean.  His  wife,  Helen 
M'Taggut,  was  much  addicted  to  supersti- 
tions beliefs.  Graham,  dealing  much  m 
malt,  went  to  Ayr  every  market  day,  whither 
he  was  frequently  accompanied  by  a  shoe- 
igllbour.    John    "  -   •-     -'- 


little  I 


Blatehi 


The  t 


Hosted  by  Google 


POEMS  OF  BUBSg. 


beCveen  jest  and  et 
glera  of  Ihe  Carrick 


neat  tlie  Bridge  of 

day  at  the  market. 
49  ivife,  he  imposed 


;  Gcaham'a  story  told 
uparstiiely  kce  period 


P  BtoNOESa  Tl¥ia„  where 
a  panali  church  li  situaMd  is  asuslly  coiled 
the  Kirklon  in  Scotland.  A  certain  Jeaq 
Kennedy,  who  kept  a  reputahle  puhlic-houae 
in  the  Tillage  of  Kiikoswald,  is  here  alluded 

Page  U7,Note  13B.— "AUoway  Kitk, 
with  ita  little  enclosed  hurial  ^ro^nd,  stands 
beaide  the  road  from  Ayr  to  Mayboie,  about 
two  njilea  from  the  former  towiL  The 
oiig  been  roofless,  but  tlie  walla 


the  apcctatoi 
Wage  for  the  perEo 


well  preserved,  ai 
the  eaat  end.    tjpoik  Ene  who 
irith  the  idea,  tb 


was  consirierably  t«  the  west  of  the  present 
one,  which,  nevertlieleaa,  haa  eiisted  since 
before  the  time  of  Burns.  Upon  a  Geld 
aiiDut  a  quarter  of  a  mile  to  the  north-weat 
of  the  kirk,  is  a  single  tree  enclosed  with  a 
paling,  (he  lost  renmant  ot  a  group  which 

' the  cairn 

Where  hunters  faud  the  murdered  bairn ;' 


icliapman  smooi^d;' 
a  small  bum  {which 
Hin),  being  two  places 
is  described  as  haiinjf 
way.    The  toad  then 


ta  individual,  called  in  the  poem 
'Muiigo's  mither,'  committed  luiride,  ap. 
proacbed  Allowaj  Kirk  upon  the  west, 
niese  cucumstances  may  here  appear  trivial, 
but  it  is  surprising  with  what  interest  any 

behold  ciery  part  of  which  can  be  associated, 
however  remotely,  with  the  poem  of  Tan 
0*  SAau^er.  The  churchyard  contains  Beveral 
old  manumcnts,  of  a  very  humble  descrip- 
tion, markingthe  resting-places  of  undistui. 


if  his  death,  together  n 


way  piecemeal,  there 


?he  '  irinnock  bunker  in 

la  feature,  being  a  small 
'  ■ -k  muilion.  Around    ( 


'  the  kirk  •■er 


poem,  to  be  informed  that  the  old  toad  from 
Ayr  to  this  spot,  by  which  Barns  supposed 
hia  hero  to  have  approached  AUoway  Kirk, 


test  in  tlus  doubly  consecrated  ground. 
Among  these  is  one  to  the  memory  of  a  per- 
son named  Tyrie.  who,  visiting  the>  spot 
some  years  ago,  happened  to  etpreas  a  wish 
that  he  might  he  laid  in  AUjway  church- 
yard, and,  aa  fate  woald  have  ii.  was  interred 

fortnight.  Nor  is  this  all;  fw  even  tha 
neighbouring  gentry  are  now  contending 
for  departments  in  this  fold  of  the  departed, 
aod  it  is  probable  that  the  elegant  mausolett 
of  rank  and  wealth  will  soon  be  jostling 


Ho,t,db,  Google 


BOTES   TO  THE 


I   the   middle  of  the  neunC  rv 
im.    And,  et  the  some  time,  it  m 


gDiDs  fomard,  it  ia  fu  ksi 
retreat. — Buuns. 

Page   148,  Notb   HI.— 
ywra    uotbiug   leas  would   a 


le  than 

_„  ^..  ._ _      ..s,  I  thiofc. 

ijtout  Hghleea  oc  nineteen  when  I  sketched 

bursting  of  a  cloud  of  fkmll;  misfortunes, 
which  had  for  EOme  time  threatened  ds, 
preveiiEed  my  faither  progress.  Ill  those 
days  I  neret  wrote  down  any   tiling;    so, 

eaped  my  memory.    Thes3 


tinctlj  K 


to  meet  with  a  child  of  miser;,  and  to  burst 
out  into  this  rhapsody." — Burns. 
Page  148,  Note  142.— "'Ilicre  is  scarcely 

know  if  I  should  call  it  pleasure — hut  aome- 
''lingwLieli  esalcs  


side  of  a 


.  walk  Di 


.T  plan 


winter's  day,  and   hear  the    stormy  n 


harp  on  the  willow  trees,  eicept  in  some 

these  lines." — Bo  ems. 
Page  J49,  Note  I4S.— The  "Prayer," 

feinting  Rts,  and  other  alarming  symptoms 
of  a  pleurisy,  or  some  other  diuigerous  dis- 
order (which  indeed  still  threatens  me)  first 
put  nature  on  the  alarm."~BURHa. 

Page  149,  Note  148.— KHisjeoB,  is  the 
French,  ss  Burn  is  (he  Scottisft,  term  for 
stream.  Ruisseaax  is  the  plural  of  Ruisseau, 
as  Barm  is  of  Bam:  and  hence  the  liu- 
morous  transUCion  of  his  own  uame  in  the 
Elesy  of  Robert  Bums. 

Page  150,  Note  147.— Tha  Eev.  Jamea 
Scotch  dewy 


1  London,  and  nltinialely  m 


f  Mr.  Oaviii  B 
t  ilr.  Haioiltori 


llie  tradition  in  the  tuaiXj 
nilton  is,  thM  the  poet,  in 
urch  at  AUuchline,  called 


and,  sittinj;  down  fnr 
Hamilton's  business  tal 


:ca 


the  plain.   It  ia  my  best  season  of  devotion ; 

native  country.    The  prominent  points  re- 

lated to  the  doctrines  of  oriKiiial  sbi  and  the 

to  Him,  who  in  the  pompous  language  of 

the  Hebrew  hard,  "Walks  on  the  wings  of 

to  the  right  of  palronago.    Bums  took  tha 

the  wind."    In  one  of  these  seasons,  just 

moderate  and  liberal  side,  and  seems  to  hava 

aRer  a  train   o(  misfortunes,  I  composed 

delighted  in  doing  all  be  conid  to  torment 

ITrHter,  B   CiiTje- BUENS.     According  to 

the  zealous  party,  who  were  designated  as 

Gilbert  Bums,  this  is  one  otBunis's  eorliest 

the  AM  I^^ht,.    The  first  of  his  poetic 
offspring  that  saw  the  light,  was  a  burlesque 

pieces,  and  he  has  assigned  1734  as  its 

dsta 

loiaentalion     ou    a   quarrel    between    two 

Paoe  143,  Note  143,— A  quoUUon  from 

reverend    Calviiiista,    which    he   circnlated 

anonymously,  and  which,  "with  a  certain 

Pase  149,  Note  144,— "There  was  a 

description  of  the  clergy,  as  well  as  laity. 

period  of  mj  life  that  my  spirit  was  well  nigh 

met  with  roars  of  applause."    This  was  the 

broken  by  repeated  losses    and    disasters. 

Tmi  Ilcrda.    The  heroes  of  the  piece  were 

which  threatened,  and  indeed  effected,  the 

the    Rei.  Alesander    Moodie.  minister  ot 

ntter  ruin  of  my  fortune.    My  body,  too. 

Riccarton,  and  the  Eev.  John  Eussdl,  minis- 

was  attacked  by  that  most  dreadful  dis- 

ter of  a  chapel  of  ease,  at  Kilmarnock,  both 

temper,  a  hypochondria,  or  confirmed  melan- 

of  tUem  eminent  as  leaders  of  the  Auld 

chulj.  In  this  wretched  state,  the  reeollectioa 

light  patty.      In  riding  home  together  lliey 

ol  wliich  makes  me  yet  shudder,  I  hung  my 

got  iWo  a  warm  dispute  regarding  some 

Ho,t,db,  Google 


POEMS  OP  BURSS. 


fKHnC  of  doclHnCj 
They  »ppear  to 
vhen  tbe  point  w 


riiikle  on 


e  Fresby- 


:]nding  Burns),  they 
entirelj,  and  "abuaed  each 
othM,"  Mys  Mr.  Lockhart,  ' 
Tehemence  of  personal  iovecti' 
been  long  banished  from  all  [ 
a  the  k"s  of  coi 


„  s  a  popular  story  of 
this  quarrel  having  ulcimately  come  to  hlova ; 
but  if  such  had  been  the  case,  (be  poet 
would  certainly  have  adverted  to  it  x — 
Chambers. 

Page  150,  Notk  149.— Russell  is  do- 
sctibed  as  a  "lai^e,  robust,  datk-eotn- 
pleiioued  man,  imperturbably  grave,  fierqe 
of  tenkpcr,  and  of  a  stem  expresuotL  of 
countenance."  He  preaohed  with  much  vi 
hemence,  aiid  at  the  height  of  a  iremendoi 


le  was  Moderator  of  the  Gcoi 
Assembly  io  1775.  lie  had  a  fine  old 
clergymauly-kind  of  wit.  In  the  house  of  a 
man  of  rank,  where  he  spent  the  night,  an 
slarin  took  place  after  miduiitbt,  which 
brought  all  the  members  of  (ho  family  from 
their  dormitories.  The  doctor  encountered 
a  countess  in  her  chemise,  which  occasioned 

morning,  a  lidy  asked  him  what  he  thought 

"  Oh,  my  lady,"  said  he,  ■'  I  was  in  a  IrirMe." 


PaOe  ISO,  Note  157.— There  w. 


ph« 


caught  th 

a  mile.  He 

V 

Stirling,  w 

here  he  d 

eda 

M  o(  mor( 


Paqe  150,  Note  150,— Dt.  Robert  Dun- 
can, minister  of  Dundoiiald.  Eicepdug  in 
his  lunbs,  whicli  were  short,  be  bore  a  strong 
persoual  leseinblance  to  C  buries  James 
Foi. 

Paqb  ISO,  Note  151.— Rer.  William 
Peebles,  of  NcHton-npou-Ayr.  See  notes 
to  Holy  Fiiir.  and  Kirifj  Alarm. 

Pace  150,  Note  1S2.— Rev.  William 
Anid,  mmisler  of  Maiuhliue. 

Page  150,  Note  153.— Rev.  Dr.  Dal- 
rymple,  one  of  the  minislera  of  Ayr.  He  di 


person  nanied  in  the  poem.    The  assistant 

M'Math,  elsewhere  alluded  to. 

Page  151,  Note  153.— Tlia  Rev.  Mt. 
(afierwardi  Dr.)  Smith,  »ho  figures  in  the 
Holy  Fair  as  one  of  the  tent  preachers. 

Page  151,  Note  159.— Die  bwo  of  this 
daring  eiposition  of  Calianiatic  theol<^, 
was  William  Fisher,  a  &rmcr  in  the  neigh- 
bourhood of  Mauchline,  and  an  elder  hi  Mr 
" d  himself 


He  h 


«  alluded  ti 


n  these 


and  Bums  appears  to 


Re      W 


of    Dr.  Dalrym 
Page  I5Q,  N 


a  fine  sneaker  a      a 
Dr.    David,    in 
piodigy.    He  * 
before  he  requi  ed 
period  of  life  he 


d  displayed  on  that  occasion. 

Fisher  was,  probably,  a  poor  nattow-witted 

tore,  with  just  sufficient  sense  (o  make  a 

»  of  sanctity.    When  removed  to  aoothn 

sh.  and  there  acting  as  an  elder,  he  wai 

nod  giiilty  of  some  peculations  in  the  fundi 

•'a  Alarm,     Ultimately,  coming  home 

ntoiication,  he  fell  from  the  vehicle,  and 

Page   151,    Note  160.— Tliese   essays 
e  published  in  exposition  of  the  doctrine) 
Dt.  McGill,  so  violently  pcraecnlsd  by 
be  heroes  of  orthodoxy. 

Page  152,  Note  181.— Dr.  Taylor  of 
N  rwich,  whose  doctrines  were  advocated  by 
G    die  and  McGill. 

AGE  152,  Note  163. — A  hearty  partisan 
he  heterodox  theological  school,  rcmark- 
le    amongst    his     fcUow-Kirmera    t^   tha 


Ho,t,db,  Google 


NOIBS  TO  THE 


of  the  orlhodoi  heroes.     He  occupied  a  fatm 
railed  Adam  hill,  near  Totboltoii. 
Paoe  152,  Note  163.— "A  eertaio  humo- 

Boiae  in  the  countty-side." — Burns.     Mr. 
Cunoiiighara  gives  the  tolloiiTiig  account  of 

practice  of  calling  all  hia  ^miliar  aiiqiuiiiC- 
'  Well,  ye  brute,  ' 


to.da;? 


le  of  aaluUl 
H>mpBny,  hia  lordship,  ha' 
n  this  rudeness  more  than 
led    to  Bankine  and  eiclaii: 


dreamed  I  iras  d«ad,  and  that  lor  keeping 
other  than  giide  company  on  earth,  I  was 
Beat  down  stairs,  ^^lieii  I  knocked  at  tht 
low  door,  wha  should  open  it  but  the  deil ; 
ha  was  in  a  roi^h  humour,  and  said,  '  Wlia 
may  ye  he,  and  what*a  your  name  ?  *  '  My 
name,'  quoth  I.  '  is  John  Bankine,  and  my 
dwelling-place  was  Adam-hil!.'      '  Gae  wa" 

ye're  ane  o"  Lord  K.'s  brutes— hell's  fou  o' 
them  already.""  This  sharp  rebuke,  it  is  said, 
pohahed  for  the  future  hia  lordtihip's  speech, 
Paoe  153,  Note  164. — Some  occurrencs 
is  e?idently  here  alluded  to.  We  have 
heard  the  following  account  of  it,  but  cannot 
vouch  for  its  correctness  i — A  noted  tealot 
of  the  opposite  party  (the  name  of  Holy 
Willie  has  been  mentioned,  hut  more 
probably,  from  the  context;  the  iudividual 
must  have  been  a  clergyman),  calling 


ofTai 


Paoe  15a,  Note  167.— AI 
joying  the  appointment  of  o 
Kcjsor  to  the  Hey.  Peter  Woodi      , 

lolton.  He  was  an  excellent  preacher, 
decided  moderate.  He  enjoyed  the 
iendship  of  theMontgomeries  of  CoilsGeld, 
id  of  Bums ;  but  unhappily  fell  into  iov 

tuation,  and  became  dissipated.  After 
ling  tor  some  time  tutor  to  a  family  in  the 
i'eatcm  Isles,  it  is  said  that  this  unfortunate 

Page    153,  Note   163.— Oawn,  Oawin] 
aviii.     Alluding  to  Gavin  Hamilton, 
Paoe  154,  Note  169.— All  the  anuaions 


le  great  leaders,  or  great  eveni 


which  happen 

Pace  1B4  Note  170.— An  alhlaion  to 
the  unanticipated  return  of  a  considerable 
majonty  of  Scottish  members  in  support  of 
Wilbam  Pitt,  upon  the  election  incidental  to 
the  openii^  of  his  administration. 

Page   156,  :  


which    actually  occ 

witnessed  by  Bnrns,  st  Mauchline,  in  Decem- 


a  glass 


invited  hi 


With  much  entreaty, 

f  loddv.       The  stranger 

'ed  very  strong, 

'      ■  jid- 


or  Kla.pka  hats  and  the  li: 
---'-   aoveral  balloon  aso 
er  of  1785, In  Scoth 


mnarkiiig  that  the  liquor 
Mr,  Bankine  pointed  out,  as  any  ocner  i 
lord  would  haie  done,  that  a  httle  more 
water  might  improve  it,      Tlie  kettle 
ucordingly  resorted  to,  but  still  the  hquu 
appeared  over-potent.    Again  he  tilled  uf 


icon!  les  reglet,  appended  to 


hot    i 


dimun 


siprang  ai 


ength.     AU  tt 


Still  n 


ruest  ended  by  tumbling  dead.c 

floor.    The  tnck  played  upon  him,  requires. 

«f  course  no  cKplanation. — Chambeks. 

Paoe  153,  Note  16S. — Ad  allusion  t 
•omesong  which  had  beui  promifed  by  John 
Bauldne  to  Burns. 


Mr.  Pitt  made 

number  of  ta  .  „ 

were  female  servants,  in  order  to  liquidate 

ben  milUona  of  unfunded  debt.    The  poem 

ieema  to    have  been  called    forth  by  ths 

receipt  of  the  neit  annual  mandate  from 


Paoe  136,  Note  174.— The  off  foru 
orae,  or  leader,  in  the  plough. 

Page  l.i5.  Note  176.— 'lite  oft  draught 
urse  in  the  plousb. 


..,  Google 


P0EM8  OP  BUEN3. 

Page   158,  Note  1 


appear 


Page  156,  Note  177— The  near  wheel 
harse  in  the  ploDgh. 

Page  157  Note  178— An  allusion  to 
one  of  the  questions  (namely  -17liiit  ia 
effectual  csilii^  ?  ")  in  the  Calechiain  pro- 
poimiled  by  the  Westniiiiatet  Aaaemblj  of 

Page  157,  Note  179.— A  child  bom  I 
the  poet  hy  a  servant  giri  of  the  name  i 
Elizabeth  Faton.  She  grew  up  eiuediTi;-! 
like  her  father,  end  became  the  wife  of  M 
John  Bishop,  overseer  a.t  Falkemmet  in  lii 
litl^Tsliire,  and  died  there,  Dec.  8, 1S17- 

Pagk  157,  Note  180.— Toocie  lived  in 
Mauchline,  and  dealt  in  con.  The  age  of 
these  animals  is  raarlted  hy  rings  on  -'-'- 
horns,  which  may  of  course  be  cut 
poliahed  oS,  so  aa  to  cause  the  cat 
appear  younger  than  it  is,  I'his  viMi . 
called  aaeek^amug,  and  he  ^ho  perpebates 


in  the  disi 


Pagb  157.  Note   1 


—The  a 


arj.) 


e  poet,  Jlr.  ChuU 


Paoe  1S7,  NoTi 

men,  asked  Bums  to  wnie  a  poeiic  epistie  in 
his  behalf  to  a  youn^  lady  whom  he  ad- 
mired. BnniB,  who  had  seen  the  lady,  but 
*as  scarcely  acquainted  with  her,  complied 
by  penning;  the  above, — Cba^hkss. 

Page  183,  Mors  183.— "These  verses,  in 
the  handwriuns  of  Sums,  are  copied  from 


t  Mar. 


strong  marks  of  the 
and  are  evidently  an  cMempore  effu»on 
of  hia  characteristie  feehngs.  They  hear 
internal  proof  of  their  having  been  written 
at  that  interesting  period  of  his  life,  wbea 
he  was  on  the  point  of  leaving  the  coantry 

which  his  proposals  for  marrying  his  '  bouny 
Jean'  (his  future  wife)  were  at  lirsC  received 
by  her  parents." — Moiheeweli. 

Page  138,  Norn  184.— There  ia  aoms 
doubt  as  to  the  authenticity  of  these  pretty 
hues.    It  has  been  aretTCd  upon  very  good 


authority  tliat  the  n 

Triting  of  Robert  Bums,  is  yet  e: 

in  the  possession  of  Mr.  A . 


bard  ot  Ayr,  they  maybe  accepted.  Th^ 
were  first  pnbhdhed  at  Liverpool,  in  a  peri- 
odical called  the  Kaleidmcupe, 


wife  of  his  tondeit  affections  had  foraakeu 

stances,  we  may  conjecture  (hat  the 
present  alluded  to  was  a  copy  of  the  Kil- 
marnock eiliiiDii  of  poems,  then  newly  pnb- 
lishcd.  The  verses  appeared  in  tho 
San     newspaper,    April     1823.  —  Cham. 

Page  153.  Note  186.— "The  first  time 
Robert  heard  the  spinnet  played  upon,  was 
at  the  house  of  Br.  Laurie,  miaisler  of  Lou. 
don  (about  October  1780).  Dr.  L.  had 
several  duiishterB — one  i^theiu  played;  ths 
fiiiher  and  the  mother  led  doi^n  the  dance; 
the  rest  of  the  MSters,  the  brother,  the  poet, 
and  the  other  guests,  mixed  in  it.  It  was  a 
delightful  family  scene  for  our  poet,  then 
lately  introduced  to  the  worll.  His  mind 
was  roused  to  apoetic  enthusiasm,  and  the 
stanzas  were  left  in  the  room  where  he 
alept." — BiLBSBT  BoBNa.  Dr.  laurie  was 
the  meilium  throush  which  Dr.  ijiacklodt 
transmitted  the  letler,  by  which  Bnrns  wai 
arrested  on  his'  diglit  to  the  West  Indies, 
and  induced  to  go  to  Edinburgh.      This 

£ev.  Mr.  Bultijur  Graham,  minister  of  North 
Berwick,  who  is  connected  with  the  family 
by  marriage.  Dr.  lAurie,  and  his  son,  who 
was  his  successor  in  the  pastoral  chai^  of 
the  parish,  are  both  deceased. 

IDE  159,  N;iTH  188.— This  meeting 
place.  October  23,  1783,  at  Catrine,  ths 
of  ProfesaoE  Stewart,  to  which  Burns 
now  taken  for  the  first  time  by  .Mr. 
'geon,  Manehline.    Lord  Daer, 


of  Selkirk, 
Stewart,  w 
greatest  pi 
from  IVano 


had  been  a  pupil  of  Mr. 
i  young  nobleman  of  the 
Le.      He  bad  just  returned 


of  some  of  tho»e  men  who  afterwards  figured 


Selkirk,  diatiuguished  by  his  eiertions  in 
use  of  emigration,— -Ckam  BEES, 
JE  159,  Note  189.— Msjor  Lojan,  a 


..,  Google 


4M 


Mlher  jou  tonl  tlie  water  oat  o't."  Visiter 
ou  his  deathbed  by  Mr.  Cutbill,  ddb  of  I 
ininiglers  of  Ayr,  who  lEiDBiked  thst 
would  take  farHlsde  to  support  auch  luffi 
iogs  Da  be  waa  viaitod  with ;  "  Ay,"  aaid  t 
poor  wit,  "it  would  take  fiftitade"  At  t 
titne  when  the  above  letter  was  addressed 


NOTES  TO  THE 

?hope»  m  Itoxbor^hire — a  ledy  of  tnste 
the  pen— bad  addressed  (February 


AyrsI 


the 


to  whooi  Bums  presented  a  eopy 


Pagb  160,  Note  190.— Wii 
ractenstio  humour  with  which  h 
ele^  aiid  epitu|ih  of  Thomaj  S 
bis  own  elegy.  Bums  wrote  this 
himself,  when  he  antidpsted  li' 

filed  his  views  as  1 

PA61 

dish  peci 

beofFr 

miixced  oSel  of  mutton,  miied  with  oatmenl 

and  suec,  and  boiled  in  a  sheep's  sKimaeli, 

Wlien  made  in  Etipa't  way,  with  "a  cum 

d' spice"  Iseethe  Gentle  Skepienli,  it  in  an 

Mteeable,  albeit  a  somewhat  heavy    dish, 

the  idea  of  its  preparation.  Tlie  EdMunjh 
iifemryJoamo;  of  November  7, 1829,  mates 
the  follawin;;  sutemenC  >— "  Abont  sixteen 
years  a^,  there  resided  at  Mauddiue  a  Mr. 
Bflbert  Jtorrison,  oahiiiet-maker.  He  was  a 
great  crony  of  Bums,  and  it  was  in  Mr. 
Sf  orrison'a  honse  that  the  poet  usually  spent 
the  'midso'  the  day 'on  Sunday.  It  was  in 
this  house  that  he  wrcrie  his  celehrated  Ad- 
drcit  to  n  Hasnii,  after  partaking  liberally  of 
that  dish,  as  prepared  by  Mrs,  Morrison." 
The  Ettrick  Shepherd  has,  on  the  contrary, 

house  of  Mr.  Andrew  Bruce,  Castle  Hill, 
ibiu^h,  afler  in  like  manner  partaking  of 


thedi 


Ushcd  in  the  Se 


_    .,      le  tor  January  1787. 

PahB    162,    Note    192.— Miss    I/igan, 

liad  preiiously  addressed  a  poetical  epistle. 
(See  antea,  page  159.) 
Page  163,  Note  193.— Mt.  Hay  Camp. 

to  speak  as  the  subject  of  cumphmentsry 
allusions.     He  was  subsequently  president 
of  Ihc  Gaud  of  Cession,  uid  died  in  1S23. 
Paqe  182,  Note  194.- Tlie  Honou«ljle 


1787)  tl 

Bums,  which  called  forth  the  ensuing  lerses, 

as  a  reply  or  seknowledgment. 

Paob  IG3,  NoTB  198.— Mr.  Woods  had 
been  the  friend  of  Fergiisson.    He  was  long 


-The  hero  of  Mac- 
V  of  which  Burns 


B  18*,  Note  198.- Writi 


by  protracting  the  eettlemeut  of  their  ac- 
counts. The  trnth  is,  iliai  Mr.  Creech, 
tiioiis;b      m  te  ar  t,  ^reat  plea* 


common  p       as  ves     H  yed  high  re- 

liied  on  nu  ui  rm  w  h  many  of  the 
literary  men  of  his  day.  His  house,  in  one 
of  tlie  eleiated  floors  of  a  tenement  hi  the 
High  Street,  accessible  from  a  wrclehcd 
alley  called  Craig's  Close,  was  frequented  in 
the  mornings  by  company  of  that  kind,  to 

called  Creecii's  Lan.  Burns  liere  enuuK- 
rales  as  attending  it,  Dr.  Jacnes  Gregory, 
author  of  the  Caxapa.iaa  Medicma:  Tytler, 
of  Wool ^  - 


of   Slan 
Gceeolleld.  pi 


Ciuee 


of  Scots;    Dr.   Willi 


rsity;  Henry  M 


f  rhetoric  in  the  £din- 


mithor 
ol  The  MttiK^  feeliiig ;  tXiADa^AStewan, 
professor  of  moral  philosophy.  Mr.  Creech 
more  than  once  Hllcd  the  chair  of  Lord  Pro- 
vost of  t^dinburgh,  and  is  noted  as  the  only 
person  who  ever  saired  mouey  off  the  salary 
then  attaclied  to  the  olBoe.  Wiih  reference 
to  his  penurious  bachelorly  habits,  a  native 

kiicbens  of  the  chief  magistrates  of  London 
appeanuiCB  of  plenty  that  eould  be  expected 


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POEMS   OP   BUEN3. 


■  Ibi^  nnd  mnniGixnt  estsblishmeiit, 


.ncbed 


hoiueteepei  . 
place,  where  the  OBt  was  perched  for  warmth 
upon  a  ojUherim  coal.  Mr-  Creech  died  in 
1815,  ^d  70  years.— Chambers. 

Page  164,  Note  199.— Edinburgh. 

Padb  164,  Note  200.— The  Chamher  of 
CommercB  of  Edinburgh,  of  whtcb  Mr. 
Cwech  was  secretary. 

Paob  165,  Note  SOL— James  Hunter 


t  Ayr, 


«  1741.     Hi 


Williaii 

first  of  July,  1 


rersally  cs 


I.     He  pur. 
„  li™  of  Sic 


— iTie  Eoyal  Park 
■-  Anthony's 


Page  165,  Ni 
of  Holyrood, 

Paqs    165,  Note   203.' 
Well 

Paqb   165,  Nora   204.— St,  Anthony's 
Chapel. 

Pahe  166,  Note  205.- "The  first  object 
■ ' ' I  npon  the  public  road 


sfter  lei 


igBluii 


the  right  hand,  rhrough  which  the  little  river 
Bniar  falls  in  a  series  ot  beautiful  cascades. 
Formerly,  the  falls  of  the  Bruar  were  nn- 
adomcd  by  wood;  but  the  poet  Burns,  being 
conducted  to  see  them  (September  1787), 
after  lisiting  the  Duke  of  Athole,  recom. 
mended  that  they  should  be  invested  with 
that  necessary  decoration.  Accordidgly,  trees 
have  been  thickly  planted  alons  the  chasm, 
and  are  now  far  advanced  to  maturity. 
Thronghont  tlus  young  (brest,  >  wait  lias 
been  cut,  and  a  number  of  &ntastic  httle 
grottoes  erected  for  the  canieniency  of  those 
who  visit  the  spot.  The  river  not  only  makes 
aeieral  distinct  falls,  but  rushes  on  through 
a  diannel,  whose  rouglniess  and  ruKjted 
■ubiimity  adds  greatly  ta  the  merits  ot  tl 
scene,  as  an  olgect  of  interest  among  tourists 
—Picture  of  Scetl/DuL 

Page  167.  Note  206.— Eobett  Dund; 
of  Amiston,  elder  brother  of  Viscount  Mi 
lille;  born  1713,appoiuted  preudent  in  176 
and  died  December  13, 1737,  after  a  eho 
illness.  Boras  sent  a  copy  of  the  poem 
Suadas's  son,  aftervards  Lord  Advccate  ai 
Lord  Chief  Buoii,  but  received  no  answer 


Edinburgh.  It  took  its  name  of  CfochaWai 
Feiicibta  from  a  beiuliful  plaintive  Higlilaul 
ar,  Cro  CAaieiB— literally  CoUu'a  Cattle— 
which  Douglas  occaaionally  sang  with  mudi 

Page  1S8,  Note  209,- William  Tytler, 
Esq.  otWoodhoiiselce  (born  1711,died  1792), 
a  member  of  the  Society  of  Writers  to  the 
Signet,  had  published  in  1759  "An  Enquiry, 
Historical  and  Cntical,  into  the  Evidence 
against  Mary  Ouecn  of  Scots,"  in  wliieh  tbo 
favourable  side  of  her  case  is  adopted. 

Page  169,  Note  210.— One  of  a  serio 
intended  fbr  a  projected  work,  under  the  title 
of  Tie  Pasfi   Pm'jrea.    These  lines  were 

to  Professor  Dugold  SLewurt,  in  which  it  is 
thus  noticed : — "  The  fragment  heginnmg,  > 
liltlo,  upright,  pert,  tart,  &c,  1  have  not 

rms  tlia  postulata,  the  aiiomi, 
of  a  cbaracter,  which,  if  it 

(ball  be  placed  in  a  variety  of 
lights.  This  particular  part  I  send  yon, 
merely  as  a  sample  of  my  band  at  poriralc 

Page  189,  Note  211,— For  more  ei- 
ilicit  particulars  in  respect  at  Miss  Cruick. 
""""'"    ' — ' —  these  lines  are  addressed. 


the  deiinitii 


longi 


ititled 


Page  16H,  Not 


referred  to  the  ni 
—It  \i 


ewhat 


.ce),  whir 


vely  (en  of  the 
itten  oy  Hums  tram  this  time  foi> 
■e  been  addressed  directly  to  "  Cla. 

""in  ti 


Paqb  168,  Note  207.- Printer, 
bui^h — author  of  the  Philosophy  of  Natural 
History,  and  member  of  the  Scottish  Antiqua- 
rian Sodety.  He  died  in  1795,  in  the  fifty- 
fifth  year  of  his  age. 

Paqe  163,  Note  203.— A  clnb  to  which 
Bums  and  Smellie  belonged,  and  which  met 
in  Dougbs's  tavern  in  the  Anchor  Close. 


■going 
uuLVB  vj  uLciuc  »c  iiiiviriiic(!ady  had  occasion 

career  of  Mrs.  McLehose  (Clarini^  and  ire 
shall  have  further  occasion  to  atluds  to  her 
hereafter,  on  which  account  great  detail  in 
this  place  would  be  superRnous.  It  should, 
however,  be  remarked  that  the  beautiful  song 
My  Namie'a  awa,  and  some  others  of  the 
most  eiqnisite  productions  of  Burns,  were 
'-'' — '  '"  ■■- passion  for  Clarinda,Blthough 


of  Bun 


NoTii  214.— The  first  of  thi 
),  Tith  reference 


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a  hermitaee  in  the  grounds  of  rriara'  Corse, 
nesr  Elliihnd,  ilie  seat  of  the  poet's  Iriend, 
C&ptsin  BidM  •>(  OteTiclddel. 

Kas  171,  Note  215.— Capiain  lUddel 
had.  in  ths  course  of  poring  over  a  news- 
paper, bilea  upon  some  critical  remains 
leapeotiog  eome  production  o(  Burns,  and 
hfid  aecordiiigly  deapaEciied  thfl  paper  to  the 
poet,  that  he  might  have  an  oppoitiniiC]'  of 
o[)sermg  what  \r»i  said  of  him.  Aod  it  was 
in  returning  thia  paperthat  Burns  accompa- 

entitled  sn  "Entempore  to  Captiun  EiddeL" 
Page  171,  Nors  216.— "The  Mother's 
Lament  wis  composed  partly  with  a  view  lo 
Mrs.  Fei^sson  of  Craigdarnich,  and  partly  to 
the  worihy  patroness  of  ray  early  unknomi 
niBso,  S!ra.  Stewart  of  Afton."- Buhns. 

Page  172,  Note  BIT.— "In  January 
fast  (1739),  onmy  road  to  Ayrshire,  I  had  to 
put  up  at  Baihe  Wigham's  in  Sanquhar,  the 
only  tolerahle  ion  in  the  place.  The  fiott 
woa  keen,  and  the  ^m  eveitin^  and  liowhng 
wind  nere  nshering  in  s  night  of  snow  and 
drift.  My  horse  and  I  were  both  much 
fatigued  with  the  lahonra  of  the  dAy ;  and, 
jnst  as  ray  friend  the  badie  and  I  were  bidding 
defiance  to  the  stona,  over  a  smoking  bowX 
in  wheela  the  funeral  pageantry  of  the  late 
Mrs.  Oswald;  and  poor  1  am  forced  to  brave 
all  the  terrors  of  the  tempeatuoos  night,  and 
jade  my  horse — m^  young  (avouriie  hone, 
whoml  had  juat  christened  Pegasua — farther 
on  through  the  wildcat  hills  and  raonrs  of 
Ayrsliire  to  the  next  innl  The  powers  of 
poetry  and  proae  sank  under  me 
would  describe  whet  Ifblt.  Suffice  i 
that  when  a  good  fire  at  New  Cumr 


t.  I  a 


down  and  wrote  the  enctoaed  ode.' 

Page  172,  Note  ai8.— Mr,  James  Ten- 

at  Bohert  Bums  end  his  family,  and  had 
taten  an  active  part  10  the  selection  of  the 
farm  of  Elhslaud  for  the  poet. 

Page  173,  Notb  219.- Mt.Cnnningham 
mentions  that  the  poor  aniroal  whose  sutFet- 
it^  excited  this  burst  of  indignation  on  the 
part  of  the  poet,  naa  shot  by  a  lad  named 

Nith  at  the  motnent,  eiecraiifi  the  young 
man,  and  spoke  of  thrown^  him  into  the 

7*.  Note  S20, — At  the  period  at 
I  biting  and  well-directed  rehnke 
from  the  pen  of  Burns  appeared,  the  n»gh- 
bourhood,  and,  in  fact,  tlie  whole  Scottish 
Kirk  was  agitated  by  the  most  violent  con- 
troversy, and  the  Kcclesiaatical  Courts  were 


which  tl 


engrossed  with  the  perseeutiou  vindietitelj 
instituted  against  Dr.  William  McUilL 
■Phia  was  about  the  month  of  Aujiust,  1789. 
The  original  ground  of  thb  controversy,  in 
which  l)r.  AlcOill  was  now  figuring,  was 
this: — lu  nSS  he  had  publiihed  a  treatise, 
eiitilled,  A  Practical  S1U31  <in  tie  Deeliof 
Jsaa  Ckriil,  in  lao  FarU — I,  CoRlouiinr;  the 
Jtatorg—Z  The  Doctrine  of  kit  Dtatk.  Dr. 
McGdl  was  at  that  limeoue  of  the  miniaters 
ot  the  parccbral  church  of  Ayr,  and  his 
treatise  waa  alleged  to  be  fraught  with  Ariau 
and  Sonuiau  doctrines,  which  were  deemed 
injiu'ious  to  the  interests  of  the  clergy.  Dr. 
McQill  thus  became  the  butt  of  many  at- 
tacks levelled,  partly  at  his  person  and 
characEer,  and  partly  at  his  work ;  bat  he 

lies,  until  a  minister,  who  had  hitherto 
been  a  warm  and  personal  friend,  became 
his  most  bitter  assailant.  This  was  Dr. 
William  Peebles,  of  Newton-upon-Ayt,  who 

of  November,  17B3,  gratuitously  dniounced 
the  treatise  as  heretical,  uid  Dr.  McGill  as 

privileges  of  the  church,  while  with  tlie  other 
ha  was  endeavouring  to  plunge  the  keenest 
poignard  into  her  heart."  McQill  pubHshed 
a  defence,  which  led,  in  April,  1739,  to  the 
introduction  of  the  case  into  the  preahyterial 
court  of  Ayr,  and  subsequently  into  that  of 
theSynodof  Qlaagowand  Ayr.  Meanwhile, 
tlie  public  out  of  doors  was  agitating  the 
question  with  the  keenest  interest,  and  the 
strife  of  the  liber^  and  aeeloua  parties  in 
the  church  had  reached  a  painful  eitreme. 
It  was  now  that  Bums  took  up  the  pea  ia 
behalf  of  McOill,  whom,  it  is  probable,  he 
sincerely  looked  on  as  a  worthy  snd  entight- 

tion.  The  warragedTtill,  in  April  1790,  tba 
case  cameonfor  trial  before  the  Synod,  when 
McGill  stopped  farther  procedure,  hy  givii^ 
in  a  document,  enpressive  of  his  deep  regret 
for  thediaqiuet  he  hail  occasioned,  eiploiiiiia 
the  challenged  pass^cs  of  his  book,  and 
dectarii^  his  adherence  to  the  standards  ot 
the  church  on  the  points  ot  doctrine  m 
question.  Dr.  Mcffill  died  March  30th, 
1807,  at  the  age  of  seventy-ax,  and  in  the 
fbrty-sixth  year  of  his  minislty.— ^Jriiijsil 
from  Mnnay's  Literary  Hitlory  of  Goito- 


menceioent  of  tl     .  „      ^ 

:&IcGill  before  the  Synod,  tiie  mun 
authorities  of  Ayr  published  a  testimon 
the  newspapers,  avei:ring  tbeii  high  ei 


Ho,t,db,  Google 


POEMS  OP  BURSS. 
t  the  defendant,  both  as  a  man  and  u    any  chance,  in  the  right  wi 
PAGE'l74,NniE823.— Mr.JohnBallsn- Ifeelins  toivarrb  Bu  n     o 

demouilta-    i 


'%y  h  p 


had  taken  an  octive  part  in 
tion  in  favour  of  Dt.  McGili. 

PaOe  174,  NoiE  22i— It  was  by  Mr. 
lUibert  Aiken  (the  lawyer,  the  trieud  uf 
Bums,  and  he  to  whom  the  "Cotters'  Sa- 
Inniay  Mio:hC "  is  dedicated)  that  Dr.  Mc 
Oill  \vBa  delbniled  befOre  the  Syaod.    Mr. 


e  have  before 


le  diBtiB^uished  for  hia 
—Dr.  WLHia 


PAGnl74,NorE __ 

rymple,  as  refflaritahie  for  hia  humble,  modest 
demeauonr,  aa  for  Ids  aoperiot  talents  and 
worth,  ile  was  SEnior  miniatec  to  the  col- 
legiate cliutch  of  Ayr. 

Paok  174,NorE  226.— John  Russell.thB 
preacher,  who  also  figures  in  the  Holy  Fair. 

Paqb  174,  NoTB  a27.— The  Bet.  James 
Mciiiii.  who  figures  aa  the  hero  of  the 
Ordmatios. 

Pace  174,NoTEa98.— AleMsderMoodie, 

the  Taa  Herda. 

Page  174.  Note  S29.— The  Kev.  Mr. 
AiUd.  of  Mauclilme, 

Page  174,  Note  230.— The  derk  vts 
Mr.  tiacin  HamilMu,  whose  defence  a^ioat 
the  choi^ei  preferred  by  Mr.  Auld,  had 
occasioned  much  tronblu  to  ttus  eleigymsii. 

Paob  174,  Note  231.— Mr.  Grant,  of 
Oehillree. 

Page  174,  Note  232.— Mr.  Young,  of 
Cumnock. 

Paqb   174,  Note   S33.— Tlie  Rev.  Dr. 


'  And  hound  m  Liberty's  endearing  chuia" 
The  poetry  of  this  gentlemau  is  said  to  have 
been  indifferent  Hetranslsted  the  Dacii'ies 
of  Cowley,  whicli  some  of  liis  btelbren, 
not  exactly  understanding  what  was  meant, 
tflok  the  liberty  of  calling  Dr.  Peebles'  "Daft 
Jdfos."- Chambers. 

Pabb  174,  NOTC  234,— "Dr.  Andrew 
Hilchell,  MonkCon.  lie  was  so  rich  as  to 
be  able  to  kern  his  carriage,     Eitrerae  lova 

chanicteriEed  this  presbytet.  Inbispray^ 
for  the  royal  family,  be  would  espcesa 
himself  thus:- "Bless  the  Eii^  — his 
M^esly  the  Qneen — her  Jlajesty  the  Prince 
of  Wales."    The  word  chemiatry  be  pro- 


■hemistry,  and  tcbemistry- 


ways- 


!  233.— Rev.  Sir.  Stephen 


fellow."— Cham  ui 

Page  174,  Not 
Young,  of  Barr. 

Pabk  174,  Note  238.— Rer.  Mr.  George 
Smith,  of  Galston.  This  gentleman  is  praised 
as  frieudly  to  common  sense  m  tlte  Hotg 
fair.  Ths  off«iee  nhieh  was  taken  at  that 
praise  probably  oabitCered  the  poet  agaiust 

PaOE  174,  Note  237,— Mr.  John  Shep- 
herd, of  Mniikirk.  The  statistical  account  of 
Muirkirk  couttibnted  by  this  gentleman  to 
Sir  John  Shicl^r'a  work,  is  above  the  average 
in  intelligence,  and  very  agreed>lv  written. 
He  had.  hoivever,  an  nnforCunate  habit  ol 
saying  rude  things,  which  be  mistook  for  wi^ 
and  thus  laid  himself  open  to  Bunis'a  raUre.. 

Paqb  174,  Note  f38,— The  poor  elder,, 
William  Fisher,  whom  Bums  has  so  often. 


in  1807. 

Page  175,  Note  340.- Waited  for. 

Paoe  175,  Note  241^-This  small  piecej 
which  was  an  imitation,  was  forwarded  to. 
the  Star  Nevrspaper  for  publication  in  ths 


the  free  list,  and  supplkd  w 

cry  irregularly.    In  slluson 
certain  manner  in  which  the 

a  Peter,  dear  Peter, 
!  poor  sona  of  metro 
tten  negleckit,  ye  ken  i 
■  iiistiiiee,  your  sheet,  man. 
th  glad  I'm 


1  gel  it 


Paoe  175,  Note  242.— "Mrs.  Dnnlop, 
daughter  and  heiress  of  Sir  Tbomiis  Wallace, 
of  Craigie,  and  at  this  time  widow  of  Jdin 
Dunlop,  of  Dnnlop,  in  Ayrshire,  and  teadent 
at  the  last  mentioned  pkce,  became  ae- 
qnaintel  with  Burns  on  the  publication  of' 
ills  poems  at  CiioLarnock,  and  was  ever  after, 
his  steady  friend.  She  was  a  woman  of  ei. 
cellent  understanding  and  heart,  with  a  con- 


dicd  in  1S15,  a 


B  for  • 


le  age  of  eighty-fo 


..,  Google 


4W 


KOTES  TO  THE 


Pagb  17G,  Note  243.— ^iiliaequeaHj 
Major  General  Dunlop,  of  Dunlnp. 

Page  ITtt,  Note  244,— Bachel,  danshler 
«t  Mrs.  Duiilop,  ans  engaged  upun  U1 
jma^native  skeleh  of  Bunis's  Muse,  Coila. 

PAQB  177,  NoTB  245.— A  mare,  the 
jiroperty  of  Mr.  William  Nico),  «iid  lent  by 
thaC  geiitlfman  to  Burns,  in  nliose  keeping 
3t  becBiae  ill,  and  died  Ht  bis  fum,  of  El^is- 
l«id. 

PaOb  173,  Note  248.— This  piecs  was 


was  Kptodufcd  iu  Cliaiubera'a  Edition  ol 
Burns'*  Works, 

Paqe  178,  NoTB  247,- The  paraM  be. 
*ween  these  lines  nnd  those  of  joUusou,  a 
iollow,  caouot  escape  the  reader : — 
In  bed  we  laugh,  iu  bed  we  cry, 


Of  ill 


a  bliu  .and  humsa  woe. 


e  gmerol 


pAQB  173,  Note  218. — At 
ideetion,  179U,  the  represeiitatioi 
bocongha  of  Dumfries,  Annan,  Kirkcud- 
bright, Sanqiihiir,  and  Locbiuaben,  forming 
one  dectnrsl  disuiet,  was  conleaied  bj  Sit 
James  Johnstone,  of  Westerhall,  in  the 
(  Ti»y,  and  Cafitum  Patrick 


Whig  ot  opposition  inteteet.  Burnt,  who  was 
jnendl;  to  the  latter  party,  here  allegorises 
ths  mnlest:  characterisint;  Dumfries  as 
MaggJ'  on  the  banks  of  Nith;  Annan,  as 
Bess  of  Auoandale;  Kirkcudbright,  as 
Whisky  Jean  of  Galbiray;Sanquliar,asBlaek 
Joan  [rae  Cliricltton  Peel;  and  Loebmaben 
IIS  Marjory  of  the  many  lochs-— appelliuions. 


The 


Paqe   179,   Note  249.— Sit  J.  John- 

PiOE  170,  Note  250.— Captain  Miller. 

Pagb  179,  Note  251.- King  George  the 
Third. 

Paqe  170,  Note  252.— George,  Prince 
of  Wales,  afterwards  Kegeut,  and  Kiug 
George  the  Fourth. 

Page  131),  Note  253.- This  is  a  de- 
•crip^on  of  the  contest  alluded  to  in  ths 

Kecedio^  poem.  "  Brumlanrig,"  is  tlie  in- 
mons  fourth  Duke  of  Queeiiaberry.  "Wei- 
tetha,"  is  Sit  James  Johnstone,  the  Tory 
candidate.  M'Murdo,  was  the  Duke  of 
Qneensberry's  iduunberlain  at  Dmtnkniig — 
a  IViend  of  the  poet  "  Ctaigdarroeli,"  i 
Fersusson,  of  Craigdarroch,  "  Qlentiddel. 
ia  Captam  Eiddd,  of  Glenriddej,  auathe 


Pagb  180,  Note  254.—. 


structure  and  m 


ude,  founded  m  the  rrign  ot  James  XV.  of 
itland,  about  the  end  of  the  fifteenth 
itnty,  and  which  is  still  exhibited,  though 
an  infirm    state,  in  Ednibui^h  caiite. 


Page  130,  Note  255.— 


i7.— John,  Earl  of 


Page  181,  Nora  259.— Frands  Grose, 
author  of  tiie  Autiignituia  of  Ei^laud,  Ire- 
land, and  Scotland,  and  of  several  other  pnb- 
licaroons,  some  of  which  display  considerable 
knowledge  ot  jr--'--  '    — '    —*    ' - 


linted  with  B 


Catse,  while 
niakinj  Ihe  necessary  mqniriea  for  his 
work  on  Scottish  antiquities.  He  nal  a 
boD-iiiant,  and  had  acquired  enormous 
personal  bulk.  Ca^tiin  Grose  died  at 
Uubhii,  of  an  apopletic  St,  May  12,  1791, 

Paob  IBl,  Note  g60,~flie  e5:tteino 
parish  on  the  Bontbern  frontier  of  Scotland 
is  called  Au-jbnwufen,  ot  which  Iliis  word 
M:>i<le.,kM  is  a  mrae  tranapositioa.  Kirk- 
maiden  parish  is  in  Wigtonsbire. 

Page  132,  Note  2t)l.— One  ot  the  old 
traditional  Scottish  ballads  entitled  fUr  John 
Ualmlm,  fnmished  Burna  with  the  thytb- 
mical  model  of  this  piece. 

Page  182,  Note  262. — Tills  pnem  came 
thruugh  the  hands  ot  Bankine  of  Adamhill 
to  those  of  a  geutlenmn  ot  Ayr,  who  ga?e  it 
Co  the  world  in  the  Ediufuiylt  Magazim  iar 
February  1818,  with  the  following  original 
superscription: — "'To  the  Eight  Honourable 
the  Earl  of  Breadalbuie,  President  of  the 
lUght  llouoiiralile  and  llououtable  the 
Highland  Society,  which  met  on  the  23rd  of 
iUay  last,  at  the  Shakspeare,  Coveut-Uarden, 


land  m 


o  fni! 


esi^a  of  Ave  huadted  Highiaiiders,  whtv 


.C'.oo'^le 


rOEMS  OP  BLE   S 


I   eacufe 


from 


iwful 


, ^irojiertj    the;    were,  by 

emignUng  boia  the  bnda  of  Mi.  Iil'Doiiald, 
of  Gleu(rar-J,  W  the  wildj  of  Canada,  in 
■BFch  of  Inat  (antaatic  tldnj — Liberty." 

Page  183,  Note  263  —"As  the  aiithen- 
tic  prose  history  of  the  Wiisrte  is  curious,  I 
shall  here  give  it.  In  the  train  of  Anne  of 
Demiurk,  nhen  she  atae  to  Scotland  with 
ouf  JouiM  VL,  there  came  oirer  al 
Dioiall  gentleman  of  gi|raiitio  Btatiire 

Sacchus.     He   had  a  little  ebr 


vhich,  at 


it  of  th 


he  laid  do  the  table,  end  nlioever  ms  the 
last  able  to  blow  it,  every  body  else  beioj 
disabled  by  the  potency  of  the  bottle,  was' 
to  carry  off  the  whialfe  ai  a  trophy  of 
victory.  The  Dane  produced  credentials  of 
his  victories,  without  a  sinple  defeat,  at  the 
courts  of  Copenhagen,  Stockholm,  Moacow, 
Warsaw,  and  several  of  the  petty  courts  in 
Gemiany;  and  challenged  the  Scots  Bac- 
cfaanaliaoa  to  the  dteriiatiVB  of  trying  his 

iirowea^  or  else  of  ackiioivled^og  iheur  iu- 
BTority.  After  many  ovcrciirows  on  the 
part  of  the  Scots,  the  Done  kbs  encoantered 
by  Sit  EoberC  Lanrie  of  Maswelton,  an- 
cestor of  the  present  worthy  hamnet  of  that 


nighta'  hard  coniest,  left  the  Scandinavian 

luiderthenble, 

'And  ble»  CHI  the  whistle  his  reqaiem  ahrill' 

8ir  Walter,  son  of  Sir  Robert  before  men- 

tioned, aftermiida  lost  the  whistle  to  Waller 

Biddel,  of  Gleoriddel,  who  had  married  a 

sister  of  Sir  Waltn'a.    On  Fridav  (he  IStb 

of    Octobef    171KI,    at    FriarVCorse,    the 

whistle  was  once  more  contended  for,  as 

related  in  the  halkd,  by  the  present  Sir 

of  Gleuriddel,  lineal  descendant,  and  repre- 

sentative of  Walter  Eiddel,  who  non  the 

whistle  and  in  whose  Ihmily  it  had  con- 

tinued;   and  Aleiander  Pergnsson,  Ksq.,  of 

great  Sit  liobertj    uhich  last    genllemnn 

cwTied  off  the  hard-won  honours  of  the  Held" 

—Burns.    \rhe  whistle  is   kept   at  this 

day  by  the  Sight  Honourable  R  C.  Pergns- 
Bon,  of  Cniigdarroch,  M,F.  for  the  Stewarwy 
(^  Kirkcudbright — son  of  the  victor.] 

Tne   Blieniah   Legends   supply  ns  with 

ceruiiu  cups  or  tankards  Hgure,  and  of  which 


med  at  Falmouth,  January  30lh,  1791, 


roe,  Professor  of 

of  Edinbui^h, 

PiOB    IBS, 


le  East  India 

;07.— Alexander  Moo- 
jmy  to  the  University 

268.— The    favour 


poetical  epistle,  was  the  trausktion  of  the 
poet  from  the  ^tigoing  ILxeise  division  of 
Ellisland,  to  the  less  laborious  one  of 
Dumfries,  winch  favour  is  acknowledged  ai 
haling  been  obtained,  in  these  hnea. 

Pace  16G,  Note  269.— An  allusion  ta 
the  deijine  of  the  feshioa  whidi  was  so 
prevalent  during  the  last  century  amongst 
pntlemen,  to  ^nk  to  excess,  swear,  and 
indulge  in  other  equally  delicate  aninse- 
menta,  and  in  which  the  squirearchy  so 
eminently  shone.  It  was  tbis  thshion  ahkh 
had  been  so  aevHely  satirized  by  E^elding 

Page    186,  Note   270.— The  rums  of 
IJncliiden  church,  near  Ihimfries. 
PiUE   18S,  Note  271.— Though  fonnd 

band-writing,  and  printed  as  his  in  some 
former  editions,  the  present  editor  hai 
scarcely  a  donbt  that  this  poem  is  not  by 
the  Ayrshire  bard.  It  is  much  more  lika 
the  composition  of  Feigussou,  or  Beattie. 

Paqb  188,  Note  272.- This  piece  was 
first  puhlialied  in  the  edition  of  Bntns's 
Works,  produced  by  Messrs  Chambers,  mi 
was  contributed  by  Mr.  James  Duncan,  of 
MosesSeld,  near  Glasgow,  in  whose  posses- 
sion is  the  original  manusciipt. 

Page  189,  Note  273.— When  General 
Dumouciet,  after  unparalled  victories,  left 
the  army  of  the  liench  Eenublic.  April 
1793,  and  took  refuge  from  the  mfunaled 
" •'—  ^^^h  the  enemies  he  had  Utely 


beaten, 


ipressing   joy  ii 

IS  present,  he  chanted 


Hoifdb,  Google 


PaBb  189,Notb  374— Captain  Eiddel, 

of  Glenriddel,  or    Mr.  Biddel  of  Wr 

potfc,  wlikh  is  Mot  icty  decidty 
tallied.  In  diher  cLse,  ire  tue  mCocmei 
Ihe  parlies  were  remmaled. 

Page  189,  Note  275.— The  Mai 
this  lampoon,  and  that  nhich  follow 
Mrs.  Riddel,  of  Woodlee  park,  s  la 
poetical     '  


TO  THE 

wspecting  this    elegant,    but  unfortunatB 
woman,  is  t^ven  elsewhere. 

Pabb  193,  Note  234.— On  the  death  of 
General  Stewart,  repieaeutative  of  t!ie  Stev- 
srtiy  of  Kirkcudbright,  in  Jajiaary  1795, 
Jlr.  Heron,  of  Kcrroiightree,  a  jealous  Whig, 
and  a  friend  of  Burns,  hecauie  candidate  for 


™llyon 


ni9,but    ' 


who  had  temporarily  repudiated  him  from 
her  society,  iu  consequence  of  an  act  of 
rudeness  commicied  by  him  when  elevated 
vith  liquor.  She  is  the  lady  alluded 
Dr.  Currie,  of  whom  Burns,  amongst  hi 
days  at  Brow,  asked  if  she  had  any 
nanda  for  the  other  worbl,  and  who 
the  beautiful  paper  on  his  death, 
first  appeared  in  the  Dumfriea  Journal 
was  afterwards  ttanaferred  entu:e  to  Ci 


tion  of  179B,  with  tl 
Montgomery  Stewart.  He  »as 
elected  on  that  occasion,  butunsea 


Paub  190,  Note  277.— Gillespie. 
Pass    190,   Note    278.— Colonel    Mo 
Dowal,  of  Lc^an, 

Page  191,  Note  279.— Bums  also  in- 
BCrHied  the  following;  lines  on  the  windows 
Of  *  grolto  in  Captain  Biddel's  grounds : — 
To  lUddel,  much-lamented  man. 

This  ivied  cot  was  dear ; 
Header,  dost  value  matchless  worth  t 


Paqe  194,  Note  2B5. — John  Busby,  of 
I    Tinwold  Downs. 

Page  194,  Note  286.— AJIuding  to 
Eusby's  brother,  whose  ftirtune,  as  it  was 
said,  was  founded  before  his  emigration  to 

which  the  Ayr  bank  was  concerned. 
Page  194,  Noi'B  287.— Mr.  Maxwell,  of 

Faoe  194,  Note  S88.— Mr.  Douglas,  of 
larhngwark,  gave  the  name  of  Castle 
Douglas  to  a  villa(;e  which  rose  in  his  neigh- 
bourhood, and  which  liss  since  become  a 
maiderable  and  tlniving  toon. 
Page  194,  Note  2B9,— Alluding  to  Mr. 
abn  Syme,  an  innate  frlead  of  Kohert 


Thtsi 
Paoe  191,  N 


■SO.— Mra.  Riddel,  of 

Page  191,  Note  231.— Theae  lines 
were  written  in  the  lly  leaf  of  ■  copy  of 
Thomson's  Select  Scottish  Melodies,  pie- 
fiented  to  Miss  Graham,  by  Kobert  Burns. 

Page  192,  Note  282.— On  the  night  of 


Lorimer,  her  father  being  a  firmer  at 
Kemeyss-HaU,  near  Dumfries.  Burns  seems 
to  have  formed  an  acquaintance  with  her 
during  hia  stay  at   Ellisland,   as  there  is 

house,  bearing  her  name,  and  that  of  her 

hand,  during  a  visit  she  paid  there.  She 
Bftenvards  formed  an  unfortunate  alliance 
with  a  Mr.  Whelpdale,  from  whom  she  soon 
separated.  At  the  rime  when  tlie  following 
■tansas  were  addressed  to  her,  abewaa  living 
in  retirement  at  Dumfries,  under  depression 
of  spirits,  the  consegoenee  of  her  recent 
Further  iofortnalion 


Page  194,  Note  290. — Tnyipn  is  «  term 
jplieil,  in  Scotland  to  the  various  wares 
irried  about  by  hawkers,  who,  in  the  suae 
Mviadalism,  are  called  in/i/gers, 

Taos  194,  Note  291.— The  Ear!  of 
Galloway. 

Pabk  !94,  Note  292.- Mt,  Mwray  of 


^almaghie. 
Page  194,  Note  294.- Alluding  some- 
bat  severelv,  to  Busby,  of  Tinwold, 
Page    193,   Note     295.— Burns    heia 
llndes  to  a  brother  wit,  the  Bev.  Mr.  Miur- 
end,  muiister  of  Urr,  in  Gallowaj-.     The 
it  applied  very  well,  fcr  lliiirhead  was  a 
ind.dried,  unhealthy    looking  little  man, 
sry  proud  of  hia  genealogy,  and  ambitious 
of  being  acknowledged,  on  all  occasions,  as 
"5  chief  of  tte  MaMeiuh!    He  was  not 
tposed,  however,  to  sit  dovn  with  the 
rout !   on  the  contrary,  he  replied  to  it  in 
'irulent  diatribe,  which  may  be  presented 
a   remarkable  specimen  of  dericsl  and 
poetical  irritabiliCy;  and  curious,  moreover 


Hoaoin,  Google 


POEMS  OP  BTiRrra. 


heard,    escept    the    iminottii    " 

letlet "  frem  a  tailor.    Dr.  Muirli 

^etprit  13  ill  the  shape  of  B  trBushLtioa  from 

Uardal'9  ode,  Ad  Vncei-mnh 

"Vaeerraa,  shabbj-Bon  of  whc 

Why  do  thy  palroiis  keep  the 

Thou  art  a  Bjcophaut  aod  trai 

A  liar,  and  caluniui&ior, 

Who  coaai^encB  (li^ilst  thou  that)  woutdst 

■dl, 
Nay  lava  the  eommoo  een'era  of  hell 
For  whisky.    Like  moat  precious  imp, 
lliou  art  a  gauffer,  rhjaisier,  pitop. — 

Thou  >CiU  art  poor  as  a  church  rat  1 "~ 

CUAHBBRB. 

Facb  IBS,  NoTB  296. — Burns  was  a  pri- 
™ie  in  the  Toluuteet  yoeman  eorpa  of 
Dumfries,  of  which  Colonel  Db  Pejater  was 
the  commanding  olticcr, 

Paoh  195,  NoTB  297.— A  monnment 
•boot  to  be  erected  by  Mr.  Herou,  of  Ker- 
roughtree,  in  his  own  grounda. 

Page  195,  Note  ai)8.— Allnding  to  an 
only  daughter,  who  died  iu  the  antumn  of 

1795,  and  go  iar  removed  from  his  residence, 
■1  to  render  it  imposjible  for  him  to  visit 
ber  at  the  iadt.  iShe  died,  moreover,  very 
anddenly. 

Pagb  190,  Note  299.— Tlie  Honourable 
Henry  Krakine  was  elected  Dean  of  the 
Faeully  of  Adracates  in  1786,  and  nnani- 
moo^ly  re-elected  every  year  till  1790,  wben 
it  waa  resolved  by  some  members  of  the 
Tory  party  at  the  Scottish  bar  to  oppose  his 
re-election,  in  consideration  of  his  having 

paaang;  of  th«  vdl-known  sedition  bills. 
Hr.  Erskine's  eppegrance  nt  the  Circna 
(now  the  Adelphi  Theatre)  on  that  occasion 
vnia  designated  by  those  gentlemen  (among 
whom  Hers  Charles  Hope  and  David  Boyle, 
BOW  respectively  Lord  President  and  Lord 
Jnslice-Clatke)  as  "  ^italiug  the  giddy  and 
iguor^it  multitude,  and  chenshinf  aucU 
huTQOun  and  dispositions  as  directly  tend 
to  overturn  the  laws."  Tliey  brought  fo> 
ward  Mr.  Robert  Dundas,  of  Arniston, 
D>rd  Advocate,  in  opposition  to  Mt, 
Erakine ;  and  at  the  election,  Jwuary  I2th, 

1796,  the  former  gained  the  day  by  123 
(gainst  38  votes.    The  fol' 
Burns  describe  the  keennej 


a  by 


Mr.  Dnndas  PP    b         y       d  w        y 

add  unjustly    Bum      n  gh     rcco  e 

father  of  that  gentleman  bad  been  treated 
eijhE  years  before. 

PaOe  197,  Note  800,— The  Duke  of 
Queenaberry  sliroped  his  domains  of  Dtum- 
lanrig,  in  Dumfries-shire,  and  N«dpath  in 
Feeblea-sbire.  of  all  the  wood  fit  for  being 
cut,  in  order  to  «irich  the  Countess  of 
Yarmouth,  ivhom  he  auppoaed  to  be  his 
daugbEer. 


i  197,  > 


day  being  ra 
satirical  si 


dbya 


,»)iu 


lies  might  more 
advantageously  be  eipended.  He  immedi- 
ately improvised  these  hnes. 

Paok  197,  NoTB  302,— Mr.  M-Mutdo 
resided  at  Drumlanrig,  aa  chamberlain  to  th« 
Duke  of  Queensberry.  He  and  his  wife  and 
daughters  are  allude-l  to  in  the  elecdoo  piec^ 
entitled  Second  Kpistle  to  Mr.  Graham  o( 
Fintry.  They  were  kind  and  hospitable 
friends  of  Bums,  who  celebrated  several  of 
the  youiig  ladies  in  his  aongs. 

Fade  ISa.Noi'n  303,— "Sir  Walter  Scott 
possessed  a  tumbler,  on  which  these  lines 
written  by  Bums  on  the  arriial  of  a  friend, 
Mr,  W.  Ste^iart,  factor  to  a  gentleman  of 
Nilhsdale,  The  landlidy  being  very  wrath 
at  what  she  considered  the  djilignreuient  of 
her  glass,  a  gentleman  present  appeased  her 
by  paying  down  a  shilling,  and  carried  oft  the 
relit"— Loc  kh  AR'r, 

Page  193,  Note  304. — According  to 
Bums  himself,  this  aongwaa  writteu  when 

of  a  damsel  owned  Isabella  SMven,  who 
lived  in  the  neighbourhood  of  Locidee. 

Page  198,  Noie  305.— The  old  balbd, 

McMilUm'a  Pei/g^.tis  the  model  of  thii 

song.    The  heroine  of  the  piece  was  a  yonug 

lady  educated  in  a  manner  aoniewhat  aupe- 

~ar  to  the  |)easantry  in  genera],  and  on 

bom  Buma  practised  to  display  his  tact  in 

^tivating,  until,  by  degrees,  he  fell  in  love 

earnest,  an^  then  discovered  that  the  objecC 

'  this  first  sport,  tlien  eiruest,  was  previ. 

isly  engagfi,      "It  cost    me,"  says  b^ 

some  heartaches  to  get  rid  of  the  alliiir," 

Page    198,  Note    SOS,— Accordmg  to 

Mr.  Cunningham,  this  was  tha  same  person 

SlaiOgomerii'a  Pei/gy.    But  more  accurate 


.,)glc 


H0TE3  TO  THE 


t  Aliaon,  of  Lmhtee,  i 


:j  ot  Bun 


n=lljr  ™ 


I,  Note  307.— Tbis  waa  the 
tome  Peggy  Alisoa  laeationed  in  (he  foie- 
going  now. 

Faqb  199,  Note  SOS.—An  Hdaptatinn  of 
the  Old  English  Ballad,  nhich  bss  rescued 
from  obliiioD,  obscurity,  and  bUcif  letcer  (in 
the    Pepys  Library,   Cambridge),    by  Mr. 

Page  ZOO,  Notb  309. — Anne  BIsir,  imd 
Aiiiie  Ronald,  daughters  of  firmera  in  Tar. 
balltm  pariali,  and  the  iottet  of  whom  became 
Mrs.  Paterson,  of  Aikeubrae,  haie  each  been 
ipokea  of  in  thnr  native  district  as  tlie 
heroine  of  this  song.    The  poet'a  family 


moved  to  MosagieL    Mr.  Gilbert  Bums  was 
tiie  Miss  Ronald's.    We  learn  firan  Mr. 


Cunningham 


oaC  air.  B, 

e  post  very  ranch,  ai 


of  the  {;i^[s."pral»bly  not  Ailoq — remarled 
that  "  abe  conid  na  see  ought  about  Bohert 
Burns  that  voold  lempC  her  to  (it  up  wi' 
biin  till  twal  o'clock  at  night." 

PaOk  200,  Notb  310.— Tlus  song  was 
composed  in  honour  ot  Maigaret  'rhomaou, 
who  lived  in  a  cottage  adjoiuing  the  Village 
School  of  Etrkoawkkl,  where  Bams  naa 
completing  his  education,  when  nineiecii 
years  old.  Burns  himself  gives  the  follow, 
ing    Bccour 


tlioma 


r.Niel 


and  settled  with  him  in  the  town  of  Ayr. 
"  A  diarming  fillett*,"  eaya  Buroa  in  apeaking 
a  her,  "  who  lived  next  door  to  the  schoof, 
orerset  my  trigonometry,  aiid  sent  me  oS  at 
B  tangent  ftom  the  sphere  of  my  atudiea. 

cosiuea  for  a  few  days  more ;  but  stepping 
into  the  garden  one  charming  noon  to  take 


good  at  school.     Tht 
Idid  nothing  bnt  a 


Page  201,  Nors  3ia^-ln  a  memoir  of 
Ramsay,  in  a  puliUcation  entitled  "  Lives  ot 
Eminent  Scotanien"  (3  vols.  Boys,  Loudon), 


if  Sfg  Nannie,  O,  beginning— 


For  a 


a  pity,  O. 


idsome,  channing  Nannie,  0! 
Nor  friend  nor  foe  can  tell,  O— ho, 
How  dearly  I  love  Nannie,  O I  " 
An  improved  aong  to  the  aame  air  was  written 
hyBamaay:  and  Hnally,  Bnma  wedded  the 
music  to  the  following  beautiful  effusion  of 
natural  sentiment,  the  heroine  ot  which  is 
believed  to  have  been  a  certain  Agnes  Heui- 
ing^aeri-ant  at  Calcothill,  near  Lochlee. 
Page  203,   Note  313,— "An  iinprore- 

heeu  pohited  out  that  the 


histari 


0  print  Ion 


id  upon  1 


daya  ot  Burns,  and  in  a  place  where  it  is  i 
at  all  probable  that  he  could  ever  have  si 
it-^a  comedy  entitled  Cupid's  Wldrivjig,  pi 
liahed  in  16U7.  The  passage  in  the  comi 
is  an  apostrophe  to  the  female  an,  as  i 
ide  before 


ahould  wi 
made  when  ni 


.t  admi 


ot  her  art." — Chambbbs. 

Paob  202,  Notb  311— A  quotitiou  from 
young's  "Night  Tlmughts." 

Page  203,  Note  315.— The  "Higlihind 

Mary  Campbell,  to  whom  Burns  was  at  one 
time  engaged,  and  devotedly  attaclied,  and 
whose  premainre  death,  ill  fact,  prevented  her 
becomuig  Mrs.  Bums. 

Page  204,  Note  816,— "Composed  oa 
the  amiable  aiid  excellent  timily  ot  White- 
fbord'd  leaving  Ballocbmyle,  when  Sir  John's 

Burns.    Mana  was  Miss  Whitefoord,  after- 

property  was  Claud  Aleiaiider,  Esq,,  whose 


Page  205,  Note  317.— The  origin  ot  this 
beautiful  song  was  tlie  accidental  meeting  o[ 
Miss  Wilhelmina  Aleiander,  in  the  grounds 
attached  to  the  tuansioD  of  Ballochmyle,  tiie 
property  of  her  brotlier  Mr.  Claude  Aleian- 


Page  £05,  Note  31&— I  composed  this 


Hosted  by  Google 


as  I  conveyed  ray  cheat 
t  days  for  Jamaica  (Noi 


him 

uiipubliihed  poems,  and  he  recit 

it  nitb  D  description  of  the  dreumstmic^ 

tbao  ibe  poem  itaelf.  He  bad  left  Dr.  Lau- 
rie's family,  after  a  vi^C  which  he  eipected 
^.  i.  ^»  .  1.  _  .    .1  -^  j^jg  ^^y  home,  had  to 


POEMS  OF  BTJRyS. 


Ireque' 


of  sc 


His 


nund  was  strongly  effected  by  psriMig  fc 
ever  with  a  aceiie  where  be  had  taateii  a 
mnch  ele;^ut  and  aocial  pleasure;  anddl 
pressed  by  the  contraated  gloom  of  hi 
prosiwcts,  the  aspect  of  luttare  Itannoniaed 
with  his  feehnga;  it  was       ' 

«iud  w 


Tiou'll  break  ray  heart,  thou  bonni 
That  sings  upon  the  bough; 

^ou  muids  me  o  the  liappy  days 
Wheumytauaeluvewastcue. 

-You'll  break  myh«art,  thou  houmi 
That  sing,  beside  thy  mate; 
or  sae  I  sat.  and  aae  1  san^ 

fthaelrov'dbyboDnieDoon, 
To  see  the  woodhine  twine, 

nd  ilka  bird  sang  a'  ita  larej 
And  aae  did  I  o'  mine. 

Vi'  lishtsome  heart  I  pu'd  a  rose, 
Fraeaff  its  thorny  tree: 
nd  my  fanse  Im  er  staw  the  tos^ 
But  left  the  thorn  wi'  me. 

antumu.    The 
and  whistled  through   the 


skyj 


diold  peltiiig  shower! 


mtud.    Under  tlieae  circumscaoces.  and  ii 
this  frame.  Burns  composed  this  poem. 

Page  E05,  Note  319, — This  soug-  relate 
to  an  incident  in  reel  life.  The  anforCunat 
heroine  UTis  a  beautiful  woman,  daughter  ti 
a  landed  gentleman  of  Carriek,  and  niece  t* 
■  baronet.  Her  lovec  was  a  landed  gentle- 
man of  Wigtonshire.  A  mother  witbaiit  the 
sanction  of  matrimony,  and  deserted  by  her 
lover,  she  died  of  a  broken  heart.  On  the 
Bni>3eqnent  death  of  her  brother,  her  youngJr 
lister  inherited  the  family  property,  but  not 
without  opposition  from  an  anenpected 
Duatter.  T'he  seducer  and  deserter  of  [he 
deceased  lady  now  appeared  in  a  court  of 
Jaw,  to  endeavour  to  establish  the  fact  of  a 
secret  marria^re  with  her,  so  as  to  CTititle  him 
to  succeed  Co  her  brother's  estiffl,  as  the 
fuher  and  hat  of  her  deceased  clidJ,  whose 
claim,  of  course,  would  have  been  preferable 
to  that  of  the  younger  sister,  if  his  legitimccy 
Sould  have  been  proved.  In  this  attempt, 
the  seducer,  it  is  gratifying  to  add,  was  not 


PaOb  203,  Note  330.— "I  composed  these 
anzas  standing  under  the  Ms  of  Aberfeldy, 
:  or  near  Moness,  in  Per Cbshire." — Burns. 
his  vvas  in  the  eonise  of  his  Highland  Ei- 
irsion,  in  the  month  of  September,  1787. 

PiOB  205,  Note  331. — James  Man- 
iietaon  was  a  noted  Uif(bland  freebooter, 
I  personal  strength,  oud  at 


cellent    petforn 


After 


ndea  of  Aberdeen,  Banff, 
nd  .Uoroy  in  fear  for  some  years,  he  was 
eiied  by  DuS,  of  Braca,  anceatoc  of  the 
:arl  of  Fife,  and  tried  before  the  sheriff  of 
Ban&hire  (Koveniber  7,  I'OUj,  along  with 


vho  had  b 


nbia 
la  lay  under 


Tlia  1 


wingi 


13  the  o: 


nal  VI 


parture  from  Ayrshire,  and  afteri 


Ye  flowery  hi 


laed  by  a  Mr.  Miller, 


"  I've  spent  my  time  in  rioting, 

Bebaui^ed  my  health  and  strength  ; 
T  squandered  fast  as  pillage  came. 
And  fell  to  shame  at  length. 

Butdmitonlyandwrnitonly. 
And  rantonly  I'll  gae: 

When  brought  to  the  place  of  eiecution,  on 
the  Gallo»-hill  of  Banff  (Nov.  16),  he  playfd 
the  tuue  on  his  violin,  and  then  asked  if  any 
friend  was  present  who  would  accept  the 
instrument  as  a  gitl  at  his  hands.  No  (me 
coming  forward,  be  indignantly  broke  the 
"    ■  ind  threw  away  the  frag- 


liich  he  euhmitled  u 


(E  bloom  sae  fair  1 


e  iuslilied  by 
rvcd  in  Duff 


Hosted  by  Google 


NOTES  TO  THE 


great  length  and  weight — fis  well  ss  b;  his 

SBd  were  allowed  by  all  who  fiAw  them  to  oe 

ITie  veraea  of  Buma— juatly  "<-Oed  by 
Sir.  lockhart,  "  a  grand  lyric," — were  de- 
signed as  an  improvement  on  those  of  the 
fteebnoter.  presefvi: 


t   the   0 


1  Hum 


1  love 


editii 


ended 


by  Messrs.  Ho§;g  and  Motherwell  (GUsgov, 
1B34),  the  reader  wiU  And  ampler  information 
tta  the  subject  of  MaepherHm  and  his  "  Rant." 
Page  £07,  Notb  322^-'rhe  individual 
bete  meant  is  William,  (burth  Viscount  of 
Strsthallan,  who  fell  on  the  msurgent  side  at 
the  battle  of  Cullodeo,  Apri^  1746.  Burns, 
probably  ienomat  of  this  his  real  fate,  da- 

and  taken  refuge  from  the  fury  of  the  govem- 
meiit  forces  in  a  Highland  fostness. 
Page   207,  Nora   323.— Tliese   verses 


img  giri 


a  Mis! 


ChariotteUamil 
James  M'iJiltick  Adair,  Esq.,  physician. 
She  is  sister  of  my  worthy  friend,  Qaiin 
Hamilton,  of  Maueliline,  and  vaa  bom  on 
the  banks  of  Ayr,  but  was,  at  the  lime  I 
VTote  these  hues,  residing  at  Uurieston,  in 
Clactmaiinanshirc,  on  the  romantic  banks  of 
the  Uttle  river  Deton.^ — Burns,  tt  was  iu 
the  course  of  a  short  tour  in  company  with  Dr. 
Adair,  August  1787,  tliat  the  poet  aav  , 
^isa  Hdmilnou,  at  llarvuiaton.  Introducing 
bia  telbv-tiavdler  to  the  family,  he  was  tlu 
means  of  bringing  about  an  union,  from 
which,  says  Adsir,  in  1800,  "I  have  derived, 
Bnd  cipect further (    '    '  


Highland  genth 
Miss  Jeaiiie  Gordon,  daughter  to 
of  Knociihaspock  in  Aberdeenshire,      i  no 
lEuly  was  married  to  her  cousm,  Habichis 
Qordon,  a  son  of  the  laird  of  Bbymie ;  and 

her,  and  shaken  her  hand,  her  husband  drew 
his  sword  in  anger,  and  lopped  ofF  several  of 
Lunisdale's  fingers — which  Highland  Harry 
took  BO  ranch  to  heart,  that  he  soon  after 
died.— See  Hogg  and  Motherwell's  edition  of 
Butus,  II.,  197. 

Paqe  208,  Note  837.— "I  composed 
these  verses,"  says  Burns,  "  out  of  compli- 
ment to  a  Mrs.  iMcLuctiliui,  whose  husband 
«aa  an  oBicer  in  the  Eait  Indies." 

PiOE  203,  Note  328.— "I  composed 
tliese  versea  while  I  stud  at  Ochtertyre  with 
Sir  Willlma  Murray  (father  of  Sir  George 
Murray.ls-    -       '       ' "" 


lady,  1 


chtertyre 


-kuown  toast,  Mias 
Euphemia  Murray,  of  Lintroae,  who  waa 
called,  and  very  justly,  the  flown'  o/ 
S(ra(*niore."— Bdbwb.  This  visit  to  Ochtec 
tyre    took   place  in  the  month  of   Junti 


Paok  209,  NoTB    J 


-"This    s 


ng," 


Paob 


.^Tbia  I 


Chal- 


accomplished  of  women.  Mi 
men  (that  was),  now  Mrs.  uewia  nay,  ui 
Forbes  and  Co.'s  bnnk,  Edinburgh." — 
BuENS.  Miss  Chalmers  was  first  met  hy 
Burns  in  a  trip  through  Claekmannaushire, 
ia  1787.  It  was  then  that  he  visited  Har- 
Viestou  in  the  month  of  August. 

Page  208,  Note  325, — "I  cnraposed 
these  verses,"  says  Buriu, "  on  Miss  Isabella 
McLeod,  of  Ramsay.  sJIuding  to  her  feelings 


were    also    addressed  the    chatiuing    lines 
which  begin  :— 

"  Beiuteous  rosebud  young  and  gay," 
and  which  were  written  by  Burns  in  the 
lly-leaf  of  a  hook  presented  hy  him  to  her, 
""  '    young  lady,  who  was  then  only  twelve 
ohi,  afterwards  became  the  wifb  of  Mr. 


e  death 


th  (1788)  of  her  sister's 
le  late  Earl  of  Loudon,  who  shot 
t  of  sheer  heartbreak  at  some 
IDS  he  suffered,  owuig  to  the  de- 


e  gable  of   t 


picked  up  from  an  ol 
the  rest  of  the  song 
is  evident  that  the  i 
diotua  iu  a  Jacobite 


upon  the  green  behind  the  ( 
House.    Here  Burns  Uy  while  coiinnen  witn 
a  bruised  hmb  in  the  winter  of  1787-8.  Mr. 
Crnickshank  died,  March  8,  1795. 

Page  209,  Note  330.— In  imitation  of  a 
song  of  which 
:    Charles  H.,  was 


Hosted  by  Google 


POEMS  OF  BURyS. 


em 


ne  danghter  ot  my  frienil  Allan 


rk  (Johnaon's  Scots  Musical  Must 
FRHa.    Mis9  Miutetlou  afienvBiJI 
■s.  DwbiBhira. 
pACfE  ail.  Note  333.— "TIib  fl 


YBS  ptohaiily 
Kich  occurs  i 
.  printed  in  Ho^ 

served  by  Mr.  Petet  Buclian,  wKo  fiirthci 
communicates  that  the  ballad  was  composed 
in  1686,  hy  Alexander  Ifisley.  of  EdiiibutKh, 
on  Doteran  side,  frrandfather  to  tiie  cr'" 
brated  Archbishop  Sharpe ; — 

"  Yell  bring  me  here  a  pint  of  wiae, 
That  I  may  drink,  before  I  pii^, 

The  fact  of  Burns  pilcbiTig  upon  this  < 
fine  slausa  of  an  old  ballad,  as  a  foundati 
for  a  new  song,  shon^  expreseiTelj'  the  apt 
aense   he  bad  of  all  that  vas  beautifnl  in 
poetry,  and  how  reBdy  his  imagination  was 
to  lake  ttiog  upon  the  slightest  command. 

PiOE  21 1,  Note  333.— lliese  lines,  ahicli 
wen  found  amongst  the  papers  of  Mrs. 
MoLebose,  were  evidently  addressed  to  her, 

'    "    ■    '    "  -   le  betireen  the 


BoBNa.  That  half  ataozB 
Bame  with  the  following,  i 
the  close  of  a  honie\y  hailEu 
tad  Motherwe 


I  pht  deepeiieii  he  appeared  to  grow  '  very 

dered  out  nito  the  barn  yard  to  which  his 
uife  mheranvtety  followed  bim  entreating 
bim  \a  \  am  to  ob>cn  b  that  frost  had  set  in. 
ami  to  return  to  the  hreiide.  On  bung  ngaia 
anci  again  cequestad  to  do  so,  he  promise! 


d  his  Clnri 


thousand  lovetale3."—SiB  Walter  Scon 

Page  211,  Notb  B34.— The  tune  of  thi 

Bong  was  composed  by  ManhaU,  who  fbr 

many  jeara  served  in  tbe  capacity  of  batter 


Oswald's;  tlie so 


Page  213,  Note  337.—"  This  celebrated 
lem  was  eompoaedby  Burns,  in  September 
89,  on  the  anniversary  of  the  day  on  which 
:  heard  of  the  death  of  liis  early  love,  Mary 
irapbell.  According  to  Mrs.  Burns,  he 
eut  that  day,  though  labouring  ander  cold, 
the  usual  work  of  the  harvest,  and  appa- 
itly  in  eieellent  spirits.    But,  aa  the  twi- 


plating  the  sky,  whici  was  singularly  cles 
and  starry.  At  last  Mrs.  Burns  found  hii 
stretched  on  a  mass  of  straw,  with  his  eye 
fixed  on  a  beautiful  planet,  'that  ahojie  hk 
another  moou,'  and  prav^ied  on  him  to  com 

called  for  his  desk,  and  wrote  esactly  as  tlie. 
now  stand,  with  all  the  ease  of  one  copyio; 

Paqb  213, Note  388.- "Icomposedtbi 


Robert  Riddel,  Esq..  of  Qlenriddcl,  and  bia 
lady.  At  thrir  flrcMde  1  have  enjoyed  laata 
pleasant  etenings  tlian  at  all  the  honses  ctf 
fashionable  people  in  this  country  put  troa. 
ther."— BuKNS.  Priara'  Carso,  cloaely  adja- 
cent to  EUisland,  on  the  bank  of  the  Nith, 
was  tlie  residence  of  this  couple.  Mr.  Riddel 
died  April,  179K 

Paqe    213,   Note    339.— "This  ait   k 
■■'■  '-  '      -  ■  -      Theoccasi 


r.  Willi. 


n  Nico 


of  the 


to 

the  Duke  of  Gordon,  and  to  whose  genius 

and  I  agreed,  ea:h  in  our  own  way,  that  wa 

u«  indebted  for  some  of  tlie  most  eiqui- 

should   celebrate    the   hnsiness."- Burns. 

of  Scottish  airs.    Of  the  word.  Bums 

"This    meeting,"    aays  Currie,  writing  in 

f 

1199,  "took  place  at  Laggan,  a  farm  par- 
chased  byMr.Nicol  iumhsdale.  on  tha 

Bu 

OS.    N.B.— It  was  the  honey-moon." 

of  real  genius,"  Nicol,  who  died  April 

'97,  vas  a  man  of  coarse  natme  and 

violent  passions. 

Paoe  214,  Note  340.— Composed  on 

iss  Jean  Jeffrey,  daughter  of  the  minister 

of  Lochmaben.    Burns,  spending  an  evening 

pleased  with  the  young  lady,  who  did  the 

ast,  ho  presented  her  with  the  song. 


Ho,t,db,  Google 


NOTES   TO  THE 


Paoe  21S,  Note  341.— This  is  an 
tation  of  Ihe  Englisl.  ballad  of  Sit  Robrat 
Ayton,  who  was  secralaiy  to  the  Oueen 
Consurl;  of  Jamea  I.  (of  England).    Ti\e  old 
baliiidmiia  tbusi- 
Bldoconfeis  thou'tt  aweet;  yet  find 

llieii  such  an  unChrift  of  thy  sneela. 
Thy  favoan  are  but  like  the  viiod. 

That  fcisseth  every  tiling  it  meets ; 
Jtnd  since  thou  canstnlth  more  than  one 
Tlioii'rt  Hotlhy  to  be  kissed  by  none. 


But  plucked  aud  strained  through   rudt 
handi, 
Her  scent  no  longer  with  her  dwells. 
Bat  Bceiit  and  beauty  boEli  are  goue, 
And  leaves  full  from  lier  one  by  one. 
Sneh  fiite,  ere  long,  will  thee  heUde, 

Wiien  thon  host  handled  been  awhile! 
like  auu-flowera  to  be  thrown  aside, 

while  some  will  smile ! 


So  see  thy  loie  (or  m 


Has  brought  tli 

Page  217,  Note  343— This  song  is  sup- 
posed to  be  one  of  those  which  Bums  ouly 
improved  from  old  versions.  William  Oor- 
dou,  sitth  Viicannt  Eeiimnre,  raised  a 
body  of  troopi  for  the  Pretender  ia  1715, 
and  bad  the  ehief  command  of  the  insni^eiit 
forces,  in  the  aouth  of  Scotland.  Taken  at 
Preston,  he  was  tried,  and  condemned  tu  be 
beheailed,  whicli  sentence  was  executed  on 
the  24th  February,  1716.  His  forfeited 
estate  was  bought  bad:  by  tiis  widow,  aud 
transmitted  to  their  son.  By  the  son  of 
that  eon— now  Viscount  Keumure,  in 
eonsequenee  of  Ibe  restoration  of  the  title — 

his  romantic  aeat  of  Keumure  Castle,  near 
Mew  Galloway. 

Pacjk  218,  Note  343.- "The  original 
title  of  this  soug  was  '  Fait  Habina : '  ttie 
lieroine  was  a  young  lady  to  whom  one  of 
the  poet's  friends  was  attached,  and  Bnnia 

Johnson,  the  proprietor  of  the  Museum, 
disliked  the  name,  and  dearing  to  We  one 
mote  Buitaljlq  tor  sin^tig.  the  poet,  unwill- 
ingly, ehangedit  to  Eliza." — Odnningham. 
Paqe  218,  Note  344.— Mr.  Cunningham 
states  that  die  heroine  of  this  song  was 
the  nife  of  a  fonuer  near  EUislaiid,  and 
fives  the  following  amnsing  account  of 
her ; — "  She  was  a  very  singular  woman  r 

ouly  fit  for  babes  ;  eartheoware  was  a  pick, 
pocket;    wooden  floors  were  bat   fit    for 


thrashing  upon;  slated  rooft,  eolfl ;  feathers, 
good  enough  for  fowls ;  in  short,  she  ah- 
horted    change;    aud   whenever    anythii^ 


I    ebange ;    aud 

ippeared,  such  a 

teetH,  ■Ay,ay,'she  woi 


,'jellse 


all  modem  things,  she  disliked  china 
ne  most ;  she  called  it  '  burut  clay,'  and 
aid  it  was  only  fit  fur  'handing  the  broo  o' 
linking  weeds,'  as  she  called  tea.  On  one 
iccasion,  a  southern  dealer  in  cups  and 
aucers,  asked  so  much  for  his  ware,  that  he 
laaperaled  »  peasant,  who  said,  '  I  canna 
lurchase,  hut  I  ken  ane  that  will !  gang 
here,'  said  he,  poinlmg  to  the  house  iM 
TiUie's  wife;  dinna  be  bUte  or  burd- 
louthed  i  ask  a  gude  penny — she  baa  the 
iller.'  Away  went  the  poor  dealer,  spread 
ut  bis  vares  before  her,  and  summed  up  all 
■y  asking  a  double  price.  A  blow  from  her 
rummack  was  his  instant  reward,   which 


only  fell 


ts  jingle,  'to  eo 


heard  the  sa 

brazent  English 

day  to  me  I '      She  was  an  unlovely  dame — 

her  dangblers,  however,  were  beaiitituL" 

Page  219,  Note  345.— "  Lookins  over, 
with  a  musical  friend.  U'Dooald's  OoQectian 
of  Highland  Airs,  1  was  struek  with  one,  an 
Isle  of  Skye  tune,  entitled  Oniii  mt  Aoig.  or 
the  Sung  of  Death,  to  the  measure  of  whidl 

""  Baalop.  Deceabern,  1791,  at  which 
time  the  song  had  just  been  finished, 
Paob  K19,  Note  346. — Composed  in 
inonr  of  Mra,  Stewart  of  Stair,  whose  pa- 
rnal  property  was  situated  on  the  hanks  of 
e  Afton,  an  Ayrshire  tributary  of  the  Nith, 
'ar  New  Cumnock.     Mrs.  Stewart  was  one 

ndcd  any  triendiliip  to  Burns, 

Page  230,  Note  347,— In  the  edition  of 

e  Poems  of  Buius  published  by  Hogg  and 

Motherwell,  there  is  a  curious  note  attached 

which  all  the  parallel  songs. 


fact,  tliey  had,  many  of  th 


Page  220,  Note  343,— This  song 
inded  up  to  the  chairman,  extemporised 

Eiuse  oHicers,  at  Dumfries,  when 
poet  waa  called  upon  for  a  song. 

Pack  221,  Note    349.— According 
r,  Cunningham,  the  heroine  of  ^' ' 
IS  Miss  Januette  Miller,  daugbti 
iller,  of  Dalswinton,  a  young  lady  of  vt  , 
__traordinary    beauty,   who,    subsequently, 
married  lin  1795)  Mr.  John  Thomas  Erskiuo 


erof  Mr. 


Hosted  by  Google 


the  jooneer,  of  Marr  (ainee  13th  Eai 
JlBrr). 

Pack  221,  Note  350.— This  song  is  . 
posed  to  ejyress  the  love  and  admirstion  of 
Mr,  Oairald,  of  Anehioctuive,  for  Miss  Lucj 
JiilinstODO — afterwards  Mrs.  Oswald,  aud  who 
died  of  dectiae,  at  Lisbon,  in  1T9S. 


Paoe£ 


'I  Muai 


JBIuaei 


Cunniiigliom  pronounces  it  net  orisinal.  I 
cannot,  however,  truce  any  ballad,  either 
anioiigat  the  early  English,  or  early  Scottish 
Poesy,  which  will  anstainMr.  Cunniiigliam's 
judgment;  and,  moreover,  there  are  sulBoeiit 
grounds  fiir  identifying  ita  absolate  origi- 
nality, the  rhythm  only  being  adopted. 

Page  224,  Note  352.— "IIib  occasion  of 
this  ballad  was  as  follows :— When  Mr. 
Cuniiiaghame,  of  Entetkin,  came  to  bii 
estate,  two  niansion-bouseB  on  it,  Enlorlin 
and  Anbank,  were  both  in  ■  rninoua  state. 
Wishing  to  introduce  himaelf  wiih  aome 
^clat  to  tlie  county,  he  got  temporary  ereo 
tioos  made  ou  the  banks  of  Ayr.  tastefully 
decor&ted  with  shrubs  and  fiowera,  for  a  sup- 
per and  hull,  to  which,  moat  of  the  respectable 
families  in  the  county  were  invited.  It  was 
B  novelty,  and  attracted  much  uotice.  A 
dissolution  of  parliament  was  soon  eipecte4 
and  this  festivity  was  thought  to  be  an 


s  for 


reprea 


the  county.  Several  other  candijatea  were 
spoken  of,  particulnrly  Sir  John  Whitefoord, 
then  residing  at  Cloncurf,  commonly  pro- 
nounced Glencuid,  Bud  Mr.  Bosnell,  the 
well-known  biogrqiher  of  Dr.  Johnson. 
The  political  viewa  of  this  festive  assembbMie, 
which  are  aUuded  to  in  the  ballad,  if  they 

Mr.    Ciinninghame    did    not    canvass  'the 

COUnty."-^ILBEBI  BUKNS. 

Page  225,  Notb  S33.— There  is  an  old 
■uperati^n,  that,    out    of  tlie    slough  of 

adders,  are  formed  the  pretty  -  -  ' >- 

blea,      


,  of  la 
I   polished,  for  monut 


Pasb  225,    Note    S54. — According  to 

e  family  tnudition,  this  song  was  compoaeil 

honour  of  Hrs.  lliddel  of  VYoodlee  Park. 

Pabe  238,  NoTii  355.— Miss  lesley  Bail- 

!  was  certainly  worthy  of  the  delicate  and 

uaif  eulogy  of  thla  poem.     She  was  the 

daughter  of  a  landed  proprietor  in  Ayrshire, 

and,  subsequently,  married  Mr.  Gumming,  of 

Logie.     The  occasion  of  the  meeting,  which 

furnished  the  impulse  to  this  composition, 

was  that  ou  which,  in  179%  Mr.  and  Miss 


mied  t 


a  tor  i 


itb  tile  worth  as  well  as  the  beauty  of  his 
fair  fettow-traveller, 

Paqs  228,  Note  358.— "In  my  very 
early  years,"  aays  Burns,  "when  I  was 
thiidiiug  of  going  to  the  West  Indies,  I  took 
tliis  arewell  of  a  dear  prl  (Mary  Campbell), 
whom,  although  I  did  koI  leave  tlie  country. 

Pass  227,  Note  357.— Tlie  castle  here 
alluded  to  was  that  of  Coilsfield,  near  Tar- 
bolton,  the  seat  of  Colonel  Hugh  Mont- 
gomery, who  was  ultiina.[ely  twelfth  EaA  of 
Bglinton.  The  heroine  of  the  verses  was 
Mary  Campbell,  who  lived  in  that  house  as 
a  dary-wonian,  but  now  resides  with  poetical 
immortality.  Burns,  after  a  long  court- 
ship, and  having  agreed  that  they  should  ha 
married,  met  her  on  the  bauhs  of  the  Ayr, 
to  Uve  one  day  of  parting  love,  in  Miticipa. 
tion  of  a  visit  alio  was  to  pay  to  her  re- 
lations at  CanijibelEown  in  Argylesbire. 
Mary  died  at  Greenock  on  her  return,  and 
thus  left  a  bhink  in  the  poet's  atteclwas 
which  nothing  thereafter  filled  up. 

Page  22B,  Note  358.— Tliis  song,  which 
is  the  version  cimtributed  to  Thomson's 
Beleetioo,  and  Ubich  elicited  such  merited 
admiration  from  that  eleguut  compiler,  was 
a  rescript  of  a  former  aoiig  contributed  by 
Burna  to  Johnson's  Musical  Museum.    Ths 


Ba.tr,  braw  lads  of  Oulu  IVater ; 

Oh,  braw  lads  of  Gala  Water ; 
I'll  kilt  my  coats  aboon  my  knee. 

And  tolIoT  my  love  thro'  the  waKr. 
Bae  (air  her  hair,  sue  hreut  her  brow, 

Sae  boniiie  blue  her  een,  my  deuria; 

THui  mm  I  kiss  ^'es  aye  my  dearie. 
O'er  yon  bank,  and  e'er  yon  brae. 

O'er  yon  moss  amang  tlie  heather; 
I'll  ki'f  my  coals  aboon  my  knee. 

And  follow  my  love  ttro'  the  water. 
Down  amang  the  broom,  tlie  broom, 

Down  uuang  the  broom,  my  dearie. 
The  lassie  lost  her  silken  suosd, 

Tbut  cost  her  mony  a  blu't  and  hlearhv 


PaQH 


ya  Burns, 


Hosted  by  Google 


BOTES  TO  THE 


liDC9  nere  composed  in  honour  of  one  of  the 
Cur  daugliCecs  of  n  neighbour's  house  nt 
Mauchline.  "OTaUtha  producCioua  of 
Burns,  the  pathetjc  and  senoua  lore  songs 
which  he  lias  left  behind  him  in  the  manner 
of  old  baUads,  are  perhaps  those  which  taka 


Paoe   229,  NOTB  360.— "BnmB,  I  have 
been  informed,  nos  one  Bummer  etening  at 

friends,  when  a  poor  way^rom  soldier  passed 
tbe  vinduiv;  of  a  endden,  it  strudi  the 
poet  to  isll  him  io,  and  get  tbe  stoty  of  his 
adventures ;  after  listening  to  wliicb,  he  all 
rC  onee  fell  into  one  of  those  fits  of  abstrac- 
tion not  unnsuiil  «ith  him.  He  was  lifted  to 
his  'gatlaud  and 


in  honour  of  the  eldest  daughter  of  Mr. 
John  McMurdo,  of  Drnmlanrig — Miss  Jean 
fttcMurdo,  whose  eiquieile  beauty  of  face 
and  symmetry  of  figure,  were  remuliabla 
eren  in  a  family  uniformly  handsome. 

Paqe  232,  Note  86t— "You  wiU  re- 
member an  unfortunate  part  of  oor  worthy 
friend  Cunningham's  story,  which  happened 


ITiat 


was  the  admir 


■f!"^Z 


,  and  I  endeavoured  to  do  the  i 
eas  tbllows,"— BuBMS  to  G.  Tiioa- 
Amjaat,  1793.      Mr.  Alesnnder  Cuu- 

if  polished  aud  agreeable  manirers,  and 
admitted  into  a  class  of  society  considerably 
his  own.  The  story  of  his  unbithAiI 
:3s,  which  IS  here  alluded  to,  ma'ls  a 
noise  at  the  time,  and  has  been  kept 
aemhrance  by  Bnms's  song, 
BE  23a,  NoTS  365,~.Philli3  the  Pur 
IS  Phillis  McHurdo,  daughter  of  Mr. 
John  McMurdo,  of  Drumhmrig.  more 
delicately  lovely,  though  not  so  commaud- 
"igly  heautifnl  as  her   elder  sister    Jean. 


ve  been  the  spot  where  thepoel 

e  rencontre  of  tiie  soldier  aud  his  imsuress 

have  taken  place. 

Paoe  230,  NoTS  301.— "Tbe  air  of  Ztsas 

■BBS  is  oW,  and  there  are  several  olil  songs 

r.  John   Majne,  who  atterivnrds  beciima 
■      a  poem  entitled  the  Siller  Gits, 


.    Hon 


.  ently    1 
I    Lockhart,    of     Can 


rried    I 


'alh.      Tbe 


rery  ogra 


0  the  above 


heard  that 


vm  it,  which  he  adn 

'While  my  dear  lad  maun  lace  his  fhes. 
Par,  fer  frae  me  and  Logan  braes.' 
Ir,  Mayna  lived  to  a  good  old  age.  and 
led.  March  Hth,  1S3G,  at  liasoa  Gtove, 
ear  London." — Thomson. 

Paqe  230,  KoiB  3fi2.— Thii  Bong  was  . 
Titten  espressly  foe  Mr.  Thomson's  Collec. 


0  Stat  were 


las,  for  the 


.    .  - !ordsot 

ballad.  Bums  was  struck  with  the  wi 
beauty  of  the  air,  and  with  the  imperfectii 
of  the  closing  part  of  the  verses,  aud  »u 
pUed  a  remoil^led  version,  such  as  it  is  i 
tbe  teit 
Pake  a 


old    i 


of  her  music  master  (Bums's  triendi  Stephen 
Clarke,  who  requested  the  poet  to  supply 
him  with  an  adequate  copy  of  verses  to 
celebrate  her. 
Pasb  232,   Note  366,— Bcnieddi  is  > 

upn^rds  of  3000  feet,  and  which  b  situated 
to  the  westward  of  Slrathallan. 

Paoe    233,   Note    387.— An   improye- 


being  the  Laird  of  Cherrytree's  daughter, 
with  whom  he  became  acquainted  in  a 
rather  imccremonions  manner  when  skulking 
during  the  days  of  "the  Persecution."  Tills 
remarkable  patriarch,  though  first  indncted 
into  his  charge  in  the  time  of  the  Common- 
wealth, was  u  yigorous  preacher  down  to  the 
days  oif  dueen  Anne. 

Pabb  233,  Note  363.— "Tlie  old  air, 
'Hey,  tuttia  taitie,' with  Fraser's  liaulboy, 
has  often  filled  my  eyes  aitli  tears     liiera 


I  traditi< 


h  I  iiiv 


with  II 


.  Note   SB3.— This  sonj 
"Jean."    It  was  really  w 


s  of  Scotland,  that  it  was  BoberC 
amrch  at  the  battle  of  Bannockbnni. 
jught  in  my  solitary  wanderm^ 

f  liberty  and  independence,  which  I 
threw  into  a  kind  of  Scottish  ode,  fitted  to 
the  air,  that  one  might  suppose  to  be  the 
gallant  Royal  Scat's  address  to  his  heroia 


Ho,t,db,  Google 


a  in  1793,  on  Cl 
boseil  deporcur 
e  WeiC  Lidiea 


anch  noTila  in  s  collection  i 
where,  which  I  altered  and  ei 

CleUB  you,  mid  to  suit  your 
ate  token  a  stride  ot  two  a 


SON,  Ocloba,  1734. 

Pahk  237,  Mors  S71.— This  sons  was 
composed  in  honour  of  the  heautiful  Jliss 
Jean  Lnrimer.  ofterwaids  )!r9.  Whelpdale. 
ITie  pcoasion  of  the  composition  *as  imme- 
diately on  reacliing  home,  ivfter  baring  met 


rOEJIS  OF  BURNS. 

Bp(sjn6er  1793. 1  That  falsehood  e'er 
-According  to  I  To  lake  the  floWret  to  n 
OTS,  this  aong  ,      And  find  the  guilefu' i 


■arty 


PiQB  337,  Nock  373.— ITii 

and  even  the  opening  lines  have  been  re- 
tained. Tlie  air,  bowerer.  had  never  before 
been  coupled  with  it,  and 


d  by  1< 


[I  the  aoiig  other 
^s  for  Thomaon'i 
.las  coupled  wltl 
uriis's  favourite  tone  of  Dainty  Daoie, 
PiOE  239,  NoTH  273.— 'l"he  suppositioi 
at  this  iong  vim  elicited  as  a  kind  of  peni 
ntial  address  to  Mrs,  Kiddcl,  of  Woodlo 
affront  offered  ti 


s  wrfl  founded.    The  ] 


Conhl  I  hope  thon'dst  ne'er  ilectnve. 
Celestial  pleasures,  might  1  choose  'tok, 
slight,  nor  seek  in  other  spheres 
ThU  boiien  I'd  find  vitbiu  my  bosom. 
Slay  my  WiHie— yet  beheys  me, 

P(^[,  ttb!  thou  knows't  ua'  every  pang 
Wai  aring  my  boaom  sbouldat  thon 

Faob  239,  Note  374.- The  following 
paasat-o,  «bich  conveys  a  very  analogous 
iiicn,  occurs  in  Wycherley's  Comedy  of  Tht 
Plain  Deakr  :— 


Your 


oake  the 


which  you  bend  every  way,  »ii 
the  stamp  he  beara." 

Page  240,  Notb  375,— ^Composed  on  a 
passion  which  a  He.  Gillespie,  a  particulm 
friend  of  muie,  bad  for  a  iliss  Locimer, 
afterwards  Mrs.  Whclpdale,  The  young  lady 
was  bum  at  Cnt-iebum  Wood"  (near 
Holfatl.— BuKJia.  ilrs.  Whelpdale  at  B 
future  date  became  the  lieroine  Cblocis, 
under  which  appclktiou  she  is  the  subject  of 
many  songs  by  Surna.  It  is  piuufiil  to  add, 
that  this  beautiful  woman  eventually  sank 
iuCo  the  lowcat  state  of  female  degradation, 
and  died  in  misery  at  Alauchline  a  few  yean 
ago.— Chaubbks. 

PiOR   240,   Note   378.— "  Craigiebum 

MofibC,  and  about  three  miles  distant  from 
the  village  of  that  name,  celebrated  for  ita 
mediciDBl  waters,  llle  wooila  of  Cragiebnm 
and  of  Dumctieff,  were  at  one  time  favourite 
haunts  of  01 


le  lint 


Bong  in  no  »ay  concerned  Burns  personally, 

he  conceived  sei'eral  of  bis  beautiful  lyrics." 

it  was  writicn  for  a  friend  as  an  epostrophe 

-Cdkbie. 

to  an  offended  mistress,  and  the  reply  was 

PiOE  241,  Note  377.— This  song  wa* 
composed  on  the  same  occasion,  and  sug- 

also by  the  hand  of  Burns,  mho  was  thus 

gested  by  the  same  incident,  as  tllat  to  which 

reply  runs  tUus:- 

the  song.  Hud  S  a  Cam,  i^   also   attribu- 

"  Stay,  my  Willie— yet  believe  me, 

Stay,  my  Willie-yet  believe  me. 

mutual  friend  of  Burns  and  Thomson.    The 

For,  ah !  thou  know'st  na'  every  pang, 

date  of  this  song  is  1795. 

Paoe  242,  Note  378.— In  the  original 

Wad  wring  my  bosuin  shouldsE  thou 

leareme 

TeU  me  thai  thou  yet  art  true. 

BalislMk  to  my  black  cousin  Bess."    Mr. 

And  a'  my  wrongs  shall  be  forgiren, 

Thomson  objected  to  this  word,  as  well  as  to 

And  when  this  heart  proves  fause  to  thee, 

the  word  Daigarnock.  in  the    iieit  verse. 

Yon  Bua  shaU  cease  its  course  in  heaven. 

fiobart  Burns  replied  ai  follows  -— 

Ho,t,db,  Google 


"  Gateslaot  Is  the  name  of 

K"  ce,  a  kiail  of   paasaa;e  up 
v/iher  hilts,  on  the  confines  of 
Dalj-oniacli  ia  also  the  name  ol 

church  and  t  biirid-grDund,     I 

the  first  run   !If  up  tie  lang  foai 

"It  ia  alivays  apitjtothrofl  t 


poaed,  nccordiu^  ti 


NOTES  TO  THE 
particular 


]Mft,-1 


neiu.  aa  nil  letter  to  Dr.  Mwre.  He 
uya  elsewhere — "  For  my  own  port.  I  never 
had  the  ka^C  iiicliiiDtion  of  tnrumg  poet,  till 
I  once  got  heartily  in  love,  and  then  rhyma 
and  Eon^  were  in  a  manner  the  spontaneDua 
language  of  my  heart.  This  cDnipositiou 
was  tiie  lirst  nf  my  performancca,  and  done 
■c  an  early  period  of  life,  when  my  heart 
flnit^d  with  honest  irarm  eimplieity,  un- 


I'icked  V 


Tld.    ■ 


with  tl 


mind  tluise  happy  days  wlien  my  heart  «a> 
yet  honest,  and  my  toagne  was  sincere." 

Paob  •Hi,  NoiE  aai.— Thia  lutohic- 
^aphical  son?,  ai  it  may  be  called,  i>  nnder- 
itood  to  hiive  heen  composed  daring  the 


beaaySj  "miserably  deficient  iu  verification ; 
but  as  thi  aejitiments  are  the  gCDniae 
feelings  oC  my  heart,  I  hivo  a  partionlar 
pleasure  in  coimins  it  over." — Chambeks. 

Fags  245,  Note  332. — It  has  been  said 
that  [here  was  some  foundation  in  fact  for 
this  tale  oi  a  gossip — a  wayfilriiig  woman, 

birth,  haling  actually  annoRnced  some  soeh 
prophecies  respecting  Che  inl^nt  placed  iu 
her  arms.  Some  similar  drcumaiauces  at- 
tended the  birth  of  Mirsheau. 

Paqh  245.  NotE  383. — It  may  he  grati- 
fying to  ciiriosiCy  tu.  knov  the  btes  of  the 
six  belles  of  Maucliline.   Miss  Helen  Miller, 

Burns'a  friend,  Dr.  Mackeniie.  The  divine 
Miss  MarklsTid  was  married  lo  a  Mr.  Fmlay, 


Smith  was  aftenranHa  Mrs.  Candhsh.  Miss 
Betty  (Miller)  became  Mrs.  Tempteton,  and 
MiM  Morton  married  a  Mr.  Paterson.  Of 
Armour's    history  immortuhty    has    taken 

The  fffoijow  Iltratd  of  Saturday,  Septem- 
ber 8th,  1851,  has  the  follo«in?  notice  of  the 
death  of  the  last  of  the  Miachlme  Sella, 
"Died  on  Saturday,  the  30th  ult.  [Angnst 
18B1],  Mrs.  Flndlay,  relict  of  Robert  Kndlay, 
Esq.,  of  the  Eicise.  In  ord  nary  circum- 
stances, the  departure  from  this  life  of  a 
rMpecPilile  lady,  ripe  in  years,  would  not 
have  horded  matter  of  Keneral  interest ;  but 
It  hl^pens  that  the  decer^sed  waa  one  of  tin 
very  tet  persons  surviving  to  our  own  times, 
who  intimately  knew  the  iJca^anl  bard  in  the 
Hrst  fiush  of  his  genius  and  manhood,  and  by 
whom  her  name  and  charms  have  heen  wedrled 
to  immortal  verse.  She  was  the  "divine" 
Miss  Markland.  noticed  in  the  "  Belles  ot 
Ilfauchlinc."  Miss  Markland  became  the 
wife  of  Mr.  Mndlay,  omcer  of  Excise,  of  Tar- 
bolton,  a  genllemen  who  was  appointed  lo 


et  tlie  I 


.rdiuthen 


sofgair 


The  connection  thua  formed  between  Buna 
and  Fiudhiy,  led  to  the  introduction  of  the 
Mler  to  Miss  Markland,  and  his  snbseriiient 
marriage  to  her  in  September  of  the  same 
year  (17831.  Mrs.  Findlay  n-as  in  her  33rd 
vear  at  the  time  of  her  marriage,  and  in  her 
83th  at  the  time  of  her  death." 

PiOE  245,  NoTB  384, — Jean  Armonr, 
afterwards  Mrs,  Robert  Bums  who,  ai  ia 
vieii  known,  anrviied  the  poet. 

Paoe  Slo,  NoTB  885.— This  little  frag. 

nientary  ghmpae  which  the  poet  one  day 
obtained  of  a  beautiful  young  femala,  who 
rode  up  to  an  inn  at  Ayr,  as  the  poet  waa 
munntiiig  bia  horse  to  leave  it. 

Pahe  216,  Nora  833,— Kiffie,  a  familiar 
appellation  amongst  the  country  people  fbf 
K'lamraoek.  Tliia  song  waa  composed  in 
allusion  to  ».  meeting  of  the  Kilmarnock 
Mason  Lodi^,  which  took  place  ui  178ti,  and 
at  which  WiUiam  Parker,  one  of  the  poef » 
oldest  friends  presided,  and  which  Burns 
himself  attended.    The  song  was  an    im- 

P.IOE  248,  NuTB  387  (iiiaprniiedSm.— 
The  air  of  SoAnie  Dundee  appears  in  the 
Skene  MS.,  of  data  eircc  1620.    The  tune 


period 

aath 

rei 

a  son 

to  it  am 

ngat  tho 

which 

«nby 

the  Eng 

isjlod 

parage 

the 

Scottish   followers 

by   who 

James 

VI.  w 

tended 

rival  in  t 

south. 

The 

firs 

of  th 

fbllowin 

g  verses 

Ho,t,db,  Google 


POESIS  OF   BCRNS. 
in  old  Ikomefy  Altiy,  th«  aecood  oi 
FaoE  S49,  Note 


jmeljr  ve 


lament  tot  the  ruin  which  followed  the  n 
betliou  of  tbe  "forty-five."    Bums  hoard 
dug  in  one  of  his  northern  eicursions,  and 
begK^  s  IranscripCioa." — Cdnninoiiau, 

Paob  2S1,  Note  389.— Written  at  the 
COmmeDcemeiit  of  his  residence  nt  Ellialand, 
to  expresi  the  bnojunt  feelings  which  ani- 
mated  him  on  that  occuioa,  wheu,  aa  he 
hiDisdf  infonna  ua,  he  fnjoyed  a  fevr  days, 
tbe  moat  tranquil,  if  not  the  happiest,  he  had 
ever  eipetiencaL 

P»OB  255,  Note  390.— This  hallad  is,  as 

election  at  Dumfries,  ui  which  Burns  took  m 
active  a  part  as  hs  well  could  on  the  tory  side : 
—to  wit, in  the  election  of  1790,  In  the  "Five, 
Carliiiea,"  »s  well  a*  iu  the  "  Second  Epistle 
to  Mr,  Graham  of  fintry ;"  the  poet  appeared 
to  reserve  a  neutral  poaiCion,  merely  altetch- 
ing  theeve  "  '        ■  -    -    ■ 


certaiidy  hecame  more  dewdedly  /nco4i«  than 
Jacoi/ite.  There  vere  some  passing  stupid 
verses  in  the  ^pers,  atlacliing  and  defending 
hia  satire  ou  a  certain  pteaeher  wliom  he 
termed  an  anco  calf.  In  one  of  them  occurred 


I^diea 
ailndes 
the  Duke  of  Queenaberry,  owing  to   his 


eovemmeut 


tis  depend 


icy  upon 


,  E  should  obaeria 

re  in  his  political  writings.  Buma^a 
geniua  had  moreover  aeqiiiied  (or  him  friends 
amongst  men  of  all  parties,  mauy  of  ivhoni  in 
the  heat  of  n  political  couteat,  might  havs 
felt  ag^rieveil  at  any  ancalled  for  violence  on 
his  part.  The  secret  Jscob\tish  yeacnings  of 
Burns  naturally  impaled  him  to  the  aide  of 
Sir  James  Johnstone,  thetory  and  Pittite  candi- 
date, whUst  heiiTg  the  tenant  of  Mr.  Miller, 
father  of  the  whig  or  opposition  candidate,  to 
whom  he  was  indebted  for  much  persouel 
kindness,  he  could  not  well  signalise  himself 
by  any  very  decided  exertion  Hgaiust  Mr. 
Miller  the  yonnger.  In  this  ballad  "the 
Laddies  of  the  Bmka  of  Nith,"  he  doea  not 
retain  auch  very  decided  neutrality,  tod 
pretty  dearly  allows  his  tory  predilections  to 

the  toryism  of  Bums  was  merely  a  tndition- 
iry  love  for  the  native  Scotch  nice  of  princes, 
mud  a  dcEcshLtion  for  the  uaurT>iiLg  dynasty 
(as  he  thought)  of  Bmnsnicit ;  for  in  abstract 
political  priiinples,  it  may  easily  be  gathered 
from  hia  writings  that  be  had  a  far  greater 
leaning  towards  Jaaibimam,  than  towards  the 
e^loded  prininple  of  the  dinbieright  of  Mug!. 
Sir  Waiter  Scott,  writing  to  Mr.  Loi^hatt, 
with  ao  etielosure  of  a  whole  parcel  of  letters 


i  fancy  his  Jacobitism,  like  mine,  belonged  tt 


bourhood.  — The  Duke  of  Qiteeiiaberry  figurea 
in  no  enviable  light,  eitlier  politically  or 
privately.— A.  life  spent  in  mere  selhsh  grati.< 
fication  and  proQigacy,  and  a  political  career 
stamped  with  his  protest  of  Decemher  26tb, 
irSB,  on  the  Regency  question,  ate  very 


56,  NoTB  391.— Captain  Gtose 

leliah  the  point  of  this  epigram, 
impromptu  of  one  of  tbe  drinking 
ni'htly  carousals  of  these 
Paqb  2j8,  Noie  39: 
the  excessive  corpnlera 

Vaob  S56,  NoTB  393.— "Stopping  at» 

but^h,  one  day  pnt  Elphinatone's  translation 
of  Martial  into  my  hand,  and  desired  my 


;ing  prft 
id  fellows 

ncy  of  Captain  G 


heroic    poMn, 

Trapp's  trausloi 
lys;- 
Read  the  commandrat 

no  further; 
'or  there  'lis  written, 


.titled  the  KaigK  by 
I'bo,  in  allusion  to  Dr.  J. 
of  the  Georgica  of  Virgil, 


Shalt  d 


PiQB  256,  NoTE-394.— The  Miss  Burns 
who  was  the  subject  of  these  lines,  was  a 
young  English  woman,  set^ed  in  Bdiitbui|fa 
—as  remarkable  for  the  laxity  of  her  de- 
)ur,  as  for  the  eiquisite  beauty  of  het 
I.    She  figured  iu  the  le^s  rigid  society 

engraved  and  published  by  Mr.  John  Kay. 
^"  —13  on  one  of  these  eDgravinga  that 


Ho,t,db,  Google 


NOTES  TO  THE   POEIIS  OF  BURNS. 
t    the    lines    abich 


iBgeii. 


1  £57,  Note  393.— These  lines  wei 
(  to  a  question  put  to  the  poet 
etore  Mias  Dttvies  <a  particular  fi 
of  Bnras's)  should  hiiye  been  ma. 
untive,  and  anotliei  iiiAy  nemed,  i 


.._.,   NoTB  39S.— Tha  casm 

which  soggestal  tiiese  hues,  was  the  recei 
otiiitelligence  that  the  Aiisltians  had  be 
totfdl;  routed  at  Gsnuppea,  by  Genei 
Dumourier  (1792.) 

Paoe  2B7,  Note  397.— Boras,  eccomf 
a  friend,  having  goue  to  Inverary 


)oipanj  w. 


._.  .    .  ukeof  At^yle,  flndi^,, 

himself  and  his  companion  entirely  neglected 
by  the  iuDkeeper,  whose    whole 
seemed  to  be  occupied  with  the 


assumed 


Send  1 


J   tell  y 


Pabb  S38,  Note  401.— When  tho  Board 
of  Eicise  infiinned  Btirns  that  his  business 
was  to  aet,  and  not  to  think  and  speak,  he 
read  the  order  to  a  friend,  turned  the  paper, 
and  wrote  what  he  called  Tie  Creed  ^ 
PoMf ty — CuNM  m  aHAB. 


Page  258,  Notk  402.— "These  iii 
dressed  to  John  I'aytot,  hlacksm 
anlockhead,  on   beui);  indebted  ti 


:,fot  a 


B,  NoTB  403.— Bun 


npon  for  a  song  at  a  dmnei  of  the  Uumfriei 
Volunteers,  io  hononr  of  Eodney'a  victory 
of  the  12th  of  April,  1783.  He  replied  to 
the  cdl  by  pronouiidu^  Che  following. 

Pass  259,  Note  404.— lliis  was  at  tha 
King's  Arms  Inn,  Dnmfries,  and  was  su]^;e^ 
ted  by  hearing  some  person  speak  in  terms 
of  reproach  of  the  officers  of  hia  Msjesty'i 

Page  25D,  Notb  40S. — This  lady,  in  her 
early  days,  was  an  intimate  friend  of  .Mrs. 
Burns,  and  also  a  great  favourite  with  the 
poet,  who  esteemed  her  sprightly  and  affee- 


,  brought  in  a  long 
Btticntacs  of  a   me- 


visiting.    As 

Mr.  Brown 

was  haitding  the 

sheet  to  Miss  Lewars,Bu 

ns  seiied  it.  and 

wrote  upon  it 

these  verses  with  red  chalk : 

after  which  he 

handed  it 

to  Miss  Lewars, 

saying  that  i 

was  now  lit  to  ha  presented 

loalady.    U 

SI  Levara  afterwards  married 

Mr.  James  Th 

mson,  of  D 

nmfriea. 

Page    259 

Note    41 

8.— WhiU   Miss 

aitmg  npon 

him  in  his  sick 

xiet  took  u 

pa  crystal  goblet 

containing  wuie  and  water 

and  after  writiia 

verses,  in  the  chatactec  of  a 

n™l,  present 

ditto  her. 

Page  259, 

Notb  407 

-At  ibis  time  of 

trouble,  on  Misa    Lewat 

compl^ning  of 

he  said,  to 

provide  for  the 

wot^t,   he  wo 

id   write   h 

er  epitaph.      He 

accordingly  uiMribed  tUes 

lin^  ot  another 

goblet,  saying 

"That  wiU 

tother™sl." 

Page  260,  Note  40S.— Quotation  from 

Page  250,  Note  409.— James  Humphry, 
Pads  260,  Note  410.— Mr.  John  Wdson, 
rinter,  of  Kilmarnock,  by  whom  the  first 
ilition  of  Butns's  Poems  was  produced. 
PahI!  261,  Note  m.—iMiapriMed  409). 
The  fiither  of  Dr.  Bichardaon,  who  accom- 
panied     Prankhn'a      eEpeditiou. — Ceau- 


Ho,t,db,  Google 


pj\\a  k  il)t  €mmfmlatt  nf  Inria. 


Page  263,  Note  1— Mr  J 


humbL«  I 


te  have  slready 
had  occasiOK  to  remark  tliat  the  poet  au 
the  first  of  his  AdiiIt  to  abbreviate  tlie 
name  of  Buraeas  to  Bums.  The  graodsoD 
of  Jamea  Sumess.  of  Montrose,  »as  the 
Lieutenant  Bumeaa  of  our  o«n  time,  the 
author  of  Iraoela  in  Bokbam, 

Paob  370,  NoTB  2.— Mr,    John  Eich. 
a  of  the  earheal  ftienda  of 


t  Maucl 


He 


barked  in  Uie  alud;  of  the  law,  and  vaa 
preparing  for  that  profeaaion  at  EdinbnTgb. 

Pahe  271,  Note  3,— Mauthline  Corse  is 
the  name  of  the  Market  Cross,  in  the  centre 
of  the  village  or  towiu 

Page  272,  Note  4.  According  to 
Motherwell,  the  piece  to  which  Bums  alluiles 
in  thia  letter  was  that  eiiCkled  the  JUoKnloin 
Dosi;;,  or  as  it  was  called  iu  the  oi'iginal 
taaniiscript,  Tlie  Goacaa, 

Page  272,  Note  5.— Mr.  David  Brice 
Has  a  shoemaker  at  Glae^w,  and  an  eariy 
■BHiciate  of  the  poet. 

Page  272,  NoiE  6.— Alluding  to  Miss 
Jeau  Armour'a  retnm  from  Paisley,  to  irtiich 


«bjh. 


of  the  reach  of  hec  to 

that  her  own  feelhigs  t 
acLually  been  diatorted  b' 
her  friends.    Thia  was,  to 


'deut  lover-    Bums 
towards    him    had 


in  the  foregoing  pot^n  of  tb 


contained  ia  this  letter  strongly  betray  the 

euKering,  oving  to  the  forced   aeparation 
betnceu  himself  and  Jean  ArTOOur. 

Page  27S,  Note  8,— An  Elusion  to  the 

by  Mr.  Aiken,  and  the  other  fnends  of  the 

oSice  iu  the  Eicise. 

Paoe  278,  Note  9.— Miss  Aleiander, 
the  sister  of  Mr.  Claude  Alexander,  wlio  had 
recently  pnrchased  the  estate  of  Balloeh- 


Page  877,  Note  11,— The  designai 
^plied  to  old  bachelors. 
Paoe  277,  Note  12.— Without  a  pre 


P^QE 

277,  Note 

13.-Lady 

Betty  Cun-. 

n^ham 

Page 

27 

,NOTB 

14.— This 

paper  was. 

by 

the   au 

lor   ol    m  Mm    <>f. 

■eU«s, 

Mr 

Mackenzie. 

Page 

279,  Not 

e    15.— On 

of    thOM- 

ary 

eiamplea  with  whie 

h  the  Uvelj. 

ot 

niiuK.      He. 

have  re 

collect 

ons 

of  his  c 

arly  yeaca  » 

Ih  peculiar 

Ho,t,db,  Google 


fiI4  KOTES 

to  »hich  thia  letter  was  «  lep'y,  laji  as 
ftiUows  :— 

"  Clifford  Street.  Jana^m/  2nrd,  1787. 

"  Sitt— I  bin  just  receivei  your  letter,  by 
which  I  find  I  bave  reaaou  to  oomplaiii  uf 
mj  frieud  Mrs.  Dunlop,  for  tnnsniittins:  to 
yoa  eitraots  from  myletteta  to  her,  by  much 

your  petuaal.     I  muat  forgive  her,  however, 

you  will  forgive  me,  I  hope,  for  the  freedom 
I  uae  with  cerlain  eipresiiom,  in  con- 
sideration uf  my  sdmiration  of  the  poems  in 
(»nera1.  If  I  may  judge  of  the  author's 
Sispoaitiou  from  liia  works,  with  all  the 
other  good  qiudities  of  a  poet,  he  haa  not 
the  irrit»ble  temper  aacribed  to  that  race  of 
men  by  one  of  their  own  number,  wliom  you 
have  tlw  ti^piness  to  reaemble  in  fue  and 
curiouB  felicity  of  eipressiou.  Indeed,  the 
poetical  beauties,  however  original  and 
-brilliant,  and  laviahly  scattered,  are  not  all  I 
admire  in  your  works;  the  love  of  your 
native  country,  that  feeling  aensibili'y  to  all 
the    objects    of   humanity,  and  the   iude- 


effeot  of  whir 


luld  have  been  my  seeing 
me  auinor,  lasi  summer,  when  t  waa  longer 
in  Scotland  than  I  have  bean  for  many  years. 
"  I  rejoice  very  ainoetely  at  the  eneonr^e- 
ment  you  receive  at  Edinburgh,  ami  I  think 
jou  peeuharly  fortunate  in  the  patronage  of 
Dr.  Blair,  who,  I  em  ioformeil,  intereats 
himself  very  much  for  you.  I  bi^  to  be  re- 
membered to  him;  nobody  can  have  a 
iranner  regard  tor  tliat  gentleman  than  I 
have,  which,  independent  of  the  worth  of 
hia  character,  would  be  kept  alive  by  the 
memory  of  our  common  friend,  tha  lute  Mr. 

"  Before  I  received  your  letter,  I  aent,  en- 
closed ia  a  letter  to  ^— ,  a  Boiinat  by  Miss 
Wilhams,  B  young  poetical  lady,  which  slie 
wrote  on  reading  your  Maimtain  Dsisj ; 
perhaps  it  may  not  displease  you ; — 
'•While  soon  "  the  garden's  flaunlmg  flowers" 

And  scatter'd  on  the  earth  nwlected  lie, 
The'Mountain-Daiay,'cherish'd  by  the  ray 

A  puet  drew  from  heaven,  shall  never  die. 
Ab,  like  that  lonely  flower  the  poet  rose  1 

'Mil!  penury's  bare  soil  and  bitter  gale ; 


Nor  ever  knew  th 


sheller  rf  the  vale. 


of  ai 


ie  fort 


Then  through  the  d 

Indignant,  and  in  light  unborrowed  biased. 
Scncia !  from  rude  afRicdon  shield  thy  bard ; 
His  heaven-tanghl  nombera  rame  herself 
wiU  guard,' 

"  I  have  been  trying  to  add  to  the  niimb» 
of  your  subscribers,  but  find  many  of  my 
acquaiiitaiice  are  already  among  ihem.      I 

I  am,  your  ohedieut  humble  servant, 

J.  MoortH." 
Page  282,  Notb  17.— Subjoineil  ia  Di, 
Moore'a  reply  to  thia  letter,  which  ia  add 
to  throw  additional  light  on  the  subject  :- 
"  Clifford  Street,  Feb.  23th,  17S7. 
"DTiAnSm— Yonr  letter  ofthe  15th  gave 
me  a  great  deal  of  pleasure.    It  ia  not  aur. 

taste,  considering  where  yon.  have  been  for 
some  time  past.  And  I  dare  swear  there  is 
no  danger  of  your  admittin;;  any  polish 
which  might;  weaken  the  «gonr  of  your 


I  added 


the  11 


a  poet,  at 


who  have  the  greatest  share  of  sclf.coneeit, 
and  which  only  adda  undeceiving  faliehooii 
to  disgusting  vanity.  Fur  you  to  deny  the 
merit  ofyourpoema,  would  ha  arraigning  the 
fixed  opinion  of  the  public. 

"As  the  new  edition  of  my  Vteio  of 
Sodeli/  is  not  yet  ready,  I  have  aent  you 
the  former  edition,  which  I  beg  yuu  will 
accept  as  a  small  mark  al  my  esteem.  It  jg 
sent  by  aea  to  the  care  of  Mr.  Creech ;  and 
along  with  tliese  font  volumes  fbr  youraelf, 
1  have  also  aent  my  Medletd  Sketches  in, 
one  volume,  for  my  friend  Mrs.  Duiilop,  of 
Duulop ;  this  yon  will  be  so  obliging  as  to 
transiniC,  or,  if  yon  chance  to  pass  anon  by 
Dunlop,  to  give  to  her. 

"  I  ttni  happy  to  hear  that  your  subscrip. 

piece  of  good  fortune  that  brfalls  you.    Pii 

and  this  is  ■  higher  compliment  than  perhaps 
you  are  aware  of.  It  incladea  almoai  all  the 
professions,  and,  of  course,  ia  a  proof  that 
your  writings  ate  adapted  to  various  taates 


4  Latin 


e,for 


Hosted  by  Google 


Bcotluid 


corkespo>t}e:^ce  of  bokns, 

,    tlian  any  you  have  aa 
tanje  the  plan  h 


L  life  for  recDllectiau,  i 

rily,  your  obedient  servsut,  J.  Moobb." 
Paob  232,  NoTB  18.— Mr,  WilHai 
Duubar  was  writer  to  <he  Signet,  in  Edin 
burgh,  and  «ea  the  person  celebrated  iu  til 
song,  Ratliing  Roarin 


and  Roman  al 


lie  best  Eniil 
e  more  of  hint 


Page  2 


—Dr.   ! 


:eeV  auciiors. 


aome  at  the  moat  brilliant  laets,  which  must 
lii^hty  delight  a  luetical  mind.  You  should 
alao,  and  very  soon  may,  become  maater  of 
tlie  heathen  mythology,  Co  which  then  aie 

■   "'       ...-7-  '^  j|]  (),j  poets,  and 

inglyftnoful    What 


studied  with  n 


Pagb  288,  Note  2D,— Subjoin.  .  ..  _ 
Moote'i  reply  to  this  letter ; — 

-aiford  Street,  May  23rd,  1787. 
"DeAb  Sib— I  had  the  pleaaura  of  yonr 
Mter  by  Ur.  Creech,  and  boou  after  he  sent 
'  ■  a  of  your  poems.    You 


is,  the  history 


,iris  of  Henry  A 
rell  you  have  a 
nowledse   by  a 


W^s  reign.  1  know  v 
liud  capable  of  attain 
shorter    process  than 


expect  more  tban  one  copy,  irhatevei  they 
subscrihed ;  I  must  inforia  yon,  however, 
that  1  took  twelve  copies  for  those  sub- 
scribers, for  whose  money  you  were  so 
accurate  as  to  seud  me  a  receipt,  and  Lord 
Eg;lincon  toM  me  he  had  sent  for  six  copies 
for  hiioaelf,  as  he  wished  to  give  five  of  them 

"  Some  of  the  poems  you  have  added  In 


do  write  for  having  postponed 
of  this,  however,  that  I  si 
happy  toliear  from  yon,    I  tl 


be  assured 


myfrie, 


larly  the  '  Will   _ 
Edinburgh,'  'Gret 


:  Night,'  t 


imcdiMely  folloiring— the 
latter  of  which  is  exquiMta.  By  the  way, 
I  imagine  you  have  a  peculiar  talent  for  stich 
eomposittona  nhich  yon  ooght  to  indulge. 
No  Ifiud  of  poetry  demands  more  delicacy 
or  hiijber  polishing.  Horace  is  more  ad- 
mired on  account  of  his  Odes  than  all  his 
other  wrifjngs.  But  nothing  now  added  is 
equal  to  your  '  Vision '  and  '  Cotter's  Satur- 
day Night.'  In  these  are  united  fine  ima- 
gery, Datura!  and  pathetic  description,  with 
Bublimity  of  langua"e  and  thonjjlit.  It  is 
evident  that  yon  already  posaesa  a  great 
variety  of  expression  and  command  of  the 
Euglieh  language ;  you  ought  therefore  to 
deal  more  sparingly  for  the  future  in  the 
provincial  dialect, — VVhy  should  you,  by  using 
that,  hmit  the  number  of  your  admirers  to 


cript  by  you,  of  a  satirical  and 
nature  (ni  which,  by  the  way.  I 
very  strong),  which  your  prudent 
friends  prei'ailed  on  you  to  omit,  partieu- 
'    '  ailed 'Somebody's  Confession;' 

entrust  me  with  a  sight  of  any 

ind  will  be  obliged  to  you  fors 

stand  von  uilend  to  take  a  hno. 


less  of  husbandry  yoni 
this,  I  hope,  will  not  preven 
*onal  addresses  to  the  n 


mic^  to  poetry ;  and  1  si' 


le  of  whom 
ay  biggin.' 
I  world  that 


ly  power  to  visit  Scotland 
Ki  I  do,  I'll  endeavour  to 
I  heartily  wish  to_  see  and 


]  unders 
you  can  extend  it  \ 


ind  the 
i  all  perso 


opiuiou,  you  should  p] 


>  this  place,  I  maki 
ig  me  a  visit,  and  jo 
cordial  welcome  fro 
<r  Sir,  your  friend 


obejleu 
J.  MOOBE." 


Hosted  by  Google 


NOTES  TO  THE 


Fade  2S8,  Note  g].— Throt 


:  alludes 


places  of  interest,  and  full  of  the  tiuditioDa 
of  the  Border  conteata  of  eariy  Scottiah 

PiGE  287,  NoiB  23,— An  engraving 
eieciited  bj  Benga,  from  NaBm;lh'a  por- 
triii  of  Bobfit  Burns,  and  which  all  persons 
admitted  to  be  even  a  more  faitMul  likeness 
than  Ihe  picture,  Blthough  thai  possessed 

',  NOTK  24.— Snbjoined  is  Dr. 
S*  Jl%41'(,1787. 


Blait'a  replj  tt 
"Argjfls  Squ 

"De  r  S  b 
noon  »    h  J 
eether  m  h  an   i 


way  in  ahicb  lit 
trorld,  than   in 


ured  tl 
b  ng  lettter,  lo- 
p  n  your  portrait, 
n  y  m  best  thanks, 
h  m  with  1  do  not 
ni  nU :  and  if  I 
h    d  ui   outributing  to 

mry  persons  who  are  ad- 


merit  from  obscurity.  I  was  the  first  person 
vho  brought  out  to  the  Inowledee  of  the 
world  the  poems  of  Ossian ;  first,  by  the 
'Fragments  of   anuent    Poetry,'  which    1 

C'llished,  and  afterwards,  by  my  setting  on 
t  the  undertaking  for  collecting  and 
publishing  the  '  Works  of  Ossian ;  '  and  i 
have  always  considered  this  as  B  meritorious 
action  of  my  life. 

"Your  situation,  as  you  say,  was  indeed 


reproach  to 


BKre  private  walk  of  life ;  and  1  trust  will 
conduct  yourself  there  with  industry,  pru- 
dence, and  houonr.  You  hive  laid  the 
(ouudatiou  for  just  pahlic  esteem.  )u  the 
midst  of  tiiose  employments  which  your 
situation  will  reuder  proper,  you  wUl  not,  I 
hope,  neglect  to  promote  that  esteem,  by 

ench  productions  of  it  as  may  raise  your 


0  improve  and  matur* 
a  poet,  will 


glare  of  notice  and  applause  *hidi  here 
shone  upon  you.    No  man  can  be  a  good 

pher.  He  must  ky  his  eceount,  that  auy 
one,  who  eiposes  him  to  public  observation, 
will  occasionally  meet  witli  the  attacks  of 
illiberal  censure.  whu:h  it  is  always  best  to 
overlook  and  despise.    He  win  be  inclined 

from  public  view.  He  will  not  afCccI  to 
shine  always,  that  he  may  at  proper  seasons 
come  forth  with  more  advantejre  and  energy. 
He  will  not  think  himscir  neglected  if  he  be 
not  always  pmiscd.  I  Iiave  taken  the 
liberty,  you  see,  of  an  old  roan  to  give  ad- 
vice and  make  reGccticns,  which  your  own 
good    senae  will,  1  dare  say,  render  un- 


liller'a  fam 


rtily  wi 


le  of  Mr. 


be  made  you  there  m 
auaded  you  will  not  easily  Bnd  a  more 
generous  and  better-hearted  proprietor  to 
Uve  under  tlian  Mr.  Miller.  When  yon 
return,  if  you  come  this  way,  I  will  be  happy 
to  see  you,  and  to  know  concerning  your 
future  plans  of  Ufe.    You 


d  of  this  month,  n 


hereaHudea 


pAaE2S7,N0TE25.. 
to  an  eitempore  address,  ahich  be  wrote  ofl 
hand  to  Mr.  Creech,  of  which  the  opcj  j 
words  are  Atld  Clawkie  Reel  ea  iK 
dislreal,  and  which  will  be  found  an  ongst  tl 
poems  in  the  foregoing  part  of  th  s  volume 

Faqe  287,  Note  26. — This  patron  wa 


nan),  in  the  capacity  of  tutor  and 
^0  his  lordship,  it  was  by  Lord 
la  we  have  already  observed,  t 
Kaa  iutroduced  to  Creech, 


Ho,t,db,  Google 


COERESPONDENCE  OF  BUESS. 


Paoe  297,  NoiB  27.— Biitoa  here  anndea 
to  bis  friend  uid  coirespondenC,  for  w)iom 
he  penned  some  of  his  best  songs,  namely, 

the'  SmW'  Musical  Muimm. 

Pagb  298,  NOTB  28.— Mr.  Peter  Hill, 
■fterwarda  in  buainesB  for  himself  aa  a  book- 
Kller,  *nd  honoaied  b;  the  poefs  corres- 
pondence. Geared  witli  Mr.  Creech,  he  was 
!„  k;,  , ,.,,.  .„  Mr.  Conatahle.    He 

wonderful 
Cedd«s  by  the 


,  Note   S9.— 'Hi 


died  at 

beast  had  been  m 


tradition  assigns  the  credit  of  having  cast 
the  first  stool  at  the  dean's  head  in  St. 
Giles's  chnrch.  July  23,  1H37,  when  the 
liturgy  imposed  on  Scotland  by  Charles  I. 

Paoe  288,  Note  30.— Auchiertyra  was 
the  seat  of  Sir  WilUam  Murmy,  Bart.,  situ- 
*ted  in  a  picturesque  and  tomautic  dUtnct, 
k  few  miles  from  Crieff.  The  son  and  sne- 
eeasor  of  the  then  proprietor,  namely.  Sir 
George  Murray,  waa  subsequently  a  mem- 
ber of  Pitt's  aduiiuistralion,  aa  Secretary  for 
the  Colonies, 

Paqb  288,  Note  SI,— This  was  Auch- 
tertyre,  near  Stirling,  on  the  banks  of  the 
I'eith.  Mr.  Bamscy  was  not  only  an  accom- 
|ihshed  scholar,  and  remarkable  for  his 
dislin^islied  elassicel  attamuienta  and  re- 
fined taste ;  but  was  possessed  with  a  warm 

;ruthful  imagery  and 


untry. 


polished  hlerature  of  hi: 

PiQH  289,  NoTB  32.— Mr.  Cruikehank, 
of  the  High  School,  Edinburgh,  ar.d  the 
hther  of  Uie  ^r  Miss  Cmikshank  wLom 
Bums  has  so  delicately  celebrated  in  his 
song  of  the  Rotebud. 

Paok  290,  Note  33.— Mr.  Ainslie  was 
educBled  to  the  profession  of  the  law,  and 
subsequently  became  a  writer  to  the  Signet, 
in  Edinburgh.  He  survived  the  poet  nearly 
halt  a  century,  »nd  died  at  Eilinhui^h.  on 
the  11th  of  April  1833,  at  the  ailvanced  age 
of  seventy-two  years.  At  the  time  in 
question,  be  was  barely  over  twenty.  He 
luid  accompanied  Burns  on  his  poetical  ex- 
cursion   tlu'ongb    the  aoutbero  or    border 

Paqe'   291,     NoTB    34.— Mr.    Andrew 
Bruce,  of  the  North  Bridge,  Edinburgh. 
Paqb  291,  Note  35,— Hush,  tlie  ndgh- 


by  the  poi 
of  Ike  Jlfuon. 
Paqe  291,  Note  37. 


arrogate,  and  survived  the 
le  song  entitled  the  Bankt 


Paob  292,  Note  38,— Mr.  Walker 
employed  by  the  Duke  of  Athole,  at 
seat  of  Blair  Athole,  in  the  capacity  of  ti 
to  his  grace's  chddreo.  It  was  at  I 
Athole  that  Bums  had 


become  acquanted  v 


.,  only  a 


days  before  the  date  of  this  letter,  that  is,  ui 
the  month  of  S^tember,  1787,  in  the  course 
of  one  of  his  Highlaud  CKCUrsions. 

Paub  29%  Noi'B  39,— The  poet  here 
alludes  to  the  hues  entitled  the  Addreii  of 
Branr  IVMer  to  the  Duke  of  Athole.  It  will 
be  remembered  that  in  a  previous  alliisi 


origuially  bare  and  uv 


ras  the  first   who  suggested  to  the  Dako 

lortiua  of  bis  estate  iu  ornamental  grounds 
-a  suggestion    which  the  Duka    quietly 

Paoe  292,  Note  40.- The  Duchess  of 


■liicU 


sev-ei'ally,  the  lady  CbarlotUi  Murray,  thea 
only  twelve  years  of  age,  and  subsequently 
married  to  Sir  John  Meusiea,  of  Castio 
Menziea ;  Lady  Amelia  Murray,  then  seven 
years  of  age,  and  subsequently  married  to 
the  Lord 'Viaeount  Strachallan;  and  lastly, 
Indy  Elizabeth  Murray,  then  only  five 
months  old  <aa  infiml  m  arms),  and  since 

Paqb  292,  Notb  41.— The  valley  of 
Stratliapey  luia  given  its  name  to  the  danang 
tunes  in  quick  time,  so  popular  in  Scotland, 
and  especially  in  the  Highlands,  and  which 
derived   their   origin   remotely   from   this 

PiQE  293,  Note  42.— Stonehaven,  some- 
times nUo  called  Sconehive,  by  the  people  of 
the  country. 

Paqb   293,  Note    43.T-The    yoangest 

of  Finglaud.  She  married,  December  9* 
1788,  Lewis  Hay,  Esq.,  of  the  banking  firm 
of  Sic  William  Forbes,  James  Hunter,  and 


Hosted  by  Google 


PaOb  393,  Note  44— The  lecond  num 
ba  of  the  Seals  Must  id  Alasea  i  ediKi 
■Dd  publiehed  by  Jolinson 

Paqb293,Noie1j— ITiesesonica  wliicl 
Burai  enthusiastically  admired,  were  lh< 
works  of  the  Rer.  John  '•k  n  er  the  epis- 
topilisn  ofSciatiog  uaniatet  U  LongsiJe, 
near  Peterhead. 

Paqb  as-l.  Note  46. — Hoy  ins  Uhrarian 
to  the  Duke  of  Gordon  for  forty-aix  year 
aotecedeat  t^  his  death  jji  1823.  He  was 
(imple,  pure-hearted  Dilin,  of  the  Domini 
Batopaou  genus,  »nd  had  attracted  the  regard 
of  Bums  during  the  short  stay  of  the  poet 
■C  Goi^lon  Castle. 

Paqb  a9i,  Note  47. — Aleisnder,  fourth 
Duke  of  Gordon,  who  entertsiued  Barn 
Gordon  Caatle,  possessed  considerahte  a 
ties  for  Bon^  writjci^.  though  fetf  of 
Tetaes  have  been  trnide  public.    Tlie  sons 
alluded  CO  by  Burn:  seems  to  have  been  o' 
tiioeLl  from  Mr.  Hoy,  ai   ic   appears 
Johnsoq^s  secood  volume. 

PiOO  29a,  NUTB  48.  Mr.  Charles  Ha 
sfterwerd*  Lord  Newton. 


HOTES  TO  THE 

llthof  Jannarj,l837.    In  the  course  of  Ms 
phiaiciao  3  diploma,  and  it  was  by  h' 


learning  in  the  ahsti 
profession,    'iliat 
lawyer  were  by  u 


rt  by  any  m 


jurisprudence. 

PaOb  23S.  Note  J9.— The  Charlotte 
here  meant  was  Miss  Charlotte  Hannlton, 
Hster  oi  Mr.  Gavin  Hamilton,  the  poel'sfirm 

Paqb  397,  Note  SO.— Alluding  to  the 
nuig  dedicated  to  Miss  Chalmers,  aud  of 


Gnea.  to  wit,  GUaap,  had  eome  considerable 
•lure  in  the  deep  interest  which  they  elicited 
in  the  mind  of  Bums.  Glenap  is  a  small 
place  in  the  southern  part  of  Ayrshire,  and 


coutiuued  to  reside  tiatil  h 


itedto 

Pmleasor  Du^ald  Stewart  also  a  wsrm 
friend,  aud  great  admirer  of  the  genius  of 
the  Scottish  Bard  Further  details  on  the 
subject  of  Burnas  intimacy  with  these  two 
worthy  and  distinguished  conteniporaFLea, 
ma)  be  gathered  from  the  particulars  afforded 
in  the  me  nuir  which  forms  the  GcsC  part  of 

Page  299,  Note  53, — Miss  TVilliams 
had,  ill  the  previous  month  of  June,  addressed 
■  letter  of  compliment  to  Burns,  which  may 
be  found  in  the  EdinburakMaffasiaetot  Sep- 
temlier,  1817.  where  the  letlei  ui  the  teit  also 
appeared  ftir  the  first  time,  along  with  tlieCol- 
lowlniuote  by  tbeeditor.Mr.  Thomas  Pringle; 
— "  The  critique,  though  not  without  some 
traits  of  his  usual  aound  judgment  and  dis- 
crimination, appears  on  the  whole  to  be  mudi 
in  Che  strain  of  those  gallant  and  Battering 
retpouaea  which  men  i5  geniua  uaually  find 

the  productions  of  their  female  admirers. 
Faqb  800,  Note  54.— This  was  the  per- 

letter  to  Dr.  Moore,  describes  as  his  com- 
panioD  at  Irvine — whose  mind  was  fraught 
with  every  mauly  virtue,  aud  who,  neverche. 
less,  was  the  means  of  making  him  regard 

Paoe   301,  Note  55.— Mrs.  McLeTiose, 

with  the  life  and  works  of  Bums,  nuder  the 
flcUtioua  name  of  Cinriaiio. 

Paqe  801,  Note  58— This,  according 
to  tlie  arrangement  of  Motherwell,  is  the  first 
of  the  letters  eilant,  and  addressed  by  Robert 
Burns  to  Mrs.  Mcl^bose,  although  it  had 
previously  been  published  as  the  aecond. 
The  date,  according  to  the  same  authority, 
must  have  been  December  6th,   1787.  to 

drunk  tea  with  her  on  that  day,  but  was  dis- 
appointed by  the  lady,  who  afterwards 
repeated  hra  iuvitation  for  Saturday  (the  ueic 
day  but  one),  when  he  was  once  more  disap- 
pointed,  in   consequeace  of  the  acddeiit 


;li  confines 


I  bywl 


id  despatclied  on  Saturday,  the  8cli  of  De 
imber,  1787.  We  ore  confirmed  as  to  thi 
date  of  these  letters,  by  those  addressed  t( 


Ho,t,db,  Google 


COERESPOKDENCE  OF  ETJENS. 
ents,  and  to 


:t  delinitely  pointed 


otiien  of  llil  comsp 
Chulmera  in  particulat, 
Sicd  daiRi,  sod  which 

lo  Saturday,  December  the  »tb,  17tSJ,  as  me 
day  upon  nhich  the  acddeat  occurred,  bj 
which  his  leg  was  injured.  We  have  already 
■tated  that  Jlrs,  McLeho$e  had  deferred  re- 
ceiving Burns  ou  the  Thursday  previous,  aud 
had  named  this  day  (Saturday)  to  receive  him 


PauB  302,  Note  Si 
alst  of  December,  to 
alhides,  hiis  been  lost,  n 


-The  letter  of  tJ 


le  lines 
begiiniiog;— 

"  Talk  not  of  love,  it  gives  me  pein,"  &c 
This  letter  naa  tlie  first  of  that  series  nhich 
was    signed    with  the  Arcadian    name    of 
''ChiriHda,"and  which  Bums  here  repeals 
with  marked  emphasis. 

Faqb  303,  Note  SB. — Judging  from  the 
bets  commimicBted,  or  alluded  to,  or  from 
the  contents  ofotlier  letters,  eiideutly  of  the 

written  betwUn  the  Hist  of  December  1787, 
and  the  3rd  of  January  ITBS.  It  would 
almost  serm  as  if  we  had  lost  some  of  the 

that  there  could  not  have  been  a  very  volii- 
ininous  series  of  letters  ialervening  between 
that  of  December  21st  and  this  one. 

PiGE  30e,  NoTB  60.— The  date  of  tins 
letter  was  nrobahty  before  the  20th  of 
January,  aud  it  might  possibly  have  been  as 
early  as  the  aghth  of  the  same  month;  wb 
can  only  iuter  ambiguously  from  the  context, 
and  the  circumslanees  which  transpire  in 
other  letters  of  the  same  period.  A  eontera- 
ponry  of  both  Sums  and  Ckrtnda,  has 
deHnitely  liied  tliis  letter  tor  the  12th  of 
January  1738,  but  upon  what  grounds  1  do 
not  precisely  know ;  poes: ' " 


ve  Tendered  the  Aa.U 


i,  Nm 


81.- 


Pagb  310,  Note  83.— Bums  hereolludei 
to  the  song  of  a-hich  tlie  opening  line  is 
"  Clarinda,  mistress  of  my  soul." 

Paqs  314,  Mots  63.— This  letter  was  i 
tepiv  to  the  subjoined  letter,  received  bi 
Burns  from  Mr.  Skinner,  inwhidi  he  allude; 
to  a  project  for  the  publication  of  a  completi 
colleetiou  of  Scottiah  songs  ;— 


"Lmheart,  Uth  November,  1787. 
"Sib— Your  kinil  return  without  date, but 
of  post-mark  October  25th,  came  to  my  hand 
only  this  diy ;  and,  to  testify  my  punctuality 
to  my  poetic  engagement,  I  ait  down  imme- 
diately to  answer  it  in  kind.  Your  acknoa. 
Icdgment  of  my  poor  but  just  eucomiuras  oa 
your  anrprisiug  genius,  and  your  opinion  of 
my  rhyming  excursions,  are  both,  I  think,  by 
fer  too  high.  The  difference  between  our  two 
tracks  of  education  and  ways  of  life  is  entirely 
in  your  fiivour,  and  gives  yon  the  preference 
in  every  manner  of  ivaj.    I  know  a  classical 

but  it  mightily  improves  and  assists  it ;  and 
thoi^h,  wiiere  both  these  meet,  there  may 
sometimes  be  ground  fa;  approbation,  yet 
where  taste  appears  ungle,  as  it  were,  and 
imped  nor  supported  by  aci^uisition. 


"■ays  f 


claim  to  applause, 
this  «ay,  I  have  I 
especially  in  the  t 


e  yeit 


Lofta 


■m^M 


into  latin  verse.  While  I  was  young,  I 
dabbled  a  good  deal  in  these  things ;  but, 
on  getting  the  black  gown,  I  gave  it  pretty 
much  over,  till  my  daughters  grew  up,  who, 
being  all  good  singers,  plagued  me  for  words 
of  their  fiivoiirile  tuues,  and  so  ei- 


e  beyond  a 


g  to !«  found 


doth,  which  I  would  idways  wish  to  aee 

"As  to  theassiatiHice  you  propose  from  me 
in  the  undertaking  you  are  engt^d  in,  1  am 
sorry  I  cannot  give  it  so  &r  as  I  could  wish, 
and  you  perhaps   expect.     My  daughters, 

furia-fianllkli,  and  the  old  woman  their 
mother  has  lost  tliat  taste.  Tliei«  are  two 
from  my  own  pen,  which  1  might  give  yon, 
if  worth  the  while.    One  to  the  old  Scotch 


DC  by  a  btoUier  parson  iu  ber  neighbour- 
lourhood,  to  accommodate  a  new  Highland 
eel  for   the    Marquis's    birth-day  to    tha 

'Tune  your  fiddles,  tune  them  sweetly,'  Sx.  - 


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BOTES  TO   THE 


'There  was  a  waa  wifeikic,  was  coming  frsa 
the  fair, 
Had  gotten  a  little  drapikie,  which  bred 

It  took  upo'  the  vifle'a  heart,  aud  she 

began  to  spew, 
And  CO'  the wea  nifwtie,  I  wish  I  binna 

I  wiah,'  &c.,  &e. 

"I  have  heard  of  annlhei  new  composition, 

by  a  youug  pioughinan  of  my  acquaintance, 

that  i  am  vastly  pleased  with,  to  tlie  tune 

of  'The  humoura  of    Glen,'  which  I  fear 

odginaL.  I  ha\'e  mentioned  these,  sjch  as 
th^  at^  to  show  my  readiness  to  oblij^ 
yon,  and  to  conlribHte  my  raile,  if  I  couLd, 


PaOE  316.  Note  66.— "The  letters  to 
.    the  poet  was  in  the  full  blaze  of  leputation, 

had  anticipated  the  public  by  discovering  hia 
merit." — W*u!  k  r. 

Page  316,  Noth  67.— An  intervening 
letter,  which  probahly  bore  date  abonl  the 


to  notify  your 


d,  and  what  you  want  of 


I  of  yours  already,  I 

hope  for  much  good.     One  lesson  o1 

and  morality,  delivered  in    your  s 


e  you 


'hat  cornea  will  be  admired.    Adniii 
ill  produce  regard,  and  regard  will  leave  ai 
npresaion,  especially  a'hea  example  goc 

Now  binna  saying  I'm  ill  bred. 
Else,  by  my  troth,  TU  no  be  glad ; 
For  cadgers,  ye  have  heard  it  said. 

And  sic  Uke  fty, 
Uana  *fe  be  harlaad  in  their  trade. 


Paqb  317,  Note  SS. — Burns  here  alludes 
to  Mr.  Jamea  Tennant.  of  Glenconner,  m 
Ayrshire,  to  whom  he  addressed  a  brief 
puein  (which  will  ho  found  in  its  proper 


Paoe  320,  Note  69.— It  is  probable  from 
the  allusions  cuntaiued  in  this  letter  that  it 
was  written  after  the  brief  visit  of  the  poet 
to  Ediuhnrgh,  in  which  he  finally  concluded 
the  ba^n  with  Mr.  Miller,  to  take  the  ikrm 
of  EUislaiid.  It  waa  on  the  13th  of  March, 
that  this  contract  wm  closad;  and  judging 
from  nrcumstances,  the  date  of  this  letter 
■oald  have  been  al>aut  the  ISthof  March. 
17S3.  Burns  did  not  see  Mrs.  McLehoso 
in  this  mstince,  and  appears  even  tu  hare 
aumded  an  interview,  for  private  reasons. 

Pagb  822,  Note  70.— The  words  in 
icstion,  are  those  which  bear  the  title  of 
\e  CAecaUiei'a  Lamml. 

Page  S33,  Note  71.— The  alluaion  here 
rriage  with  Jean  Armonr. 


.urgh,  wi 


ihai  b. 


Andsa 


"Wishins 


Paoe  314,  Note  64.— Dr.  Webster  was 
the  officiating  minister  of  the  Scottish  Epis- 
copalian Church,  at  Edinburgh, 

Pabe  315,  Note  65.— The  -Two  fait 
■pirits  uf  the  Hill"  alluded  to,  were  Miss 


id  which 
occurred  on  the  3lst  of  June,  1788. 

Page  327,  Note  74.— Burns  alludes  to 
a  parcel  of  books,  which  bis  friend,  Mr.  Hill, 
had  sent  to  lum  as  a  present. 

Page  338,  Note  75.— Mr.  David 
Itamsay,  the  printer,  and  publisher,  of 
the  EdiitbKrgh  Eeeaiag  Coarant, 

Page  328,  Note  7fl.— The  Croehallan 
Fenciblea,  a  select  club  of  wits 


onged,  aL 
vhich  ha  very  frequently  alludes. 

Page   328,  Note  77.— 
liiuiniugham,   jeweller,   of   Eduihurgh,  a 


Ho,t,db,  Google 


CORRESPONDENCE  OF  BUEHS. 


mutual  t'riend  o(  BolKrt  Buipa  end  Qeorge 
Thomson. 

Pace  333,  Notb  78. — TSi.  Munison 
w»s  a  cabinet  maker  and  upholsterer  at 
Mauchline,  who  had  undertnltea  to  famish 

it  should  be  completed. 
Paqb  336,  Note  7D.— A  quey— a  hrifer. 

reply  to  one  received  by  Bnnia  from  Mr. 

Citlrae,  of  which  the  subjoined  is  a  copy ; — 

"January  2nd,  1789. 

"Sib— If    yoa    hare    lately    seen   SI 

Duulnp,  of  Dunlop.  you  liave  certainly  heu 

this  fe'lL.  "hb  was  a  mm\i£hljTsprted 
foe  every  HccouiplishiuenC  and  virtue  which 
adorns  the  character  of  a  mau  on  a  Chris- 
tian. To  a  great  degree  of  blerature.  of 
taste  and  noetic  genius,  was  added  an  in- 
vineihLe  modesty  of  temper,  which  prevented, 
in  a  great  degree,  his  liguring  in  lite,  and 
confined  the  perfect  knowledge  of  his 
character  and  taleiita  ia  the  small  drcte  of 
bis  chosen  friends.  He  sas  niitimely  taken 
from  us,  a  few  weeks  ago,  by  an  inOammstory 


1  of  life ; 


who  enjoyed  his  acq^uaintance,  and  lamented 
by  all  who  have  any  regard  for  virtue  or 
geniua.  There  is  a  woe  pronounced  in  Scrip, 
tare  against  the  person  whom  all  men  speak 
weU  of;  if  ever  that  woe  fell  upon  the  liead 
of  mortal  man,  it  fell  upon  him.  He  has  left 
behind  him  a  considerable  number  of  com- 
positions, chieAy  poetical,  snlllident,  I  ima- 
gine, to  make  a  larje  oeCtio  volume.  In 
particular,  two  complete  and  regular  trage- 
dies, a  force  of  three  acts,  and  some  amallec 
poems  on  different  subjects.  It  falla  to  my 
share,  who  liave  lived  in  the  most  intimate 
with  him  from 

n  the  publication  of  your 
ana.  It  is  probable  tliey 
I  tliey  were  found  in  his 

lip  with  the  form  of  a  letter 

addresaed  to  you,  and,  1  imagine,  were  only 
prevented  from  beiiiE  sent  by  himself,  by 
that  melancholy  dispensation  which  we  still 
bemoan.  The  verges  themseivea  I  will  not 
pretend  to  critiuae,  when  writing  to  a  gen- 
Uemen  whom  I  consider  as  entirely  qiialilied 
to  jui%«  of  that  merit.  They  ate  the  only 
TCTses  he  seems  to  have  attempted  iu  (he 
Scottish  style ;  and  I  hesitate  not  to  say.  in 

on  the  Scottish  llmse ;  and  allow  me  to  add, 
that  if  it  is  your  opinion  they  are  not  uu- 
woctby  of  the  authw,  and  will  be  no  dis- 


credit to  you,  it  is  (he  inclination  of  Mr. 
Mybuis'  friends  that  they  should  immediately 

give  the  world  a  specimen  of  what  may  be 
eipected  from  his  performances  m  the 
poetic  line,  which  perhaps  will  ailerwarda  ba 
pubUshed  for  the  advantage  of  his  &mily. 

"  I  mnst  beg  the  favour  of  a  letter  tVom 
yoH  admowledging  the  receipt  of  this,  and 
to  be  allowed  to  aubscribe  myself,  with 
great  regard.  Sir.  your  most  obedient 
servant.  P.  CAEFBiE." 

Page  340.  Note  81.— -The  piety  of  this 


byGiUv 


t  Bums 


reased  oi 


■eaponae 


'1, 1789. 


"Dear  Bbotheh — 1  have  jual  finished 
my  new-year'sjay  breakfast  in  the  nsual 
fi,rm^  which  naturally  makes  me  call  to 
mind  the  days  of  former  years,  and  tlie 
society  in  wWch  we  used  to  begin  them; 
aJid  when  I  look  at  our  family  vicissitudes, 
'through  the  dark  pustern  of  time  long 
elapsed,'  I  cannot  help  remarking  to  you, 
my  dear  hruther,  how  good  the  GoD  (j 
SbasOiNS  is  to  us,  and  that,  however  some 
clouds  may  seem  to  kiwer  over  tlie  portion 


of  ti 


e  have  grea 

.  sisters,  with  'Rdbett  the 
he  compliments  of  the 
Irs.  Bums,  and  beg  yon 
a  the  same  mminec  to 
niliam.  the  first  time  yon  see  him.  1  am, 
:ar  brother,  youra,  GtLBEKT  BuBNS." 
Paob  34S.  Notb  32.— Alesander  Geddes. 

09  reared  as  a  Catholic  clergyman,  and  long 
Belated  in  that  capacity  iu  hia  native 
luiitry,  and  elsewhere.  As  humbly  born 
I  Biima,  he  possessed  much  of  his  strong 
id  eccentric  genius,  and  it  is  not  aurpris. 
g  that  he  and  the  Ayrshire  hard  should 
ive  become  friends.  After  1780,  his  lib 
as  spent  in  London,  chiefly  under  the 
fostering  patronage  of  a  generous  Catholic 
nobleman.  Lord  Fetre.  The  hetcrodoi 
>iniona  of  Sr.  Geddes,  hia  eitraordtnary 
tempts  to  transbtc  the  Bible,  end  his 
imcrous  fiigitive  publications  on  contro- 
d'sial  divinity,  made  much  noise  at  the 
me ;  but  he  ia  now  only  remembered  for 
•mc  snceeseful  Scotch  verses.  This  singular 
au  died  iu  London,  February  20th,  1802, 

Paok  3«,  Note  83.— A  copy  of  Burna'a 
Poems,  belonging  to  Dr.  Geddes,  into  which 
the  pset  had  traiiaferred  some  of  hia  mote 


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nceat  vtnta.    The  t 
in  the  posseBsion  of  I 
Square,  Loudon. 
Page  343,  Note  8^ 


BOTES  TO  THE 

Paoe  S4E,  NoTi 


nely,  tb 


te  allud 


line  (and  brother  to  Mrs.  Bum!),  lira. 
Adam  Armout  lonived  the  poet  nearl;  half 
a  century. 

Paqe  34*,  Note  85.— The  following  ia 
the  letter  to  which  the  above  was  an  answer. 
Dr.  Currie  has  nofortuiiaiely  eD]>p[es3ed 
the  name  of   this    correapoudent    of  our 

'•Lwdm,  Ai^iat  5(J,  17B9. 
"Mt  De*k  Sir— Ejcusemewhen  I  say, 
that  the  uncommon  abilities  which  yon 
po9M!9  must  render  your  correspondence 
very  acceiiI»We  to  any  one  I  can  assure 
you  I  am  particularly  proud  of  your  partitility, 
and  sliall  endeavour,  by  every  metlujd  in  my 


"■WTieu  you  ean  spare  a  few  moments,  I 
bIiquU  heptimd  ut  a  Icnet  from  you,  directed 
for  me,  Gerard  Street.  Soliu. 

"  I  cannot  express  my  happiness  sulli- 
(acntly  H  the  instance  of  yout  otcachment 

1    particularly 


I    recollect 
sifonls  me  the 


myself   and 
vith  pleasure  hU 

^atesE  consolaluiTL  luai  i  uiu  huiiut 
with  IhB  correspondence  of  hia  succpsso 
national  simplicity  and  j^iins.  That 
Bums  has  refined  in  the  art  of  poetry,  n 
readily  be  admitted;  but,  notwithatani 
many  favourable  repi  '  " 

to    learn    that    he    i 


Lviviat 


.. .      ,  .    [ititude    of   fancy   and 

Mtrartion  in  him,  that  when  I  call  the  happy 
period  of  our  iuterconrae  to  my  memory,  I 
feel  myself  in  a  state  of  delirium.  I  waa 
then  younSsr  than  him  by  eight 
Tears,  hut  his  man 
he   enraptured  ev 

"' '''"''  "'. "3 

operated  on  his  own  mind.    I  am,  den  Sir, 
jour's,  &C. 

Paoe  344,  Note  88.— Mr.  Edward 
Neilson,  offiraatiiig  Preshyterian  Minister  of 
the  church  of  Kirkheao,  in  the  atewartry  of 
Kitkcudhtisht 


"There  w 


felidti 

the  youn^ 


ST.— Subjouied  i)  Dr. 


e  poems  yon    have  pubUshed.     You 
onght  carefully  to  preserve  all  your  occaaonal 


"  If  t  were  to  oH^r  an  opinion,  it  would  be, 
at,  in  your  future  productions,  yon  should 
aiidun  tlie  Scottish  stanza  and  dialect,  and 
opt  the  measure  and  language  of  modern 


"The 

stania  which  you  use 

in  imitation 

ot 'Chr 

st's  Kirk  CHI  the  Rrce 

I.'  with  the 

repetition  of 'that  day 

toEnjrl 

h  cats,  and  I  ahonld  i 

asteeabl 

to  Scottish. 

"All 

be  fine  satire  and  hum 

our  of  your 

■HolyF 

iit,'  is  lost  on  the  English ;  yet  with- 

tronble  to  yourself,  yo 

u  coald  bare 

conveyed  the  whole  "to  them." 

The  same  ia 

true  of 

ome  of  your  other  poen 

18.     In  your 

t£i 

J-  Smith,  the  stanias 
with  this  line  ;i1iis  1 

ot  that  be- 

while  it  grieves,'  are  easy  flowing  gaily 
philosophical  and  of  Uoracian  electee : — the 
language  is  English,  nich  a  few  Scottish 
words,  and  some  of  those  so  hafmonioua  aa 
to  add  to  the  heauty :  for  what  poet  would 
not  preier  ffloataing  to  tmtiffht  ? 

'  I    imagine   by  carefully  keeping,  and 
occasionally  polishiug  and  correcting  those 


o,have 


,  ready  for  the  press  j  and 
his,  wiUioul  diverting  you  from  every 
roper  attention  to  the  study  and  practice  of 
.usbandry,  ia  winch  I  understand  you  are 
ery  learned,  and  wliich  I  fancy  you  will 

muses  you  from  time  to  time  hke  a  mistress. 
"  THie  former,  like  a  prudent  wife,  must 
Lot  show  ill-humour,  although  you  retuii  a 
iieaking  kindness  to  this  agreeable  gipsy, 


d  pay  h 


promote  her  iiUerest. 


Hoifdb,  Google 


COERESPONDENCE  OP  BTTETTS. 


Iknonrjou  are  I 
not  think. 

"I  beg  youwi 


s.  Hflmiltoi) 
iindetsHind,  is  your  neblibour.  If  a 
hsppj  as  I  wish  het,  she  ia  happy  i 
Make  m;  GDmp1iii.eiit!  also  to  Mrs. 
■nd  belieTC  me  to  be,  with  aincero 
dear  Sir,  your'e,"  &e.  &c. 

Paob  348.  Note  88,— The  husband  of 
this  lady  was  chamber 
Qneensbeny,  at  whose  honse  of  Dmnllaur^ 
the  family  cousegiieiitly  lived.  The  beauti- 
ful daughters  of  Mr.  aud  Mrs.  M'Murdii  are 
the  heroines  of  se'ersl  of  Buma'a  aoiijta. 

Paob  347,  NtJijj  8B.— Burns  had  also 
sent  a  copy  of  the  lines  traDECribed  in  this 
lettet  to  Dr.  Gregory,  for  hia  opinion  of 
their  merit  or  demerit,  to  which  Dr.  Qregoiy 
replied  as  follows : — 

"Miabargh,  June  2nd,  17S9. 

"Dear  Sm— 1  lake  the  first  leisure 
bour  I  could  commena,  to  thank  you  for 
your  letter,  aiid  the  copy  of 


^ithet,   and  ri 
such  epithets,  8 


appear 


vstiS 


ncnngmoas  with  poetic  foncy  and  fender 
lentiraents.  Suppose  Pope  had  writltm. 
Why  that  blood-st«ined  bosom  gored,'  hoir 
KOuld  yoQ  have  Uked  it  ?  Form  is  nratba 
1  poetic  nor  a.  diguilied,  nor  a  plain  couunoa 
mrd;  it  is  a  mere  sportsman's  word;  un- 
luitahle  to  pathetic  or  serious  poetry. 

"'Mangled'  is  a  coarae  word.  'Innocent,' 
n  this  senee,  ia  a  nursery  word,  but  both 


tanatii.     'Who  will  m 


1  tenderuei 
'Du  shoIiM 


eric  I  m 


life  a  mother 
ataU:  it  is  m 
pble.  Do  you 
which  the  moth 
provide  for?  ■ 
^!le^e- 
-ling'  ( 
;itle  of  yoni 
would  be  wrong ; 
Tulgor  word,  unsiulable  to  your  sentiment*. 
'  Shot '  is  improper  too.  On  seeing  » jieraon 
(or  aaportamao)  waundehare;  itisueed- 
less  to  add  with  what  weapon  i  hut  if  yoa 
ik  otherwise  yoa  should   say,  with  a 


>vide  for  that  lifs 


n  the 


eopyo! 


■.0  felli 


:  you  can  do  it  you  pleaae.  for  you 
t  comuiaad  both  of  expiessiou  and 
:  snfl  you  may  iuds^e,  from  the  two 
a  of  Mra.  Hunter's  poetry  that  I 
,  bow  much  conectneaa  and  high 


-   >»Ii«3 


"Let  mi 


weyon 


great  freolom.  give  you  my  m 

give  me  another  edition  of  i 
amended,  and  1  will  send  it  to  Mia.  ilni 
who.  I  am  sure,  will  have  mnch  pieosui 
reading  it.  Pray  give  me  likewise  for 
eeU,  and  her  too,  a  copy  (as  much  amet 
aa  yon  pleaoe)  of  the  '  Water  Fowl  on  toch 


"It  must  b 

ea<!mitted,tha 

this  criticism  is 

not  more  d 

its  good  sense. 

than  by  its 

freedom  from 

sremony.    It  is 

inipoaaibia  n 

which  the  p 

Mt  may  be  an 

pposed  to  ba™ 

received  it. 

nfact,itappea 

a,  as  the  sailors 

aay,  to  have 

throw^himo^ 

te  abiKk.    In  a 

letter  which  he  wrote  soon  af 

er,beaays,  'Dr. 

Gtr«!oryiaa 
And  agiun, 

Ibehevein  th 

be  crucifies  me.' 
iron  justice  of 

Dr.  Gregory 

but,  lite  the 

devils,  1  helieie 

».d  tremble 

'       However. 

he  profited  by 

these  criricis 

ms.  as  the  rea 

er  will  find  by 

"'The  Wounded  H 


pretty  good 


ig  tbia  1 


m  of  the  I 


have  chosen  for  it  is  not  a  good  one ;  it 
not  ^  well ;  and  the  rhyme  of  the  fourth 
line  is  almost  lost  by  its  distaiu»  fron 


"Stunia  1.    Theei 


]at  elsewhere  pubhshed," — Cuuhie. 

Paob  3S0,  Note  BO.—This  lady  had 
een  introduced  to  Burns  by  Dr.  Moore, 
t  was  Miss  Helen  Maria  Williams. 

Pace  351  Note  91.— Subjoined  ia  Miss 
Viliiams  reply  to  this  letter  ;— 

Aui/iait  llh,  1799. 

"Deab  Sir — I  do  not  lose  a  moment  n 


Ho,t,db,  Google 


S»  H0TE3 

retomtng'  yon  m;  sincere  BckaDwIedgmenla 
for  jour  letter,  and  yoor  cnticism  oii  my 
poeED,  which  is  a  very  flattering  proof  that 
ymi  jia.ve  reed  it  nith  attention  I  think 
your  ohjections  ate  perfectly  just,  except  m 

"You  hove  iniieed  been  very  profuse  ot 
panegyric  on  my  little  pertbrmoiioe.  A. 
mncti  less  portion  of  applause  from  you 
would  have  been  gratifying  to  me ;  smce  I 
think  ita  value  depends  entirely  upon  the 


TO  THE 

Scotland,  p.  B98. — It  was  enclosed  to 
Tohn  by  Mr.  Eidad  himself,  in  tbe  follo' 
etter,  also  printed  there: — 

•3iK  JOHH— I  enclose  joii  a  ll 
iritteu  by  Mr.  Burna,  S3  on  addlUon  ti 
account  of  Dunacote  parish.  It  contaii 
■     ■       imaU  library  which  he  VI 


]jke  other  incense,  is  more 
quality  than  Che  quautjty 


of  the  < 

"  [  hope  you  still  cnltinite  the  pleasures 
of  poetry,  which  are  pre^ous,  even  indepen- 
dent  of  the  rewards  of  fame.  Perhaps  the 
most  valuable  property  of  poetry,  is  its 
power  of  (Hsenjagiug  the  mind  from  worldly 
cares,  sod  leedmg  the  imagination  to  the 
richest  springs  al  intellectual  enjoyment; 
since,  boweier  frequently  life  may  be 
chequered  with  gloomy  scenes,  those  who 
faully  love  the  muse  can  always  find  one 

by  sunshine." 

Page  351,  Note  92.— Mr.  John  L<Hau, 
of  Knochshinnock,  Glen  Afton,  in  the 
eoimty  of  Ayr. 

PiOB  854,  NoTB  93.— Bums  had  in 

to  the  Ihihe  of  Qneensberry,  whom  he  has 
0  dealt  with,  "mill  eiemplory 


enly. 


>,  Note  94.— Lady  Winifred 
ras  at  this  tjme  the  lineal 
:  of  the  House  of  Constable,  of 


erased  Che  pi 
FiOB  35 
Constable  i 
repreaentaUi 
Nithsdale,    anu    was    an    uucompcooiisins 

Seott,  in  alluding  to  this  letter,  which  he 
pent  to  Mr,  Lockhart,  rallies  the  opinions  of 
Bums  as  expressed  to  that  "quaint  old 
curmudgeon,  Udy  W,  Constable." 

Pagr  366,  Note  95.— Bums  here  alludes 
to   the    Unea    addressed    to    Mi,  William 


Tytler. 


(s  l^kia  leader! 


B,  Note  96.—. 


I  allusion  I 


y  Lacks,  and  to  the 

Page  356,  Note  97.— In  the  song  "I 
gSed  a  waefu'  gate  yestreen,"  Euma  has 
celebrated  one  of  tbe  daughters  of  this 
gentleman.  He  was  tho  roiuialar  of  tbe 
Church  of  Lochmaben, 

Page  357,  Note  99.- "This  letter  is 
Otracled  from  the  third  volume  of  Sir 
John    Sinclair's    Statistical    Account    of 


^(at 


barony  of  Moiikland.  ot  Friars  Carse,  in  this 
parish.  Aa  its  utility  has  been  felt,  par- 
licuhirly  among  the  younger  class  of  people, 
I  think  that  if  a  similar  plan  were  established 
in  the  different  parishes  of  Scotland,  it  would 
tend  greatly  to  tbe  speedy  improvement 
of  the  Ceiiantry,  tradespeople,  and  work- 
people, Mr,  Bums  was  so  good  as  to  take 
the  ahole  cliarge  ot  this  small  concern.     Ha 

little  soiaety,  who  will  long  have  a  grateful 
sense  of  his  public  spirit  and  eiertians  for 
their  improvement  and  informatioiL  I  have 
tbe  honour  to  be.  Sir  John,  yoar's  most 
auicefely,  E«bbht  Kiddei.." 

— CuBBIB.  Mr.  Cunnii^ham  adds,  thst 
the  minister  of  Dunacore  probably  omitted 
to  notice  the  Monkland  library  scheme, 
fcom  dislike  to  the  kuid  of  literature  patro- 


Willi 


Note    ! 


—It   1 


euted  a 


Mi. 


of  Spenser's  I 

Fabb  359,  Note  100,— An  allusion  to  a 
ballad,  in  which  one  of  the  Lidies  in  wMting 
Co  Mary   Queen  of  Scots,  is  described  19 

as  hming  uudei^ne  capital  punishment 
in  consequence  Tlie  stanza  here  quoted 
are   the   supposed    lost  eipressums  which 

Mary  aneen  of  Scots  had  boweier  curious 
enough,  four  sCtendants  ot  the  same  Christian 

Page  359  Note  101  — Fra  icis  tho 
second  sail  of  the  poet  to  whom  Mrs 
Dunlop  had  stood  as  godmother 

"      -     —     Note     103— Burns     here 


alludes 


(evertty  from  tho  Magistrates  of  Edinburg 
in  which  Creerfi  had  been  one  of  the  mo 

liad  been  subjected  had  been  so  «ei  ere  i  idev' 

iseoawakei  genera! sympatbymberbeliall 

Page  360    Note  103— Perhaps  no  s 

ire  eftectually  av 


easy  credul  ty  of  tl 


-If  Google 


COERESPONDESCE  OF   BUESS. 


525 


LondcHi,  tool — No  wonder  that  BuniBwi 
duiIed  bj  the  siilettdDur  of  the  proroiae. 
IB  no  unuauil  thiog  Cor  this  class  of  ii 
poalora  to  illiutntte  the  Holy  Scripturts  1 
plates  originally  engraied  for  the  Uiatory 
EnglBiid,  and  I  hli'e  actiiolly  seen  subjec 
deaigned  by  oar  celebiUed  artist  Stotiiai 
ftom  Clarissa  Harlone  and  the  Novelisi 
Magizine,  converted,  with  inctedihle  de 
teritif,  by  these  bookselling  Breslaws,  io 
Bcriptntal  eubelliBhraents  1    One  of  these 
Tenders  of  'Family  liiblcs'  ktely  called  on 
tae,  to  consult  me  piofessonall^'  abant  a  folio 
eugraviug  he  brought  mth  him.    It  rcpre- 
aeuted  Mons,  BuSon,  seated,  coutemphtiag 
taiious  groups  of  animala  that  surrounded 
turn  :    1^   merely  wished,  he  said,  to  be 

nlist,  and  giving  him  a  rather  more  lesolnle 
look,  the  p)alc  could  not,  at  a  trifling  eipenss, 
be  made  to  pasa  for  'Daniel  iu  Che  liana' 
Den!'"— CBoaEK. 

P*6B  31il,  Note  10*.— This  letter  ail] 
be  the  better  understood,  nhcn  it  is  sdiled 
tbat  Burns  had  a  very  short  time  before 

'20thJamuir^,M90. 

"In  some  instances  it  is  rcckoaeil  unpar- 
donable to  quote  any  one's  owu  words    "    ' 
the  valne  I  have  for  your  friendship,  nc 
can  mote  truly  or  more  elegantly  eipres 
'  'nme  but  the  impreasiou  strouger  m 

As  sttcaiiiB  their  channela  deeijer  n< 
Having  written  to  you  twice  without  having 
heard  from  yon,  I  am  apt  to  thiuk  mylettf" 
have  miscarried.  Uy  conjecture  ig  ot 
framed  upon  the  chapter  of  acddenta  tumi  __ 
up  Bganist  lue,  as  it  too  often  does,  in  tlie 
triviid,  and  I  may  with  Uulh  add,  the  mare 
imporcant  affeirs  af  life ;  hnt  I  shall  continne 
occaaionally  to  inform  you  what  is  going  on 
among  tlie  circle  ot  your  friends  in  these 
pwts.  Ill  these  days  of  merriment,  I  have 
frequently  heard  your  ruune  proclaimed  at 
the  jovial  board,  under  the  roof  of  oui 
hospitable  friend  at  Sienhouse-mille ;  there 

'  Lingering  moments  nnmber'd  with  ca 
I  aa*  vom  '  Address  to  the  New-year,'  in 
the  Dainfries  JmroeL    Of  your  productions 
I  shall  sny  nothing;  bat  my  acqu^nfancea 


"With  heat  compliments  to  your  wife,  and 
kcr  blacli.eyed  sister,  1  remain  yours,  &g." 

PaQe  382,  Note  105.— A  lett«  to  lady 
larriet  Don,  quoced  by  Mr.  Cunningham 
n  his  edition  of  Burns,  shows  that  the  poet 


d  the  anecdote  of  Albert    lilane  being 

Paqi  361,  Note  107.— The  sonnets  of 
Charlotte  Smith. 

Pahe  385,  Note  108— This  letter  wa» 

geuttemui,  to  whose  liberal  advice  and 
iiiformadon  I  am  much  indebted,  Mr-  John 
Murdoch,  the  tutor  of  the  jioet,  accompanied 
by  the  folioii'ing  interesting  note  :— 

"  Loaim,  Rart-Slreet,  Sloonwbiirs, 
Veeember  28(*,  1807. 
''DEAR8iB,—Thefollomi^  letter,  which 
I  lately  found  noioiig  my  papers,  I  copy  for 
your  perusal,  partly  hecauae  it  is  Burns's, 

of  my  rational  Christian  friend,  bis  father ; 
and  likewjae,  because  it  ia  rather  flattering 
to  myself.  I  glory  in  no  one  thing  90  much 
aa  an  intimacy  with  good  men ;— the  friend- 
ship of  others  reflects  no  honour.  When  I 
recollect  the  pleasure  (and  I  hope  beueBt)  I 

Bums,  especially  when  on  the  Lord's  day  we 
walked  ti^hec  f6r  about  two  miles  to  the 
hoiiae  of  prayer,  there  publif^y  to  adore  and 
nraise  the  Giver  of  all  Good,  1  entertain  an 
hope  that  ti^ther  we  ahall '  renew 


thegl 


mighty  SI 


■n^,   I    s 


brity  n 


which 

often       ..       , 

Meadoia,  agaios 

narrow-minded  reptiles,  of  whom  a 

Qiia  planet  do  cnuiii. 


Ulere  jbllmm  the  hller  reialiue  ta  j 
miUam  Barai.} 
"I  promised  myself  a  deal  of  happint 

hut  my  promises  of  this  nature  geni 


mere  cliild,  CDucernuis  the  pity  and  tender. 

it  seems  was  brought  to  the  level  of  bis 
csfacity),  he  dedued  himself  indebted  lol 


Hosted  by  Google 


Dt  pnrcnCs  and  te: 
iksi  to  t^h  B«i 


oualy  , 


They 

ja  generally  thought.  Strong  and  indelible 
impreesiuns  are  to  be  made  before  Ibe  mind 
be  sgitnlrd  ind  ruffled  by  the  uuniecou! 
train  of  ilisirsctine  cares  and  unruly  passioni, 
'■'■'■'  ''      'endered   ahuosi 


BOTES  TO  THE 

Foathnmous  Child  was  bom  oi 
Dunlop's  dau^hte 
The  leet 


'5  imagine  thai 


.ceptible  of  tb 


rinciples 


and  sound  moialit;. 

:lf  digreasiug  a^in.    Poor 

the  hloom  and  vigour  of 

niigbt  a  putrid  fever,  and  in  a  fb»  daya. 

as  real  chief  muBriier,  I  followed  bi«  remaiui 

to  tbe  iand  of  fOtgetfulneso. 

CBnsiES.  "'JiiiiK  Murdoch." 

Paoe  363,  Notb  109,— '  The  preceding 

letter  to  Mia.  ]>uulop.  explain*  llie  feeliriga 

under  ivliich  thia  waa  written.    The  atraia 

longer  in  the  atyle  vhich  oni  bud  vas  too 
apt  10  indulge,  and  of  which  tbe  reader  haa 
^really  seen  so  much,'* — Currie. 

Pagr  3aa,  Note  110.— lliis  fragmeat, 
first  publiflhed  by  Cromek,  is  placed  hy  him, 
and  aub^iient  editora,  under  1T94,  and  by 
Mr.  CunniflKhnm  i>  aiir  posed  to  be  addreiacd 
to  Dr.  linbert  Anderson,  the  editor  of  tbe 
British  Poets.  We  have  little  doubt  that 
the  gentleman  addtessed  was  Dr.  Jamea 
Anderson,  ■  wetl-known  agricultural  and  mis- 
cellaneous uriCer,  and  the  editor  of  a 
weekly  miscellany  entitled '"Hie  Bee."  This 
publication  was  commenced  in  Edinbur);h, 
Becember,  1700,  and  concluded  hi  January 

inis,  from  tbe  alhi- 


1794,  when 


it '  form) 
■tier  b,  1 


poet  bud  en 


bably,  I 


spplica 


n  for  aid 


m  the  conduct  of  "The  Bee,' 

be  started.    ]?or  these  reasons,  ttie  present 

editor  has  shifted  ita  place  in  the  poet's 

Paqe  367,  NoTS  111. — Susan,  one  of 
Nrs.  Vunlop's  danghters,  liad  married  » 
French  gentleman  of  rank  and  fortune,  of 
the  name  of  Hetiri,  and  this  letter  of  tbe 
poet'a  was  written  to  Mrs.  Unntoii,  upon  the 
receipt  of  iiitelligei       "        "'  ■■      ■ 


'n  birth  to 


chUd  so 


onths  a 


0  had  di 
died  on  tbe  22ud  of  Jane,  1790,  and  bis 


a  Castle, 


Ayrshii 


Stanzaa  on  tbe  Birthday  of  a 
Poathiimua  Child."  In  one  of  the  following 
letters  of  Burui  to  Mrs.  Dunlop,  lie  aliudea 
to  tlie  perilous  situatiou  of  Madame  Henri, 
who  had  been  compelled  to  proceed  to  France, 
^r  the  purpose  of  disposing  of  some  lamily 
aifairs  of  her  deceased  husband,  just  at  the 
time  when  the  most  ftightful  excesaes  of  die 
being  pDrpetrsted  Modjuna 
tnrtieil  to  England,  as  she 
mouths  after  ■  '    ■  ' 


Reiulut 


choly  0 


France. 

Bums  again  alludeain 

Diinlop.    Wadame  Henri  had  left  her 

"'"■"      '     "      -     of  her  deceased  hu! 


Un. 


htber, 


[,  Hen: 


le  elder 


ipelled  to  take  refuge 
in  Swiuerknd.  had  been  obliged  to  leave  his 
grandchild  behind  him ;  and  no  tidings  were 
heard  of  this  child  until  some  years  nfter- 
wscda,  when  tbe  gtand&thec  was  enabled  to 
return  to  tha  enjoyment  of  his  property.  In 
the  interim  of  tune  which  had  elapsed,  the 
child  luul  been  reared  hy  a  person  of  the 
name  of  Susette,  previously  a  female  servant 
of  Che  household  of  M.  Senri  the  elder ;  and 
she,  though  compelled  to  provide  tta  her 
orphan  ehaije  at  the  coat  of  her  own  toil, 
had  constantly  obaeried  all  the  delicate 
attentions  which  could  possibly  have  been 
enjoyed,  had  his *  " 


iiijoyrai 


of  their 


gnmdion  of  Mrs.  l>uiilop  aubseqnentty 

returned  to  Bcotland  for  a  short  time,  hut 
continued  to  reside  permanently  at  tbe 
chateau  which  he  had  hiberitcd  from  Ills 
paternal  grandfather ;  and  his  ^ithfui  pre- 
server long  sursived  to  enjoy  the  grateful 
recompense  of  her  fidelity. 

Page  3Sa,  Noie  Ha.— One  of  the  SupB> 


,    Charier 


Page   3H8,   Notb   113.— 3Ir. 
Sliarpe,  to  whom  this  letter  was  adorcsseu 
by  Bums,  was  the  bthcr  of  the  Chulea 
Kirkpatrick  Sharps,  the  iutimate  friend  of 

several  very  beautifiJ  origin^  ballada  to  the 
Border  Miiatfelsg, 
Paue   369,    Note    114.— Bunn    beta 

by  lady  W 


supposed  to  have 

of  the  poet,  m  leaping  (a 


liable. 


y  Queen  of  Scots, 


Hosted  by  Google 


COKEESPONDESCE  OF  BDENS. 


India,  hud  the  misfortune  to  break  thia  boi, 
uid  irmwrably  damngB  the  potwait. 

P  OE    6%  Note  115.— Tlie  PrMident  of 
be  Co       ml   Clnb,  called  the  Crochallan 


Dear  Sib — Mf,  Hill  yesterday  p«t  into 
my  h  ds  a  sheet  ot  '  Grose's  Antjouities,' 
eonlaining  a  pnem  of  yours,  entitled  'Tam 
o'  ShantCT.  a  Tale."  Tlie  very  high  pleasure 
I  liave  received  from  (he  perusal  of  this 
admirable  piece,  I  feel,  ilemands  the  wannest 
•chuoaleilginents.  HiU  tells  me  he  is  to 
send  oIF  a  pacliet  for  you  this  day ;  1  oiuiot 
resist,  therefore,  puttillR  oh  paper  what  I 
must  hare  told  you  in  person,  had  I  met 
with  yon  afwr  the  recent  pemsol  of  your 
tale,  Tvhicli  is,  that  I  feel  I  owe  you  a  debt, 
vhieb,  if  undischarged,  would  reproach  me 
with  ingratitude,    1  have  seldom  in  my  life 


re  they  CO 


nsideout. 


[The  four  li 
'Three  laiFyets'tonj(uw 
Vii'  lies  seemed  like  a  ue^gar  s  ciout. 
And  priests'  hetuts  rotten,  bluck  as  mui^ 
Lay  stinking,  vile,  iu  every  iieuk.' 

obedience  (o 


dance  ot  Satan  him- 
self—the apostrophe,  'Ah,  little  thought  thf 
reverend  grannie!'— the  Wwispurt  of  Tam. 
who  forgets  bis  sitnation,  and  enters  com- 
pletely into  the  spirit 


fcatnn 


f   h^li  1 


eicclleui 


tasted  of  higher 
composition 


ffljoymi 


imposition,  llie  otilf  faalt  it 
13,  that  the  wilding  np,  or  conclusion  oi  tne 
stoiy.  is  not  commensunte  to  the  iiilereat 
wbicli  is  excited  by  tlie  descriptive  and 
painting    of    the    preceding 


The   I 


md  I  ai 


s  line,  bill  the 


another  syllable,  wmdd  not  liave  been  s 
eient  to  have  transmitted  ymir  name  d 
to  posterity  s'ich  high  reputaUon.  In 
introductory  part,  vhere  you  paint 
character  of  your  hero,  and  eiliibit  hit 
the  alehouse  iKff/e,  with  hia  tippling  croi 
'fl  delineated  natt 


unveti    t 


ould    I 


hapa,  you  have 

the  popular  tale. 
"  And  now  that  I  have  got  out  my  mind, 

and  feel  s  little  relieved  of  the  aeight  of 
It  debt  I  owed  you.  let  me  end  thia 
lultory  scroll  by  an  advice; — Yoii  have 
ived  your  talent  tar  a  species  of  composi. 

^ta  have  succeeded.    Go  on — write  more 


MMthew  Prior;  but  when  you  describe  the 
infernal  orgies  of  the  witclies'  Sabbath,  and 
the  hellish  soenery  in  which  they  are  ei- 
hibited,  ynti  display  a  power  of  iataginatioii 
that  Shakespeare  himself  could  not  have 
exceeded.  I  know  not  that  I  have  ever  met 
with  a  picture  of  more  horrible  ^cy  than 
the  following:— 
'  Collilis  stood  round  lite  open  presses. 


But  when  I  came  to  the  succeeding  line 

my  blood  ran  cold  within  me : — 
'  A  knife,  a  father's  throat  had  mangled. 
Whom  his  ain  son  ot  life  bereft ; 
Tie  S'ey  '"''•'  yet  stack  (o  the  ke/t.' 
"And  here,  after  the  two  foUowii^  Une 

•Wi'  mait  o'  horrible  and  awfu'.'  &c..  tt 

descriptive  part  might,  perliapa,  have  her 

■uceeed,  which,  tkn^h  good  in  thetoselvea,    i 


Paoe  370,  Note  llT.^Thia  respectable 
and  benevolent  person,  since  Principal  of 
the  University  of  Edmhurgh.  had  written  to 
Sums,  reqnestmg  his  aid  in  revising  Bruce's 

volnme.  It  does  not  appear  that  the 
ciliiion  which  enbsequenlly  appeared,  con- 
tained any  poem  by  Burns, 

Paqe  372,  Note  118.— Thii 
which  Mr.  IJngald  Stewart,  in 
nic:itian  to  Uc.  Curne  respecting  Duma 
{printed  in  the  Memoir  written  by  that 
gentleman),  says  he  read  with  surprise. 


le  lector 


ed  Ayrsl 


e  bard 


[■.  Cuirie's  Memoir  of  Bums.  The  doo- 
ine  here  alluded  to,  is  one  peiniliar, 
1  believe,  to  the  Scotch  school  of  metaiiby- 


Hosted  by  Google 


NOTES  TO  THE 


Ibu  our  ideu  of  bewiCy  in  objects,  of  all 

wme  atber  idcua  of  an  agreEnbLe  kiud.  For 
instance,  our  notion  of  beauty  in  Ihe  cheek 
of  a  pretty  mudeu  arises  from  our  uoliuus 
of  her  liealth,  innocence,  and  ao  forth ;  our 
notion  of  the  beauty  of  a  Higlilaud  prospect, 
■iich  as  the  TroBachs,  from  our  notions  of 
the  romauCic  kind  of  life  formerly  led  in  it ; 


doqueucB  of  an  Alison,  a  Stewart  and  a 
Jefl'rey,  must  now  ba  considered  ai  amongst 
the  dceains  of  philosophy. 

Page  374,  Note  110.— "This  gentleman, 

friend.  Lord  Glenciint,  with  a  view  to  en- 
counige  a  second  edition  of  eke  poems,  kid 


le  before 


e.  bard's 


1  slender  acquaintance 

conunDiiicated.  to  Burns  by  Itlr.  Daliel,  is 
liighly  cteditabte  to  the  character  of  Lord 
Glencairn.  After  reading  the  book,  his 
lordship  declared  that  its  merits  greatly 
exceeded  bis  expectation,  and  he  took  it  with 
hira,  as  a  literary  curi^y,  to  Edinburgh, 
He  repeated  his  wishes  to  ha  of  service  to 
Burns,  aud  desired  Mr.  Dnizel  to  inform 
liioi,  that  in  patconisiog  the  boot,  ushering 

the  booksellers,  he  would  most  nillingly  give 
every  md  in  bis  power ;  adding  his  request. 


eipluned  tl 


:  Mrs. 


menC  had  occurred  only  two  days  before 
date  of  thia  letter,  that  is,  on  the  DEh 
Apr^.  It  was  the  birth  of  William  Nicol 
Bums,  to  which  this  letter  refers, 
child  was  christened  after  Mr.  W.  N. 
teacher  in  Ihe  High  School,  Edinburgh 
the  warm  friend  of  Bums, 

E  a74.  Note  121.— An  allusit 


the  graodeoi 


>nofI^ 


Vkhs  375,  NoTS  122.— Dr.  Robinson, 


'ho  stood  in  the  relBtiouship  of  mstetnol 
ncle  to  Mr.  Cunningham. 
PiOE  376,  NOTB  la3.--rady  E.  Cun- 

Biron,  the  deceased  Eatl  of  Gleucairn,  as 


Paob  376,  NoTB  134.— The  accompar 
lurus  here  alludes,  was  the  "lamen 


Paqe  378,  Note  125,- Colonel  FuSlarton 
is  meutioued  with  praise  and  reaped  by 
Bums,  in  his  poem  of  The  Hsioii.  Tliis 
letter  was  lirat  pubhslied  in  the  year  lEliiS, 
in  the  FBiiley  SiagBiine. 

Page  376,  Note  136.~An  allusion  to 
eight-page  song   books,    produced    in    the 

matter,  usually  heralded  with  the  title  of 
Six  ExcetitHl  Sons!  fif  One  aalfpeany, 
the  price  at  whidi  tliey  were  sold;  aud^ 
secondly,  to  the  Penny  AIolanHcks  published 

Paoe  377,Ndte  127.~Colonel  FuHarton 

Page  377,Note  123,'— Mr.Cnnnuighara, 
in  his  edition  of  Bums,  gives  a  very  mterest- 
iiig  note  leapectins;  the  ^charinin^  lovely 

the  YoiiDgest  daughter  of  l)r.  Davies,  of 
Tenby,  in  Pembrokeshire,  and  a  relative  of 
the  Uiddels  of  Friars'  Caree,  She  died 
young,  under  the  distress  of  mind  couseqiient 
on  the  neglect  of  a  lover, 

Paqb  379,  Note  129,— Grose,  in  the 
introduction  to  liis  "  Antiquities  of  Scotland," 
acknowledges  his  obl^ations  to  Burns  in 
the  foUowmg  paragraph,  some  of  the  terms 


,t  only  I 


the 


irthy  of  notice  in  Ayrshire, 
the  country  honoured  bj  his  birth,  but  lie 
also  wrote,  expressly  fOr  this  work,  the 
prelli/  tale  anneied  to  AJloway  Church  : — " 

Tliis  "pretty  tale"  being  "Tam  o* 
Shanter," 

Pags  379,  Note  130.— Sirs,  Eiddel,  of 
Woodlee  Park,  near  Dumfries.  Her  maiden 
name  was  Maria  Woodlee,  or  Woodletgli, 
of  Woodlee.  Another  Mrs,  Riddel  (she  of 
Friars'  Carse]  was  also  a  friend  of  Buriis's, 

Page  379,  Note  131.— The  Philosophy 
of  Natural  History. 

Page  SSO,  Note  132,— Ab  allusion  to  an 


Hosted  by  Google 


COIlRESrOSDENCG  O?  BUHSS. 


admoniCory  letter  n 
byBi 


n  W.  Nicd, 

80,  Note  133.— Mr.  Nicol  had 
purclmseiJ  a  smsll  piece  of  grnnnil,  ealled 
Id|^a,  an  the  Nilh.  There  took  iilace  the 
bacchanalian  scene  which  called  forth"Willie 
Brewed  a  Feck  o'Maut." 

PaOB  881,  Notb  134.— This  letter  wb» 
communicated  by  Mr.  Gilchrist,  of  Stamford, 
to  Sir  Egerton  Brydges,  by  whom  it  was 
publislied  ia  the  Cemara  Literaria,  in  the 
jear  179H. 

Page  384,  Notb  13S.— The  lengthr  eor- 
respondence  ivliidi  fMSiied  between  Mr.  G. 
Hiomsim  and  Uohert  Burns,  ori^uatcd  ill 
the  cimmutances  re&rred  t«  in  the  Brst  and 


Dsnally  elegant  collection  of  Che  national 
music  of  Scotland,  applied  to  the  poet  for 
his  aid  in  improving  the  ton^,  many  of 
which  were  unworthy  of  publication.  Bum^ 
with  that  enthnuaam  which  he  cnletCained 
on  the  subject  of  Scottish  music,  entered 
heartily  iuto  Mr.  Thomson's  views,  and 
contributed  about  sixty  songs  to  the  work. 
The  lelleta  which  passed  between  the  poet 
m  are  here  given,  as  pre- 
ation  by    tl^   latter,  and 


and  Mr.  Thoni! 

Besented  to  the  public 
r.  Cnrrie,  wno  prefaced  tl 


the  former  eEForts  of  the  pastoral  mnsea  of 
ScotlanrI,  and  which,  if  we  mistake  not,  may 
be  safely  compared  with  the  lyrie  poetry  of 
any  age  or  country.  The  lettera  of  Mr, 
Bums  to  ilr.  Tbomson  include  the  songs  he 
presented  to  him,  some  of  which  appear  in 

letters  will  be  found  to  eilubit  occasionally 
his  ootious  of  song;- vritir^  .and  his  ojndioDS 

These  opinions,  it  will  be  observed,  were 
called  forth  by  the  obserTationa  of  his 
correi;iondent,  Mr.  Thomson;  and  without 
the  letter)  of  this  gentlemen,  those  ofBurus 
would  have  been  often  unintelUjible.  He 
has,  therefore,  yielded  to  the  earnest  request 
of  the  trustees  of  the  bmily  of  the  poec,  Co 
suffer  them  to  appear  ui  their  natural  order ; 
and,  independently  of  Che  illustration  they 

S've  to  the  letters  of  our  bard,  it  is  not  to  bo 
mbCed  that  their  intrinsic  merit  will  ensure 
them  a  reception  from  the  pi^lic,  far  beyond 


E3 

what  llr.  Thomson's  modeaty  ^vouU  permll 
him  to  suppose." 

Hi.  Georire  Thomson  was  bom  at  lime- 
kilns, in  Fife,  about  the  yeu  17^9,  aud 
educated    at    BaulT,    his    father    being    a 

places.  Through  the  recommendation  c^ 
Mr.  Home,  (he  author  of  "Douglas,"  he  waa 
admitted,  in  1780,  to  Che  oRlce  of  the  Board 
of  Trustees  for  tlie  EncouraoBment  of  Manu- 
^Cures  in  Scolknd,  as  their  junior  clerk: 
and  he  is  now  (1838),  after  a  lerviee  of 
fifCy-eight  years,  priniapal  clerk  to  the  Board. 
His  iiatiirol  taste  for  music  was  cuttivated, 
■ly  years,  al 


Cecilii 


<a  used  to 


tho^e  days. 

Mr.  'I'homson'a  CoUec^on  of  Scottish  Ain, 
first  designed  about  1792,  was  not  coniplet«d 
for  many  years :  it  has  been,  in  fact,  the 
employment  of  the  leisure  hours  of  tha 
better  part  of  his  Ufe. 

Mr,  Thomson's  work  k  entitled,  "A 
Select  Collection  of  Original  Scottish  Airs 
for  the  Voice:  to  which  are  added,  Intro, 
dnctory  and  Cancludiog  Symphonies  and 
Accompaniments  for  the  Fiano  Forte  and 
Violin,  by  Pleyel  and  Koai '     ' 


.    hy    1 


London t 


dition  being  in  folio,  and  mioCher  in  Sroi 

Paqe  335,  Note   138.— We  have  been 
nformed  that  Bums  marked  his  loathing  of 


Th     C  mmtBi 


and  deatiniei 
At  !  should 
to  withhold 


I  Bums  and   its  author, 
iCcem  myself  culpable  were 


'"The  illusU-iaus  soul  timt  hasIeFC  amot^t 
I  the  name  of  Burns,    has    often   been 


atood  up  with  the  stamp  of  superior  intellect 


Ho,t,db,  Google 


S30  NOTES 

on  his  brow  1  »  visible  greatness :  miH  great 
uid  patriolio  subjaeti  would  only  have  cnlle.1 
iiito  actioo  the  iwwers  of  \m  mind,  wl.ieh 
lay  insetive  »Uile  he  played  calmly  luul  ex- 
qiliaitily  tbe  pastoral  pipe. 

"'TbeletteHtontiichl  have  nllnded  in 
my  Preface  to  the  "Kiiral  Tales,"  were 
friendly  watninga,  pointed  irilb  ioime.liate 
reference  to  tlie  fate  of  that  extraordinary 


(I  hate  it  troia  henetfl  who  leinonsl 
with  him  on  bis  danger  ttom  drink,  am 

Hplied ;— "  Jfadam 


TO  THS 

"Who  comes 
My  cot  ah. 

with  woe  St  this  drear  a 

kTedidOM^dehsht, 
11  yield  her  room." 

ght 

"Alasl  thou  beard's 
That  once  waa  prisi 

Think  of  tbe  ring  by 
Thou  gav'st  to  lov 

a  pilKTira  mourn 
libytliee; 
yonder  burn, 
and  me," 

"Dnt  should 

St  thou 

ot  poor  Marion 

kn 

of  ray  eon- 
la  rejfretied 
ler  slices  of 
hive  hsted 


.  jr,  if  I  did 
tbem.  I  nuuf  give  them  a  t 
aWtution."  How  much  is  it  noi 
tbat  he  did  not  ^ve  them  I 

£*QE  391,  NuTK  139.— Thii  letter  ii 
eorreelly  dated,  according  to  Chambers'; 
BrrangBiueoJ,  in  the  year  1793.  The  allnsiom 


PiOB'Sai,  Note  140.— .At  the  head  ot 
thia  letter  wa.^  a  transcribed  copy  of  the  two 
lorigs,  '■  Puirtitli  Cauld  "  end  "  Gala  Water," 


ig  part  of  tliis  volume,  amongst  the 

Paue  832,  No*e  1*1.— Tiurd  mn  ot 
Alnandei,  fifth  Earl  of  Kellie,  by  Janet, 
danghtec  of  the  celebrated  physiKan  and 
wit,  Dr.  Pitciiin.  Mr.  Erskine  was  a  wit 
and  a  poet,  and  tbe  anther,  in  part  of  a 
ouious  and  rare  rolame,  entitled  "  Letters 
between  the  Hon.  Andrew  Snkine  and 
James  Bosirell,   Esq.,  London,  1763' 


adty. 


"  Ah  ope,  Lord  Grea;ory,  thy  door ! 

A  midnight  wantterer  aigha ; 
Hard  rash  (ha  rams,  the  tempests  roar. 

And  lighlaiDgs  cleave  the  skies." 


Far  kinder  than  tliy  heart," 

"  It  is  but  doing  justice  to  Dr.  Walcnt  to 

Mr.  Bums  saw  it,  liked  it.  and  immediately 
wrote  the  other  on  the  same  subject,  which 
is  derived  from  an  old  Scotliah    ballad  of 

PiOE  393,  NoTK  143. — In  do^ng  thi» 
letter.  Bums  here  transcribed  and  ap[teiided 
ballad  of   "Lord  Gregory,"  r"  " 


a  the  tf 


ongst  the  poems. 


hiished  in  Mr.  Thu 


i   following 


dale 


Paub  39*,  Note  liS.—  I 
recent  account  ot  Clariiida,  written  in  tea. 
1837,  appears  in  a  note,  to  the  Memoir  of 
Lord  Craig,  in  "Kay's  Eilinbnrgli  Portraits," 
and  will  be  read  with  interest  i>y  all  aduiiren 
of  the  poet  i — "  It  may,  perhaps,  be  worthy 
of  nniice  tliaC  Lord  Crai;;  was  cousin-germiti 
ot  Mra.  M'Lehose,  the  eelobrnted  CUrmda 
of  Bums,  whoisstillliviniin  Edinburgh,  and 
was  left  an  annuity  by  his  lordship.  She  is  uov 
nearly  eighty  years  of  a:;e,  but  enjoys  ex- 
cellent health.     We  (bund  her  aittiiis  ui  the 


been,  became  animated  and  mtelbgeat. 
'  I'hat,'  siud  she,  rising  up  and  pointing  to 
an  engraniig  over  the  mantelpiece,  'la  a 
likeiiCis  ot  my  relaUve  (Lord  Cray),  about 


harll     Aftetalitae 


Horsburgh,  after  Taylor, 


Hosted  by  Google 


COEKESPOSDEXCE   OF  I 


bii;hl;  gnitiGed  by  the  intei 

Page  394,  Note  146.— 

fanciful  bearings  was  acta 


poel,  a 
Lis  Ufe 


a  profile  of  the  poet,  i«  Jit.  Cunning 
edition  of  Butna,  vol.  viii.,  p.  1E8. 
Page  894,  Note  i47.—Tlie  poel  here 


Whaievei 


Jl  divide  ua, 
ly  Eonovr  and  pain 


nought  9 


Pace  3D5,  Note  149.— In  Di 
edition  of  Biims'a  works,  there  precede  two 
additional  letters  before  tllis  one;  but  aa 
tbese  coHHst  absolutely  and  eutirelj'  of 
ttansetipts  of  tbe  two  aongs  "Ob  onen  the 
Dooc  to  Me,  O  !  "  and  "  Jessie,"  teapecuvely, 
it  liU  sultiee  simply  to  refer  the  reader  to 
those  aougs,  as  tiiey  wdl  be  foutld  amongst 
thB  poems;  and  to  add,  Uiat  tbey  were 
written  for,  and  first  pnbUshed,  in  Mr. 
Jliomson's  ooliection. 

Paqe   39S,    Note   ISO.— "  WanderinR 
by  Mr.  Erskine  and  Mr. 


Thoniaon. 

«  Here  awa,  there  awa.  wsndi 
Here  ana,  tbeie  awa,  baud 


S  Willi 


Winter  winds  blew  loud  and  caul'  at  oui 

parting. 

Feats  for  my  Willie  brought  tcara  mmyee. 

Welcome  now  aiinraer,   and   welcome    my 

Willie, 

As  simmer  to  nature,  to  Willie  to  me. 

Best  ye  wild  storms  in  the  eave  o'  yotir 
Blnmbeia, 

How  your  dread  bawling  a  lover  alarms  I 
Blowsjft  ye  breeaes!  roll  gently  ye  billows! 

And  waft  my  dear  laddie  ance  mair  to  my 

Paoe  398,  NoTB  151.— Tbe  neit  com- 
municiition  of  Bnms  to  Mr.  Thoiiiaon, 
(namely,  that  which  mtertenes  between  let- 
ters No.  sea  and  2ii3,)  marked  No.  XVUL 


riludes    to    David   Allan,    punter,  usually 

ence,  coiiBialed  merely  of  the  songs,  "  Tbe 

called  the  Scottish  Hogarth.     He  «'as  bora 

Soldier's  Kelnra,"  end  "  Meg  o'  the  Mill," 

at  Alloa,  in  1744,  and  educated  ihrongh  the 

tesnectivel  V,  to  be  found  in  tbe  accompauyiug 

kindness  of   aome    generous   ladies.      His 

edition  of  llnras's  Poetical  Worts. 

serious  paintings  are  not  much  admired;  but 

Page  S9B,  Note  153.—"  Hums  here  «ill. 

he  had  a  happy  knack  at  hitting  off  Scottish 

himself  tlie  'Voice  of  Coila,'  in  imitation 

rustic  figures.    At  bis  death  in  1796,  he  left 

B  series  of  drawings  illustrative  of  Suras's 

'Voice  of  Cono.'    •  Sae  merry  as  we  a' baa 

ivotkB. 

been ! '  and  "  Good  night,  and  joy  be  wi' 

Page  395,  Note   148,— An  old  song. 

you  a'l'  are  the  naiuea   of  two  Seottisb 

tunes,"- COHRIB. 

"Here  awa,  there  awa.  here  awa  Willie, 

Paoe  3U6,   Nora  153.— "  Several  of  tha 

Here  awa,  there  awa.  here  awa  bume; 

alterations  seem  to  be  of  little  importance  in 

Lang  have  I  sought  thee,  dear  have  1  bought 

c  sublime,  than,  mde-roariag. 


W  left  on 


iver,  it  eivca 
Lo  well  adapte 


I  Che  ideas  ot 

unposed  to  deprecate.  Prom  the  original 
oiig  of  Here  awa,  Willie,'  Bums  has  bor- 
3wed  nothini  but  the  second  line  aud  part 
f  the  first.  The  superior  excellence  of  this 
eantiful  poem  will,  it  is  hoped,  justi^ 
le  different  editions  of  it  wbicb  we  bai« 


Paq] 


,  Note  154.— Thia  was  aubse. 
.  ..itly  etfectcd  to  the  mutual  satisfaction 
oth  of  Burns  and  of  Mr.  Thomson,  and 
ill  be  gathered  from  the  poems  m  question, 
i  printed  in  the  foregoing  part  of  this 

Page  397,  Note  15S.— "  Mr.  Thomaon,  it 


Hosted  by  Google 


NOTES  TO  THE 


ill  it!  oitereil  state.    It  does  nut  appear 

Testreeq  I  got  b  pint  of  wine 

Yestreen  lay  oq  this  bteast  of  mine, 
Ttie  gonden  locks  of  Audi. 
It  19  highly  chatacterislio  of  our  bard,  but 
the  strain  of  sentiment  does  not  correspond 
with  the  air  to  which  be  proposes  it  should 
be  allied." — Cukbib. 

Paob  397,  Note  156.— Alluding  to  the 
tune  when  he  held  the  form  of  Elli^kiid,  as 
leuant  to  Mr.  Miller. 

Paob  397,  Note  157.— This  gentleman 
most  obli^nglj  favoured  the  editor  with  a 
perfect  copy  of  the  original  letter,  and 
allowed  him  to  lay  it  before  the  pnblic.  It 
is  partly  printed  ia  Dr.  Currie's  editiaii,— 
Craubebb, 

"  It  will  be  necessary  to  state,  that  in  con- 
le  poet's  freedom  of  remark 


public 


usly  m 


ented 


lo  the  Board  of  Extase,  he  nas  i^presented 
u  actually  dismissed  from  his  oiuce.    This 
report  induced  Mr,  Erskiue  to  Drocase  a 
»nbacripti<m  in  his  tiTOur,  whic 
hy  the  poet  with  that  elevatioc 
tlial  peculiarly  characterised  li 
which  is  so  happily  displayed 
'■-    ■  ■■      toB.Gts- 


1793, 
than 


urthet  e 
1,  ofM 


1  by  Bums, 
ceustoioeil  pathos  and  eloquence. 


Mt. 
3  life  a 

noted  Whig,  became  Earl  of  Jlar,  in  1824, 
in  consequeiice  of  the  reversal  of  his  grand, 
(htber's  attainder.  He  died  August  20, 
1325,  aged  eighty-fOar. 

PaQe    SB9,  Note  IBS.- "The   or^al 
letter  from  Mr.  Tbomsoti   contains  many 


The  snWf[uent  letter  of  ill.  Burns  refers  to 
Beieral  of  these  ot>seTvations." — Cukrib. 

Paqe  399,  Note  169.— "The  reader  lias 
elready  seen  that  Burns  did  not  finally  adopt 
all  of  Mr.  Erskine's  alterations."— CURBIiE. 

Pao  400,  Note  IflO.— "The  song  to  the 
tuue  of  ^Bonnie  Dundee'  is  that  named 
'Jessie.'  The  ballad  of  the  'Mill,  MUl  Of 
is  that  beginning,  '  When  wild  war's  deadly 
blasts  are  bliwn.'  '■— Cdrkie. 

Paqk  400,  NoTl!  ISl.— I>i^,  a  Scottish 
(lOpulai  term  for  ears. 

n inn     1.1 too       m,.    ,|,gg    [|^g 


Paoe  400,  Nor 


lued,  is  that  published 


Oh    ken   ye  what    Meg  (y  the  Mill  ban 

"TTiis  song,"  says  Mr.  Thomson,  in  an 
or^nal  note,  "  is  surely  Mr.  Burns's  own 
writing,  though  he  does  not  generally  praise 


Note   163.— The    aii 
that  far  wUicli  he  wrt 
ballad  of  Bomie  Jean. 

Page  400,  Note  164.— The  o 
version  of  the  aong  enclosed  with  this 
difered    somewhat     materially    Itiia 


n  tbel 


s  our  poet  had  maintained  a  long  silence, 
id  the   first  number  of    Mr.  Thomson's 

jitured,  by  Mr.  Erakiiie's '  advice,  toBul>- 

'  And  eyes  again  with  pleasure  beam'd 

That  had  been  bleared  with  mouriui^.' 

Though  better  suited  to  tlie  musics  these 

fines  are  uiferior  to  the  origiuaL     This  is 

the  only  alteration  adopted  by  Mr.  Thomson, 

' '  '   Burns  did  not  approve,  or  at  least 
;  to,"— .Curb IB. 

JE  403,  NoiE  16G. — A  remittance  of 
five  pounds. 

Paoe  404,  Note  167.— Katherine  Rutbet- 

rd,  of  Feriiilce,  in  the  county  of  Selkirk, 

lo  married  Mr.  Patrick  CocUmrn.— She 

ed  full  ofyears  in  1794. 

Paqb  400,  Note  168.-"  Gloamin'— twi- 
light, probably  from  glooming.  A  beautiful 
-  leiK  word,  which  ought  to  l;e  adopted  in 

nglaud.    A  gloamio'-sliot,  a  twilight  inlet. 

Page  406,  Note  169.— The  poet  insert* 
e  song  of  "  Damty  Daiie,"  which  it  seems 

.  .miuunicate.  Bums  had  previously  com- 
municated, for  Jiriinson's  Museum,  a  song 
.  the  same,  the  stanses  of  which  conclude 
with  the  awkward  eipression,  "llie  gardener 


'    and  ti 


Paob  406,  Note  170.— ThU  Miss  Craik 
is  the  dai^hter  of  Mr.  Craik  of  Arbiglaud, 
the  Slewarlty  of  Kircudbright, 
Paob  407,  Noie  171.— The  dowager 
lady  Gleiicairn,  widow  of  William,  thirteenth 
Bail  vS  Qtencoim,  and,  consequently,  mother 


Hoifdb,  Google 


or  3itmn,  the  fourteenth  Earl, 
beiC  patron. 

Pahs  407,  Notb    173.— ladj    Harrii 
"  ■■       daughter    of   the    DmvBgi 


CORRESPOSDENCK   OF  EtmNS. 
id  Banis's 


Coi 


iT  Oleii. 


snth    Eatl  of   Glencaim.     Tlie    liltle 

Boivaeer  Countess'a  eraiidson,  then  a  child, 
HDd  afterwards  better  knomi  for  his  nrhaiiity 
and  acwmplishments,  as  Sir  Aleiander  Dou, 
of  Newton  Doiv 

PaQB  410,  Note  173,— "Mr.  Thomson'a 
list  of  songs  for  bis  publication.  lu  his 
remarks  the  bard  proceeils  iu  order,  and 
foes  through  the  whole ;  but  on  many  of 
them  he  merely  signilies  his  approbation. 
All  his  remarks  of  any  importance  are  pre- 
sented to  the  reader."— CUKKIE. 

Page  410,  Note  174— "This  alteration 
Mr.  Thomson  hu  adopted  (or  at  least 
intended  to  adopt),  instead  of  the  last  stanza 

Page  411,  Note  175— It  is  very  sur- 
prising thst  Bums  should  have  thought  it 

M  song  to  this  air,  nhicb  is  one  of  the 


PaQE  411,  Note  176.— The  song  I 
which  Bums  here  alludea,  is  one  of  which  t 
afterwards  sent  a  perfected  copy,  and  whic 
was  published  in  Mr.  Thamsau's  coUectioi 
The  lirsC  line  runs  thus  :— 
Where   are   the  jojs  I  bae  met  iu  tl 


mcceasCul  as  tlie  majority  of  his  eompositions, 
and  the  original  words,  to  the  same  tune  for 
which  he  had  hiteuded  to  adapt  them,  hftve 
outhved  his  newer  version,  and  still  continue 
to  retain  thBC  former  popularity  and  prefer- 
ence. Indeed,  they  are  actually  more  spirited, 
and  possess  more  essentially  poetical  spuic, 
than  the  hues  supplied  by  Bums. 

Paoe  413,  Note  177.— "  Mr.  Thomson 
has  very  properly  adopted  this  sonj  (if  it 
may  be  so  called)  as  the  bard  presented  it  to 
him.  He  has  attached  it  to  the  air  of 
'  Lewie  Gordon.'  and)  perhaps,  among  the 
enisling  airs  he  could  not  find  a  better ;  but 
the  poetry  is  suited  to  a  much  higher  strum 
of  musw,  anijmay  employ  the  genius  of  some 
Scottish  Handel,  if  any  such  should  in  future 
arise.  The  reader  will  have  observed,  that 
Bums  adopted  the  alterations  proposed  by 


1,    with    great    readiness;     perhaps, 

t  nstance  however  he  reji^ted  them, 
1  repeated  v  ui^ed,  n  th  determined 
ion.  W  th  «  ery  reapect  for  th« 
;nt  of  Kir  Th  mso  and  h  3  friends, 
f  be  sat  sfied  th  t  he  d  d  so.  He, 
1  preparing  for  an  engagement,  at- 


in  the  ranks  of  battle,  where  the  liberties  of 
a  kingdom  are  at  issue.  OC  such  men  the 
conquerors  of  Bannockbum  were  not  eom- 
posed.  Bmce's  troops  were  inured  to  war, 
and  famihar  with    all    its    sufferings    and 

day.  their  spirits  were,  without  doubt,  wound 
up  to  a  pitch  of  enthusiasm  suited  to  the 
oocasion ;  a  pitch  of  enthusiasm,  at  which 
danger  becomes  attractive,    "'    "' "   — ' 


n-rible. 

come '  mgy  be  supposed  well  calculated  to 
elevate — to  raise  their  hearts  high  above 
teat,  and  to  tierve  their  arms  to  the  utmost 
pitch  of  mortal  exertion.  These  observations 
might  be  illustrated  and  supported  by  a 
refereru^  to  the  martial  poetry  of  all  na- 


Tyttffii 


of  General  Wolf% 
m,  that  '  Welcoma 
your  gory  bed,' is  a  discouraging  address, 
ims  not  suflleiently  considered.    Perhaps, 


ing  oceasioD,    seeks   aiwaya    to  pr 
picture  that  is  vivid,  and  is  unifbrmly  i 

of  the  imagination.    And  it  is  the  ] 
of  superior  genius,  by    producing 


works  of  oar  immortid  Bhakespcare ; — 
'Who  would/onteZj  bear. 

When  he  himself  might  hb  juicUa  mako 
V/ili,  i  bare  indimf 

It  were  easy  to  enlarge,  but  to  suggest  such 
reflections  is  probably  sufficient. "—OulIniE. 
Paob  418,  NuTE  178,— Burns  hero 
alludes  to  the  melancholy  death  of  the 
Honourable  A,  Erskine,   respecting  which 


Ho,t,db,  Google 


Thomson  hfld  mritten  ths  poet  a  moat  feeling 
letter.  Thoinaon,  from  a  mistsken  sense  of 
delicacy,  withheld  this  letter,  when  it  eubse- 
quenely  fell  into  his  hands. 

Paob  413,  NoTB  179.— This  Mr.  Gatin 
Turnbull  had,  io  17S8,  published  a  volume 
of  poems,  entitled  Poetical  Essays.  TliB 
work  was  pnhlished  at  Glo^ow,  snd  enjoyed 
■littleof 


NOTES  TO  TilE 


.   ITiepi 


:  which 


Bums  himself  quotes  at  full  length 
'etter,  are  really  rety  insileqnite  to  the  bril- 
iant  eul(^y  with  which  he  accompaniea 
i —      1  ..J  :.  — >.i ..  jf  jij,  prqudice 


them.  And  it 
in  fevour  of  an  old  acquaij 
ilia  better  judgment  and  taste 
very  rarely  guilty  of  such  mispr 
Paob  *14,  Note  180.— In 
edition  is  inserted  a  tetter  frc 
Thomson  immediately  followii 


which 


hefore  the  ne 

letters  of  Mr.  Thomson.  As  tne  letter,  Wo. 
49,  io  Dr.  Curiie's  edition,  however,  con- 
sisted merely  of  transeripts  of  the  songs 
"Wilt  thou  be  my  Dearie,  0\"  and  "Husband, 
husband,  cease  your  stnfe,"  both  of  which 
are  inserted  amongst  the  poems,  1  did  not 
think  it  necessary  to  re-insect  them  in  the 


in  of  a  I 


.    Tliel 


re  thus  ii 


itifieda; 


.  ecially  tor  Mr.  Thomson's  col- 

Paqb  415,  NoTB  181.— Bums  here 
alludes  to  the  well-worn  Scottish  banlL  notes. 

Paoe  415,  Note  182.— A  preseui,  con. 
■iating  of  this  edition  of  Ids  own  poems,  as 

tublished  in  1793,  which  were  despatched 
y  Bums  with  this  letter. 
Pase  415,  Note  183,— B  has  been  sup- 
posed that    (his  letter   was    addressed  to 
Caot^in  Bflbecison,  of  Lude, 

pAiiE  415,  Note  184,— Btuce's  address 
to  his  troops  lefote  the  Battle  of  Ban- 


Seot's  ■ 


i'  Wallace  bled. 


Pagb  41S.  Note  185,— "Tlie  lady  to 
vhofli  the  bard  lias  so  happily  and  justly 
applied  the  quotation  in  this  letter,  paid  the 


her  poetical  talents 
Aiend  to  Bums,  ii 


Paoe  418,  Note  187,— The  same  as 
stated  in  the  foregoing  Note,  number  186. 

Paoe  418,  Note  188.— This  gentleman 
held  the  office  of  DisEribuCor  of  Stamps  at 
Dumfries,  Bimis,  who  at  first  lived  io  the 
floor  above  hia  office,  formed  an  intimacy 
with  him,  which  lasted  till  the  death  of  the 
poet,     Mr.  8jme  was   on  agreeable  table 

the  effusions  of  which  were  sometimes  mis- 
taken for  Bums's,  He  died  at  his  house  of 
Ryedale.  neat  Dumfries,  November  24, 1831, 
in  his  seventy-seventh  year, 

Paoe  413,  Note  189.- Boms  here 
alludes  to  the  song,  of  which  the  first  line 

Oh  wat  yenhat's  in  yon  town. 

And  which  was  composed  in  honoat  of  Mrs. 
Oswald,  of  Auchincraive. 

Paqe  431,  Note  190,— M(.  David  Mao- 
cnlloch  is  no  longer  liviu!;.      One  of  bis 

letter,  married  Ut.  Thomas  Scott,  brother 
to  Sit  Walter  Sciilt, 

Paqe  422,  Note  191,— Dt,  Come  objects 
to  tlie  eipression  "ruftian  feeling."  He  aug- 
g^ta  tl  ■   '■ ■  "    -'  '   ■---- 


keeping  w 

1  do  not  exactly  agree  in  ms  criticism,  nor 
do  I  think  that  the  eipression  in  the  test  is 
loo  "ruj^'ed  an  epithet "  Ibrthe  sense  which 
Burns  evidently  intended  to  convey.  It  is 
one  of  the  essential  beauties  of  the  poetry  of 

upon  the  most 


sajs  too  ranch,  and  as  rarely  too  Uttle :  a 

many  of  our  most  polished  jwets,  and  of 
which  Shakepeare  is  the  only  piue  example 
in  English  literature. 

Paoe  433,  Note  192.- "This  TTrgiliaii 
order  of  the  poet  should,  I  think,  be  dis- 
obeyed with  respect  to  the  aoug  in  question, 
the  second  alansa  eicepted." — Notb  bt 
Jin,  Thomson. 

"Doctors  dilTer.  TheRbjectton  to  the  second 

aljuisa  does  not  strike  the  editor," — Cubkie. 

Pagb  435,  Note  193.— Our  hard   had 


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COEaESPOSDENCE  OP  BUKS3. 


letter,  had  previonily  been  pnbUahnl  b' 
Johnson  in  tlie  Scolt'  Musical  MmfKr 
Mr.  ThomBon,  suspecting  the  &u^o 
hud  mquiied  of  Burns  it  they  vere  hia 
posittoii. 

P*QE  426,  Note  195.— The  nime 

Page  426,  Note  19G.— "The  reade 
be  curious  to  see  this  poem,  so  highly  iitai^d 
bfBuiua.    Ileitis:— 
'  Keen  bUws  the  wind  o'er  Donnoeht-Heed, 

mie  gaberluiiEie  cirli  aiy  sneck, 

And,  shivering,  lells  his  waefu"  tale. 
"  Canid  is  the  night,  oh,  let  me  in. 

And  dinna  let  ;Our  mmaCrel  fa.'. 
And  dinna  let  his  windiug-aheet 

Be  naetliuig  hut  a  wreath  o'  Boar. 
"Full  ninety  winters  hae  I  seen. 

And  pip'd  where  gor-cnclcs  whirring  flew. 
And  mony  a  daj  I've  ilaue'd.  I  ween. 

To  lilta  which  from  my  drone  I  blew." 
My  Eppie  wak'd,  and  soon  she  cried, 

■*  Get  up  guidmaTi.  and  let  him  in  i 
Tor  i.eel  ye  ken  the  winter  night 

Was  short  when  he  began  bis  din." 
My  Eppie'a  voice,  oh  wow  it's  sweet, 

Even  thoi^h  slie  bans  and  scaulds  a  vee; 
But  ahen  it's  tou'd  to  aortow's  lale, 

Oh,  liuCh,  it's  doubly  dear  to  me  I 
Buld  carl,  I'll  steec  my  fire, 


In  pride  of  beauty's  light 


I'U  make  it  bl«B 
Tour  bluid  is  thin,  ;i 


"Us  then,  'lis  ihea  I  i»ake  t(>  life  and  joy!" 

PaOb  423,  Note  !99.— Burns  here  ailudea 
to  Mrs.  Whelpdale,  whose  maiden  name,  Jean 
Lotimer,  ia  more  familiar  te  our  readers. 

Paob  428,  Note  200.— Mr.  Thinnaoa 
must  have  eompLetely  miauoderstood  the 
character  of  this  old  song.    It  Is  »  most 

laiiKuage. 

Page  428, Note  201.— -See  the  song, 
in  its  first  and  best  dress.  Our  bird 
remarlis  upon  it ; — '  I  cuukl  easily  thro* 
this  into  an  English  mould;  but,  to  my 

pastoral  aoiig,  a  spriukling  of  the  old  Scottish 
has  an  inimicahfe  effect' "—CuBBiE. 
Paob  431,  Note  202.—  " 


ia  ftiei 


rmpathy  for  his 
the  world  of 


.  Mr.  Perry  (the  proprietor  of 
aaomcte),  Mr.  MUler  re. 
nat  gentlepumthe  insulliciency 
ary  to  answer  the  ioipwioiis 
a  fumdy.    In  their 


Its  were  nearly  lost  to 

these  gentlemen  agreed 

if  senling  him  in  Londou.    To 


turned  my  ha' ; 
ve  of  life. 


I  wauder  throojjli  a 

"  ITiis  affecting  poem  is  apparently  incom. 

own  himself.  Il  is  worthy  of  Dunis,  or  of 
Maciieill." — Cdkbib.  [It  waa  written  by  a 
gentleman  of  Newcastle,  named  I^kcrmg.] 

Paqe  428,  Note  197.— Mr.  Wlaoo,  who 
had  published  a  collection  of  Scottish  aonga 
io  London. 

Paoe  427,  Note  193. — ''Variation: — 

Or  up  the  heath;  mountain,         [stra^ 
The  hart^  hiud,  and  toe,  freely,  nildly-n'wCon 

His  lay  the  linnet  pouts ; 
Thelav'rockiothesl^ 
Ascends  wi'  aangs  o'  joy,  [day. 

"While  the  aim  and  thou  arise  to  bless  the 


Burus'a  reasons  for  refusing  this  offer  tia 
staled  in  the  present  letter." — Ceckdek. 

Paoe  432,  NOTB  203.— In  Burns.'a  neit 
communication  to  Mr.  Thomaoii,  marked 
No.  LXIX,  in  Currie'a  series  of  their  cor. 
reapondenci^  ha  merely  transcribes  the 
compound  song,  inserted  in  his  Poetical 
Wotka.  under  the  title  of  "Oh  lassie, 
art  thou  sleeping  yetf"   and  adds,  "1  do 

Paqe  433,  Note  204.- Dr.  Ciirrie  wu 
bnm  in  liip  n«ghhoHrhood  of  Ecelefechan, 
ami  with   ine    cbataeteristic    prejudice  in 

Burn)  mtut  have  been  exceedmgly  tipsy  to 
have  ao  maligned  the  place. 

Paob  433,  Note  20S.— At  the  bead  of 
this  letter,  Burns  had  inserted  a  copy  of  the 
soi^.  entitled  an  "Addresa  to  the  Wood, 
lark,"  to  wiiicli  he  alhides  in  the  £tst  two 
lines. 

Page  434,  Note  206,— Two  verses  of 


Hosted  by  Google 


JJOTES  TO  THE 


The  very  shail* 
Now  U  ■■     ■ 

Deserted 
Ah!  n'lier< 


ikeftes 


'0  my  heart : 


IT  lih  Iniihta]  aae,  escb  mom  to  deck 

The  altars  of  uugrsteful  love? 
Tht  flowers  of  spring,  how  gnv  they  hlonmed 

When  lust  with  liim  I  waoilered  here  I 
The  floweri  of  spring  are  paaaeii  aivay 

For  wintry  liorrota  dnrli  ami  dH*r 
Yon  osier'd  stream,  hy 


neighhoiu'  of  the  poet's  tt  Damfriei  railed 

greatly  disappointeo  in  the  irregular  dehveiy 
of  the  paper,  of  TAs  Maniuin  Chruidcte 
Bums  asked, '  Why  do  not  you  write  to  the 
editOTs  of  the  paper?'  ' Good  Ood,  Sir, caa 
/  presume  to  write  lo  the  learned  editors  of 
a  uewspapet?'  'Well,  if  you  Rre  Efraid  of 
writing  to  the  editors  of  a  newspaper,  /  am 
not ;  Bud,  if  you  thint  propei',  I'lL  draw  up  a 
sketch  of  a  letter  which  you  moy  copy." 


My  10 


Cold  as  my  false 


to  rest. 


Paob  434,  Note  S07, — Mt.  Heron  is 
sometimes,  indeed  frequently,  spok^  of  aa 
Mr.  Heron  of  Keiroushliet.  His  proper 
desifnaiion,  however,  was  Heron  of  Heron, 

Paoe  434,  NOTB  208.— These  hallada, 
which  relsted  to  Mr.  Heron's  contest  for  the 
repteaeatation  of  the  Stewortry  ol  Kirkcud- 
bright, will  be  found  amongst  the  poems  iiL 

Paqk    433,    Not  I!    209.— Butna    here 


Forlorn  my  love,  no  comfort  near. 

Paqe  437,  NoTK  2S3.— The  lines  to  whi 

Bnms  here  refers,  and  wliicli  he  had  trf 

Mrihed  at  the  head  of  his  letter,  are  tlu 

which  comoience  respectively  as  foUous  :- 

Last  May,  a.  braw  wocr. 
And. 

"Why,  why  tell  thy  lover. 
Pagi  438,  Note  213,— This  gentlem 


e  h-wk, 


■lid  instantly  produced  t> 
have  transcribed,  and  which  is  here  printed. 
The  poor  man  tbanked  him,  and  took  the 
letter  liome.  However,  thiit  caution  which 
the  natchfubiess  of  his  enemies  had  taught 
him  to  eierciae,  proropied  him  to  the  pru- 
dence of  begging  a  friend  to  wait  on  the 
person  for  whom  it  was  written,  and  request 

was  complied  with,  aud  the  paper  never  ap- 
peared in  print." — Cuomek. 

Paoe   440,  NoTB  21S.— The  novel  ea> 


Still  nnuous  to  secure  your  partial  &vo 
And  which  had  been  composed  especially  for 
Miss  Fonlenelle.    Tiie  lines  wdl  bi  ' 
length  amongst  the  poems. 

Paoe  43S,  Note  KIO.— The  . 
Bhich  this  letter  referred,  formed  the  intra-    . 
duction  to  the  letter  itself,  Burns  having 

Iranscnbed   them    at    length.    They  

those  which  respectively  bejrin  **  Ho« 

are  the  parents,"  aud  "  Mark  yondet  pomp 

ofcostlyfasli^-    " 


Paqe  442,  Note  218. — No  subsequent 


le  last  Slid  fatal 


iNoTE  220.— "In  this  1 
manner  did  poor  Buru^ 


which  he  had  ci 


pally  the  fom 

Eributed,  griAttitevsl^,  not  leaa  man  xm 
unp'otal,  ullered,  md  eoUicted  aonga  I  Tba 
Editor  has  seen  ISO  transcribed  by  liis  OWQ 
hand  fi)r  the  Muaea/a." — Ceovse. 

Page  445,  Note  221,— It  is  truly  poin. 
ful  to  mention,  that  tl^  request  uas  tat 
granted. — Cii  ameers. 

Page  445,  Note  222.— Just  before  his 

of  receiving  a  most  satisfactory  eKpianation 
of  Mrs.  Uunlop's  silence,  and  the  warmest 
ances,  that  if  any  tbin^  aiitaioanl  tlmald 


Hosted  by  Google 


Bmrily  infRciently  prove*  bow  nobly,  gene- 
ions^,  and  devotedly  Mn.  Dunlop  kepc  ber 
promise  to  the  poor  dying  poet 

Paoe  44a,  NoTi!  223. — Mr.  James  Bnt- 
ncaa  im  mediately  complied  with  the  request. 

Page  446,  Note  224.— The  «on~  ot 
vbich  ISuros  here  allndea,  19  that  of  vbicit 
the  initiatory  line  runs  thus : — 


the  V 


I  feel 


bodily 


Mrenstli.  Mt.  Syme 
could  not  have  been  in  toy  danger  of  a  jail 
at  Dumfriea,  wliete  certainly  be  had  many 
firm  friends,  nor  under  any  such  neoeasity  of 
imploring  aid  from  Edinbiugh.    But  about 

unietlled,  and  Che  horron  of  a  jail  per- 
petually haunted  his  ituagioaCioD.  He  died 
on  the  21st  of  thi;  montli," 

Pagb  446,  Note  225.— Tbs  pecuniary 
drcamstances  altendiiig  Mr,  Thomson's  can- 
neclion  with  Bums,  sjipesr  liable,  at  the 
present  day,  to  mudi  misapprehenaon.  This 
(-entleman,  whose  work  lias  ultimately  met 
with  ■  good  sale,  seeias  to  bo  rcg:ardcd  by 
some,  as  an  enriched  man  who  measured  a 
Btinied  reward  to  a  poor  one,  looki 
greulcr  recompense:  and  several 
hiie  on  th  s  Eroimd,  spoken  of  him  in 

When  Be  go  hack  to  the  time  ot  the 
respondenr- ■■-- "■ -"'' 


ig  for 


id  the 


in  which  the;  came  to  stand  towards 
wh  oilier  tha  conduct  of  Mr.  Thomson 
Bsumea  quite  a  different  aspect.  Ue  and 
lurus  were  enlUuaiasts,  the  one  in  music, 
lie  other  in  poetry ;  they  were  both  of  1 


.--    ^  ..      .  mited 

rising  families.  Mr.  Thomson, 
!pec£  of  profit,  engaged  ia  the 
preparation  of  a  work  which  was  designed  to 
■et  forth  the  music  of  his  native  land  to 
every  possible  advantage,  and  ot  which  the 
paper  and  print  alone  were  likely  to  eiuaust 
his  very  moderate  reaonrces,  For  literary 
aid  ui  this  labour  of  lov^  he  applied  to  the 
great  Scoltiab  poet,  who  had  already  gra- 


^  Johiisi 


Musical  Museum,  Mr.  Thomson  offered 
reasonable  remuneration,  but  the  poet 
scorned  the  idea  of  recompense,  and  de- 
clared he  would  write  only  because  it  gave 
him  pleasure.  Nevertheless,  Mr.  Thomson, 
in  the  course  of  their  correspondence,  ven- 
tured to  send  a  pecuniary  present  whichj 


Ithough   not  forming  an  adequate  lecom- 

bich  such  men  might  be  apt,  at  that  period, 
5  offer  and  accept  from  eairfi  other.  This 
lurii!,  with  hesitation,  accepted,  but  ateraly 
irbade  any  further  remittance,  protesting, 
liat  it  would  put  a  period  to  their  correapond- 


poet  accepted,  fiurna  nItimaCely,  on  aii  emei> 
gency,  requested  a  renewal  of  the  former  re- 
mittatus.usni;  such  terms  on  the  occasion,  aa 
showed  that  his  former  scorn  of  all  pecuniary 
rsmuneiaiioB  was  still  a  predominant  feeling 
mhis  mind.  Jlr.  Thomson,  therefore,  aentthe 
very  sum  asked,  believii^  it  lie  presumed  to 
send  mote,  that  he  would  mn  a  greater  risk 
of  olfending  than  of  gratifying  the  |>Det,  in  the 
then  irritable  Btele  of  hia  feehuga.  In  all 
this,  we  humbly  conceive  tliat  no  unpreju- 
diced person  at  the  time  would  have  seen 
grounds  for  any  charge  against  Mr,  Thomson. 
It  ma;  further  be  remarked,  that,  at  tlie 
time  of  the  poet's  death,  though  many  soii,^i 
had  been  written,  only  sin  had  been  pub- 
lished, namely,  those  in  the  firat  half  volume 
■o  that  during  the  life  ot  the  poet,  tha 
puhlishn  had  realised  nothing  by  the  songs, 
anil  must  have  still  been  greatly  doubtTul  it 
he  should  ever  recover  what  he  had  already 
expended  on  the  work.  Before  man;  more 
of  the  emigs  had  appeared  in  conueetioa 
with  hia  muaic,  the  menda  of  tlie  poet'a 
family  had  resolved  to  collect  his  vorks  for 
publication;  upon  which,  Mr,  Thomson 
thought  it  a  duty  incumbent  on  bun  to  give 
up  the  manuacripta  of  the  whole  of  the  songs, 
together  with  Ilie  poet's  and  liia  ovn  letters, 
to  Dr.  Currie,  that  they  might  form  part  of 
the  edition  of  Burns'a  worlra.  The  full 
benefit  of  them,  as  literary  compositions.  wa« 
thus  realised  for  the  poet'a  /amils,  Mr. 
Thomson  only  retaining  an  eieluaive  right  to 
publish  them  afierwanU  in  connection  with 
the  music    And  hence,  afl«r  all,  the  debtor 

;,Tcat  as  it  is  apt  to  appear.  No  further 
debate  could  arise  on  this  subject,  if  it  were 
to  be  regarded  in  the  light  in  which  the 
parties  chielly  interested  have  regarded  it. 

trace  of  a  auapicioa  that  his  correspondent 
was  a  selfish  or  niggardly  man ;  and  it  is 
equally  certain,  that  his  surviving  family 
always  looked  on  that  gentleman  as  one  of 
the  poet's  and  th«t  oivn  kindest  friends. 


IS  f^,  not  lutherto  know 


Ho,t,db,  Google 


KOTES  TO  THE  COHRESPONDENCE  OF  BURKS. 


tbe  public,  nor 


tli&t  tl 


i  five  pounds  bi 


to  Mr,  Thomson  himi 


n  wliich  the  poet 
borrowed  shoitt  the  same  time  from  bts 
cousin,  Mr.  Surueaa  of  Montrose,  wai  not 
madeiueof  on  the  occasion,  but  that  tbe 
bank  orders  for  both  sunu  remained  in 
Burna's  l^ouse  at  the  time  of  Lia  death.  Tbis 
is  proved  by  the  foUoiving  docuuiKit,  for 
which  we  are  indebted  to  Mr.  Aleiander 
Macdonaid,  of  the  Genera!  Register  House, 
Edinbiugh  i — 

"  'Rie  TesCanient  Datiie,  and  Intenlory  of 
tlie  debta  and  sums  of  money  whicb  were 
justly  owing  to  nmquliite  Robert  Burns, 
ofHcer  of  excise  in  Dumfries,  at  the 
tiuia  of  hia  deceaa^  Tis.  tbe  21st  day  of 
July  laat,  ^thfulty  made  out  and  given 
Tip  by  Jean  Armour,  widow  of  the  said 
detnnct,  and  exeoutrii  qua  relict  decerned 


dated  16tb  September 
funct. 


ubydo 
mry  of  Dunifriei 


Tiiere  was  justly  owinp 
at  the  time  of  his   de 


uid,  Ct 


and  Co.,  hi 


nc,  dated  tlie  11th 
by  Sir  Wilham  Forbes 
n  EdinbuTKh,  to  George 
'Anomson,  payaaie  ou  demand;  vbich  uole 
is  by  the  said  Geocgs  Thomson  indorsed, 
payable  to  the  defunct ;  Item,  the  principal 
■um  of  ten  pounds  sterling,  cmitained  in  a 
draft  dated  the  ISth  Jidy  last,  drawn  by 
Bobert  Chrisile  upon  the  manager  for  the 


Co.  in  Edinbui^b,  in  favonr 
ness  or  order ;  which  draft  is 
imes  Burneaa  indorsed  payahle 

le  debts  owug  to  the  defunct, 


instituted  for  confirmation  i 

itbin  the  bounds  of  tbe  said 

Dumfries,    understanding 


nd  a]]  others  having  or  pretending  to  have 
nterest  in  the  matter  underatitten,  &c.  &c„ 
decerned  therein,  &c„  and  hi  his  Majestyii 
lame,  coustitule,  ordain,  and  conflrm  the 

he  defuuct,  and  in  and  to  tbe  debt  and 
urns  of  money  above  written. 
"  At  Dumfries,  6th  Oct.  1790." 

-Ch  AMEERS. 

Page  447,  Note  aS6.— Alluflmg  to  en 
iffer  made  by  Mr.  Gracie,  a  banket  in  Dum- 
ries,  to  have  Burns  conveyed  home  in  a 

Page  447,  Note  237,-*Bnma's  fatber- 
n-law  (the  father  of  Mrs.  Burns). 

Page  447,  Note  223,— This  letter  was 
vritten  only  three  days  before  thedeittiof 
^bert  Burns,  and  is  the  last  of  the  written 
aeniorials  which  be  bai  bequeathed  la  Hie 


Ho,t,db,  Google 


B^erally  lika  Ihe  tuflnd  Enqllsh  n  In  ^i-tl-  The  H. 


Abi^cj}.    labrWl^ 


din^,  Ac.,  wtien  ^^ 


la.  'TalUnttldll. 
be^ran  wh4>pl:  nimiiiiU;r 


i^gee  oflhim-vArcls.  £ 


A  Copfl-HaDe,^^^ 


house  on  Fctmnliij}  (i. 
iiurh.    A  burgh. 


ap^EIBocCo 


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CflBlK,  or  GLaa.    boOiefl. 


how  of. 


■Bim.   CnMed.rra 


Ifrobwjnln. 
DIataUt.Iided,iniia 
D.'SS.rSS^  Ad. 


musly.    OkmMIj,  Hni-!riowte.   Wam  »Wi  grief, 
n^oiuly,  I    Gitl^B»£o.»hmlfujEep. 

Hm^^timra^nirhelipiTfi  I>nip. '  A  drop,  to  dn^ 
oF  bpaf>  matron,  ^-  \  Drupidllg.    Propplnfl- 

luiTlliL    CrtwUnft.  I    ahoulll. 

iraDmodl.    A  tPW  wltti :  "nliWo    nrtnltie. 
niniii.    Hard  ind  brLttle.'DKHMoa.    TnebRwch. 
)|irtl8ii  ot  bread  |Di«n>.        aumpod.    Out 

m  ttiB  l»,  pracUR^  ln|l>ab.    AnnoUpoad- 
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Bi'iS*—!,. 


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la  fld^l,  U  bLHILe- 
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lu^bat.  Tbedovcjor  nood-j 
bmlien  In  Uie  middle,  aj 


ft.  UvTTifriddTprODUBll-'Sn'.    End,  _ 
linnL    Kue,  now  ujid  EKAKVoa.   SDiVHiiBaa. 
hmi   dtdmcn  kkra-,  an  EneiT^li     Bnooflh, 
uofoom  now  Had  then.  Bawcul-    HapoLlally. 
Inty-     Pleanntk  ifood-  Btnc.  To  trv,  attompt 
inmDiired,  BRTfiaible.        Ejdentp   DiJ^«JL 


rff.orDuirk.    AdlT^ 


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GaeC,  Onllj  or  OatBi    yfig. 


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r.  BkhCBi^udtofmnf 


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a-^y,    uff  at    4   ild« 


laon.    Uad,  cnnklple  of 

oalii  Qf  LLr«Bt1an,nnt[iinK. 
loan.    Tiia  iiuupia,  Uc 

Hamiiii.        Ueirlr    fealT, 


^jppfir.  Hamper. 
Hopping.  HuppLnj, 
Hup,  GCep,  an' loup.    H(9, 


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riuHn-.  TrtMi,  iaSfltt. 


Dk.    To  fKiiipi  to  lura  m 

iiket^  IhnttnmtKiaiEayt 
«  anj  ■prijiiUy  gill,  > 
aldii'.   Dodging. 

vhtch  Includ^^^both  tlia 
ppnlloflHaiid  DE  iL  larca 


clikvoDB  BplTltB,  said  to 


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in  £n|^lih  n^nln  ai 


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ItHplucU'  Properlj-acoane 


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BdocU    srundH  Ukewl 

elflof  lluf  iwi'hl«UT 
ILatrt.    Itolto^,  wrapped' 


Biiirlf,Dr^u3e.    amdr. 


Bkelpl4[ii:bmer- A  wDd  I'iH, 
BiKlpin'.    Sttpp'—  — "■'"' 


GLOSSAEY. 


>Ove.     To  AO    NDOOtll] 


mallrur  airm»1  porrld<?. 


ilnmn  and  hoonu. 


BUJiehl. 
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lurt.   Troulllc^iloiiialaL 

e.  smniii.  r%iiicd. 

[ce    nolw   of  viDi    or 


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.    flaggy,  fiiU  of 
b1u(.  or  pool'i  a  knot  Im 


lidinknSBlmil.  Sj 


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jFinis. 


Hosted  by  Google 


IppiiMx. 


Ho,t,db,  Google 


Ho,t,db,  Google 


ttHm  nf  Clrainta  k  ®nni0. 


pjrmpart  icilh  Lellirs  Nos. 


FOR    ME.    ROBERT    BURNS, 


■cime  malignant  foceiloom  Imd  determined 
tbat  we  should  not  meet,  and  that  none  of 
our  little  arrBuf^Dients  eliould  be  consnm- 
maled.  But  if  1  lament  the  disappointment' 
■  ■  ■  '    m  enjoyiug 


that  delicate  "  r 


e  ptomised  rayaelf  in 
leh  more  keenly  da  I 


even  choked  in  the  eartieaC  incipient  develop- 
When  f  ou  Rattec  me  with  the  idea  of  bdng 
a  favourite  of  yonts,  you  Httle  know  "  how 
subtle  ia  (he  unction."  I  bave  longed  and 
longed  that  Miss  Nimmo,  who  was  blessed 
witik  your  acquaibtanee,  woiLld  have  imparted 

•  As  will  he  noticed  in  the  foregoini  Notes 
to  the  Correeiiondence,  in  respect  of  the  tii«t 

been  cngaKca  lo  take  Isa  with  Mrs.  SlOchose 
on  tbc  eui  Ilburedav).  She  had  then  deferrea 
the  entertainment  of  the  poet  until  this  day, 


1  and  gentle  friend.  That  I  am 
lately  food,  nay,  even  "abandoned" 
the  word!)  to  poetty,  is  true ;  that  I 


alive,  but  as  paetiy.    Do  no     hi  k  m 

It  is  a  poet-e  adulation,  and  aa  r<   ( 

observe,  "Fictioa  is  the  regi        f 

poetry."   I  doubt  even,  if  ten  ea        m 

life,  1  should  have  anSered  m  se  h 

"befooled"  by  even  such  be»   it        mp 
and  musical  praise  as  yours 

But  now  for  my  own  poe  ca  ip  ra 
or  for  my  own  elaim  to  poe  ca  p 
lAok  over  the  fullowine;  k 

admit  that  they  possess  a  g  in    erse 

ejLcept  the  spirit  of  poetry. 
[HerefilUw  the  -Lints  toaB     tb   d 
Do  not  forget  to  let  m    h  er 
fiom  you,  or  both,  as  often  as 

(be  addition  of  font  lines  of  his  own,  appeared 
in  the  Seaii  Umical  ifussum. 


Ho,t,db,  Google 


LETTEBS  OP  CU2INDA 


coDBOte  myself  va 
thought  of  what  g 

ta  dsUy  accumula 


he  world 
I  by  this 

ny  diseppoiiitmeut  by  (he 
atiacatiuu  is  in  store  tor 
:nBation,thiit  this  pleasure 
log  mlensity.      Adieu. 
A.M, 


FOR  MR.  ROBERT  BURNa. 
2  SL  Jania  Sq«are, 

Sec.  \6th,  1787. 


and  fnLlow  hia  directions,  jt 
liderably. 

What  letters  yon  write! 
you  are  addressiug  a  love-b 


only  in  temporary  separation— a  widow  of 
the  heart  rather  than  of  the  law  ? 

You  are  not  likel;  to  play  Jacob  over 
agsiii,  and  serve  your  seven  years,  and  yout 
eeveu  yeaia   again,  in  eipectation  of  ihia 

know  yourself;  at  least,  I  think  not.    But 
do  let  me  entreat  you  not  to  fatigue  yourself 

Dp  with  eidtement.  1  can  rely  upon  daily 
intelligence  of  you  through  Miss  Niuimo ; 
■'       ■  ■  -0  anything  to 


Tow  lieaven' 


1.  85,  p.  30^.] 
■c.  201&.  1787. 


it,  thoroughly  reiid  youi 


have,  if  I  in 
ir  character 
_  have  pereeiv 
id  high-mind' 


'.  heedless  of  the  inlerpTelali 
orld.  But  those  interpretatiinit- 
■uctions '.     Do  they  not  require  aomo 


with  much  reproof;  for  "undisdphned"  as 
they  be,  they  are  as  much  a  part  of  what  I 
am  obliged  to  admire  in  your  character,  as  is 
that  indomitahlo  independence  which  dis- 
tinguishes yoa  itself, 

I  am  much  joyed  to  hear  that  you  are  so 
greatly  improving  with  tespect  of  your 
woond — hut  as  to  calling  you  a  "stupid 
fellow,"  I  do  not  tlunk  either  you  or  I  would 

meaning  to  the  ei'pression.  1  have  proposed 
to  myself  a  more  pastoral  name  for  you, 

the  sirrillness  of  the  Etirick  Pipe.  What 
say  you  to  SyleajideTf  I  feel  somewhat  less 
cesUaiat  vhea  I  aubscribe  myself 


[itepfj  to  ielKr  Ua.  85,  pp.  309,  303.] 
Let.  2l)t,  1787. 


town,  which  will  I 
to  Dr.  Gregory,  i 


lat  I  should  first  re 
of  the  severer  disci 
ibject  my  natural  fo 


good  whicli  characterises  all 
rts,  did  I  acknowledge  or /eel 
pif.  Ko,  no!  Sylvander,  that 
rd.    1  am  not  siikappg  I    The 

which,  I  fain  would  shudder. 


bhadh- 


,  and 


a  ediUons  oX  tills  Correspond- 


Ho,t,db,  Google 


pW,  In  the  retrospective  glance  at  them, 


d  to  chasten  those  keen  sensibiU- 
ich  I  am  made  up,  and  to  make  me 
of  the  real  enjoymeiita  of  lite  ae  I 
I  have  sought  Keligion,  nor  hsve 
'■  --   — ■-     And  could  you  but 


catch  a  glimpse  of  her  m  >u<;  ucuigu,  =. 
garb  and  aspect  in  which  she  has  ans 
to  my  appeals  of  aoiTow,  you  would  foi 
'    'ler  the  teil,  ultimate,  xndonly  camfi 


On  my  return  here,  which  1  espect  will 
take  place  ttiwards  the  middle  of  neit  week, 
that  is,  afler  Christmas  day,  I  will  reply  to 


.,..  coteKorically ;  but  do  lu 
oirespondence,  for  innocent  i 


nhuae  vulgir  minds  are  incapable  of  i 
commmmn. — Farewell  I  may  God  hi 


{Compnre  leilh  the  lost,  i.f.  Ko.  4.] 

Jamuiry  lit,  17D8, 
Tnis  shall  be,  at  all  events,  a  partial 
fullllraeot  of  the  promise  by  which  I  hound 
myself  iu  my  i^B^  to  treat  of  your  letwr  a 
little  mure  at  leugth,  and  more  caie^^ically, 
Iu  the  brat  place,  however,  let  me  leQ  you 
that  I  have  been  paying  a  visit  to  a  country 
friend  of  mine,  who  runs  complete  riot  iu  Iiet 
praise  and  admiration  of  you,  and  whose 
personal  endowments  and  charms  would 
1.  .ike  her  &  truly  worthy  Clatmla  to  such  a 
liylciiiuler.     You  hai  


'.  of  Mrs. 


;   take  some   occasion,   sooner 
:.  of  mating  you  personally  acquainted. 


rtof&lavolu 


list  Dr.  Gregory  should  have  found  mins 

■.d  at!  Tlie  faults  I  had  observed  myself; 
they  were  jiart  of  the  verses,  and  1,  aa 
pable    of   amending,    as    1    had    been 


I  thinl 


erely  that 
of  convers 

'  righlly  iiu 


rpret  you 


agreeable  n 


ithout  a  mixture  of 
...    ,.    .  How  little   do  the 

majority  of  the  children  of  the  world  feel  or 
appreciate  the  sentiments  of  love  and  friend- 
ship !  How  coarsely  and  constantly  do  they 
Lsapply  the  one,  and  desecrate  tbs 


onld  be  in 


other  1 

lliat  a  gentle  sentii 
tably  commingled  in  th 
the  sexes,   where   delicacy   of   sentiment, 
e;ttreme,  nay  exquisite  sensibility  and  lofty 


ititled,  in 


re  appelli 


n  all  tl 


pursuits  of  Hellish  gre^iiciitiDn ;  that  it  ii 
demoted  solely  to  the  elevated  purpose  of 
conveying  real  happiness  to  its  object;  in 
fact,  that  it  is  honest  and  unpolluted.  In 
such  a  manner,  why  should  not  an  intercoutsa 
of  sympathy  and  intelligeuce  eiiat  between 
those  of  different  seiesV  I  would  frankly 
avow  that  I  think  it  might,  and  does  in 
perfect  innocence;  and  I  do  not  feel  that  I 
should  be  bound  to  discard  even  the  term 
whicli  implies  the  utmost  tenderness. 
""      '  """lid  we  reject  the  c""""""' 


i  by  eii 


illy   that  the  purest  philosophy 
(1  mean  sd  m  is      b     cquired. 

Hody  nteflected  n  h  s,    h  d  h  ected 


of 

charact 

h       mrabang 

fes 

d 

h        dp       d    ha 

an] 

ohgi 

dm 

n          d  h       been 

pel 

d      da 

p               d      row 

Sc 

h    ol 

seD  po          he 

world. 

the 

peculiar  bent  of  that 

sion( 

orripblfl  for  good,  or 

capable 

olmnn 

d  for  evil),  has  sub- 

ected 

t  to  the 

schooling,  tempering,  and 

subdui 

g  which 

reqnistte.    Thus,  by 

calLng 

religion  f 

ives,  our  fortune,  or 

fortune,  n 

ay  w 

di^inguieh  in  each 

hap; 

aes>   than  is  to   b« 

Ho,t,db,  Google 


550  LETTBES  OF  CLARISDA 

gathered  from  f  lie  sunny  field  of  B  perishable 
WhetefoK  da  1  tenderly  beliece  i 


tlie  trials  of  shich  yon  comftun?  But  to 
irhat  unlimiteil  extent  of  graiity  am  I  not 
lending  ?  Shall  I  not  thus  surfeit  you  of 
my  sentiments?  Will  yon  not  cODdemn 
our  correspondence  to  an  untimely  and 
abrupt  cessation,  on  accoimt  of  the  tedium 
nith  which  I  oppresi  you  ?  But  yon  should 
not;  1  feci,  and  must  express  alt  1  feel. 
1  know  no  rcserre;  atid  in  that  true  and 

may  eompsss  it,  though  it  be  tardily.  It  is 
your  fiuilt  to  dub  at  the  firat  impulse  of 

01  deprecate  the  turn  of  afFoirs,  from  which 
jon  are  to  derive  >1L  the  good  which  is  in 
■lore  for  you. 

"  engaged  in  reading  those  poemi 


in  which 


elibly  w 


I  will  inevitably  pprpetu 
lecord  of  your  foibles,  tis  well  S3  of  your 
loftier  qualities.  Do  ^rour  me  with  any 
scraps  you  can  spare.    Perhaps,  also,  from 

of  eipreseing  l)ie  ideas  which  they  suggest, 
the  merits  ahirfi  Iobsetve,oreven  the  faults 
whkh  I  may  distinguish.  How  much  am  I 
not  pleased,  that  Dr.  Gregory,  nhose  reputa- 
tion for  virtue,  as  well  as  for  genius,  is  so 
generally  aohnowledged.  should  be  numbered 
amongst  your  trusty  friends.  If  for  this 
alone,  I  ehonid  Uke  to  be  acquainted  with 
hint;  fortheremustbeajf  ne  j^mj^roi  that 
~s  kindred  in  na^  for  the  acceptation  aud 


;  of  your  cl 
.n  to  us  both. 
)k  upon  him  as  i 
Ithough  we  are 


riklieweenns.    Bu 
ivish  you  good  bye. 


cntiiei  to  the  lecord  of  our 


^iety  of  the 


lion,  and  makes  me  insuparably  melBucholy. 
It  is  the  season  of  household  enjoymimts  of 
home  happiness*  and  you  know  1  have  none. 
What,  wonder,  then,  if,  oii  receiving  yonc 
lines,  I  should  venture  upon  a  reply  "  in 
kind?"  Icammt  resist  the  impulse,  how- 
ever inadequate  be  my  capacity.    Look  to  it. 

[Tie  linet  opening,  -  Talk  »o(  of  Lone!  U 
gims  me  Pam,"  were  here  ijuejled,} 

I  have  not,  for  some  time,  heard  how  your 
recovery  proceeds.  Mis^  Kimmo,  even,  lias 
not  been  my  companion   of  late ;  and,  I 

progress  directly  from  youtselt    Does  it  not 


he  happy  to 

i  I  ought  t 

If  you  c 


T  not  dehghted,  my  dear  friend, 
:ters  of  last  n^t  1  I  do  not 
0  hvely  an  interest  aboold  ba 
e^s  heart  or  recollection,  by  the 
f  an  early  love-scens,  if  it  be 


lives     ITie 

an  iiiddeot 

^ult'oTth 

themind,is,iappre- 

liend,  the 

aiiigulirity  of   the 

feelmga    w 

icl)  accompany   it,    and    which 

t    kuow  whether  a 

greater  deg 

■ee  of  iuten 

!st  is  not  created  in 

me  by  the 

act,  that  y 

confidant. 

ndunroser 

edly  lay  bare  yoat 

foibles  and 

foUies  to 

me.    This  c-sniplets 

confidence 

dds  much  charm  to  your  letters. 

■sist  the  fu 

ness  of  feeling-of 

which   it  a 

ouses.    I  can  recsl 

similar  recollections  of 

my  own.    Nor  do  I 

Ho,t,db,  Google 


eqnsi  tbe  raptuTe  of  Ha  eerljr — s,  Snt  at 


Tour 


confinii 


in  adver 


.tyofCak 


awakened  by  some  of  yout  satirical 
poema.  Wherefore,  my  deit  Sylsandet,  will 
fou  impiipitheae  doctrinej  vhlcti  are  so  deu 
to  me  ?  You  should  uol  charge  a  creed  wilh 
the  flings,  naj',  even  the  knaTeriej  of  its 
professed  ministeis.    Where  will  yon  find  a 

ism  is  aiDongsC  m;  strongest  aud  dearest 
couvictiona,  aud  stands  con/jrmed  in  my  con- 
edeoce  by  ttie  beat  examples — that  of  au  an- 


;  and  devoted  friend 


la  affected  b_ 


wliom  I  have  i 

therefore,  doe! 
of  prqudice. 

My  lather  was  attadied  to  Armioianism ; 
and  I  niyaeif  continued  m  tlie  profeasion  in- 
culcated by  my  education,  until  the  friend  la 
whom  I  allude,  forced  conviction  upon  me  i 

fident  state  of  mind  and  hope,  since  the 
period  of  this  couvietion  (which  I  cettaiuly 
«n  do),  may  I  not  inter,  that  the  true 
mission  of  religion,  that  of  inspiring  forti- 
tude, long  BuAering,  confiderus,  hope,  resig- 
nation,  and  complete  peace  OC  mind,  i^ 
been  fulfilled  hy  this  means?  You  little 
thiuk,  Syllander,  how  deeply,  how  seriouily 
OHT  lives,  our  thooghta,  our  deeds — every- 
F  a  thorough  religions 
Bad  redecliou  for  me, 
10  hold  yout  «ell-beii^  so  dear, 

warped    the 

which  God  has  gifted  you, 
you  shnost  front  the  capability  of  patiently 
entettainiiw  thoi^ts  of  this  kind.  Would 
b>  heaven,  1  could  prevail  with  you  in  this  I 
Would,  that  you  should  seriously  try  the 
merits  of  such  objectioua  as  occuc  to  you  I 
Tet,  may  I  not  flatter  niysel£  that  my  Syl- 
vander  is  not  vithoat  esteem  for  my  ordi- 
nary judgment.  No  event  would  esercise  ao 
much  mduencB  for  my  gratificatioD,  as  the 
Imowtec^,  the  assurance,  that  you  would 
entertain  tbe  question.  Do  not  be  wearied 
with  m;  reflections ;  do  not  allow  yourself 
to  give  way  to  the  first  unpulae  of  ridicule. 
And  when  you  are  seriously  mclined,  and 
can  reason  with  loe  calmly,  and  leisurely, 
turn  your  attention  to  this  letter. 


a  mate  equally  ardent  in  love  with  yourself. 
Tou  say  yon  tear  the  improbabiUly  of  your 
meedng  with  such  a  companion ;  do  not, 
therefore,  be  ptecipitale,  leal  after  "  marrii^ 
in  haste,  you  repent  at  leisure."  I  have 
many  things  to  say,  which  I  would  fain 
write ;  but  it  is  an  endless  afEoir  to  write  the 
long  storiea  which  might  be  uttered  in  > 


January,'  1783. 

I  HATE  been  equally  diaaiipoinled  with 

yourself.    I   had,  as  you    know,  promised 

myself   "a  glance  of  recognition,"    which 

should  he  mutual  from  the  window  of  your 


The  a 


.  .  .orthB 
last  three  or  four  nights,  I  have  had  littie 
time  for  n-at.  The  "  bottle  "  ha»  evidently 
not  impaired  your  mtelleet,  or  your  feeUnga, 
but  I  should  think  your  companions  had  not 
been  eiactly  to  year  taste  t  and  I  t^e  it  ai 
a  moat  unpremeditated  coEnplimenl,  that 
yon  should    turn  from    those  ill  assorted 


e  fulnei 


iv  of  fellow- 
fteling  with  mji-  own  intense  aensibility,  and 
that  the  m^onty,  consequently,  misinterpret 
the  warmth  and  unrestrained  overflowings  of 
myheartl  Mypoorchildi3fretfulagain,aad 
is  evidently  suffering,  and  I  really  do  beJiBv^ 
I  cannot  be  inythuig  else  but  a  good  and 
tender  mother.  What  should  you  think  of 
a  mean-spirited  woman  who  should  be  sur. 
prised  at  my  attachment  to  children,  whom 
1  owe  to  an  unnatural  husband  P  Such  was, 
however,  the  actual  exclamation  of  an  ac- 
quaintance yesterday,    I  could  not  restrain 


le  9th,  10th,  01  UUu 


Hosted  by  Google 


Bnnatnral  tomirda  tha  poor  helpless  innoceuC 
chUdreii.  Do  I  not  feel  that  I  owe  theia  a 
duubte  share  of  pareutat  love  ? 

Besides  this,  their  (ather'a  misdoing  ia 

apart  from  the  tender  tics  to  which  it  relates, 
would  constitute  a  bond  of  attachment. 
With  what  B  keen  relish  and  sense  of  grati- 
fication do  I  not  read  Fielding's  AmtUa. 
Yoit  have,  doubtless,  read  it>  and  have,  like 
me,  admired,  uey,  felt  the  damestic  tender- 
ness, which  could  only  have  been  portrajed 
by  one  who  deeply  felt  it.  Can  jou  not  ad- 
niire  a  Booth  in  his  ardent,  but  thoughtless 
attachment,  before  a  cotd,  ealculatiug  hns- 


Ilke  youl     I  eoiild  love  and  forgive  hit 
ehould  ihrink   with  abhorrence  froi 

Of  your  rehgious  reflections,  anon. 


LETrEliS  OF  (JLAKISDA 
*i»thofui 


have  entertained  for  aeveral 


he  peculiarly  nnlucky  in  onr  appointments. 

■"  ;  first,  second,  and  third,  in  which  I  pro- 
ed  myself  the  pleasure  of  your  company, 
■e  equally  fruatrat   ' 


a  dispensation 


which  Ehould  lead  to  a  mare 
mmunion  of  our  moat  seci«t 
thoughts  and  feelings,  than  would  hsva 
resulted  from  the  formalities  of  society.  I 
fancy  we  have  become  more  thoroughly  und 


ually    a 
hould  have 


,    than    WB 


and,  I  In 


re  have  both 


loomed  Eo  elude  the  rcaliiation ;  and,  if  the 
itrajige  destiny  which  presides  over  our 
neelmg,  be  at  last  ptopitioua,  this  afternoon, 
t  two,  1  will  be  revealed,  a»  I  am— your 


ir  other,  to  your  happine 
;ood  wishes,"  and  you  w 
as  constantly  alteiid  y< 
I  guardianship  whereby  c 
to  eiercise  its  never-fidling 


Janvary'  1788. 
The  morning  opens  anspiiHOusly.  This! 
the  first  bright  day  which  n'e  have  seen  thi 
week;  and  it  is  the  first  moming  also,  o 
which  my  poor  child  awakes  refresbeil  b 
cabn  and  uninterrupted  sleep  of  sonie  hour 
duration.  I  think,  at  last,  I  may  promis 
myself  the  fuliilment   of  the    eipectatio 


liting  gaae.  It  was 
vey  tha  topmost  St* 
la  a  more  deAuite  id 
to    search  ?     Somel 

It  did  n 


■dentlyw 


:h  the  f 


_..   either.    I  am  gratctiil  tor  your 

id  and  tender  inquiries  reapectinj  my  boy, 

en  if   he  recover.      And    patience  ia   a 

Of  the  coniersion  of  which  you  speak. 


raw  vi^ries  which  render  the  unbridled 

iversion  on  subjects  of  yet  higher  conse- 
eiice,  how  shall  I  glory  to  hare  elfeded  it  I 
But  why  the  wild  freniy  of  passion  with 
lich  youassut  me?   It  boota  Uttle  to  level 


Hoifdb,  Google 


imprecA(ioDa  at  tica,  nnd  laws,  imd  fogh 
for  what  if  they  were  not  ?      Think 
'twould  be  coiiduoTe  to  the  subetKitiol 
piness  of  Chuiada?      I  em   at  s   loa 
nnderatand  yoa.    But,  perhspa,  also,  't 
better  that  you  should  preserve  the  veil  of 
myattrn  which  it  may  not  he  fit  to  raise  from 
your  rhapsody.    Are  you  not  sati;lied  with 
the  unity,  the  integrity  of  a  ftiendehlp,  Chan 
which,  nothing  can  he  more  eatoeat,  pure, 
devoted,  and  immutahle  ? 


reality.    What  h 
upon? 
Why  do  you  !!■ 


s  to  depend 


parahlj 


her  on  earth  than  Miss  Nimmo,  who 
leems  to  tremble  for  every  mis-step  which 
your  impetuous  temperament  urs;ea  you  to 
take.  1  wonder  now  if  I  could  possibly 
refrain  from  writing  to  you,  and  from  laying 
hare  my  actual  aentiments;  for  I  write  some 
tecordi  of  feelings,  prompted  by  the  thought 
ofyoii,  whieh  never  leave  my  hands.  And, 
even  now,  I  would  send  you  some  Imea  which 


unoyed  for  my  freedom, 
jrreapondence  will  dwm- 


snd  therefore,  in  aom 
more  profusely.    Nevci 


isured 

that  yoo  can  never  rest  satisfied  or  happy, 
without  some  permanejit  object  of  attach- 
ment I  propose  Co  abandon  myself  in  my 
neit  epistle  to  one  of  my  rambling  preachings, 
and  to  discuss  religion  with  yon  again,  having 
much  to  obserie  in  rehcion  Co  the  sentiments 
eipressed  in  your  recent  letCer;  but  I  shall 
try  to  keep  myself  from  worrying  you  for 
some  days  to  come.  I  am  off  the  day  afler 
to-morrow,  with  my  poor  boy,  to  Leith,  and 
ahould  then  have  been  overjoyed  of  your 
company,  had  you  been  capable  of  joining  us. 
Tou  lire  a  great  glutton  in  reading ;  does  it 
happen  that  Sancho's  letters  have  fallen  in 

copy.   What  a  beautiful  piece  i>  the  epitaph 


without  1 


duclJve  of  an  equivalent  of  good  results  upon 
our  character.  Oh  that  i  had  only  half  your 
power  of  eipressiou,  and  a  little  of  that 
brilliancy  and  vividness  which  you  possess  I 
What  could  I  not  express  I      CLABinD*. 


JoKHory  12th,  ITSS. 
Ah  !  Sylvander,  at  last  hivo  you  seen  uui 
divested    of    those    imaginary    perfections 
wrought  up  in  your  own  fancy,  and  in  my 

"weiglied,  and  found  me  wanting."  And  I 
would  f^n  confess  that,  notwithstanding  the 
very  pressing  desire  which  1  had  to  enjoy 

leat  it  ahould  destroy  the  spell  which  attached 


dental  gratification.  Nor  do  I  helieve, 
Sjlvander,  that  such  enjoyment  is  reserved 
for  many  amongst  human  kind,  nor  for  the 
ftw  who  are  capable  of  it,  very  frequently. 
Why  is  It,  then,  that  1  have  not  alent?    I 

done  wrou|,  and  that  conscience  acquits  me. 
No  hmit  of  propriety  or  virtue  have  I  trana. 
gtesaed.  Still  have  I  some  indomitable 
dread,  lest  in  the  eye  of  the  Deity,  the  line 
distinctions  of  my  reasoning  he  susceptible 
of  revealing  something  which  might  lead  la 
displeasure.   The  idea  that  a  friend,  to  whom 

to  concur  in  the  propriety  of  my  conduct, 
and  the  dread  that  you  yourself,  Sylvauder, 
may  have  grown  to  think  less  well  of  me- 
al! these  things  continue  to  agitate  m; 
thoughta. 

Enough  of  myself.  Can  you  tell  on  the 
ground  of  what  predestined  privilege  those 
of  birth  and  rank,  that  is  of  genealogical 
disCinction.  who  possess  no  other  merit, 
assume  so  much?  I  cannot  admit  any 
reverence  for  rank  or  lineage  in  itselt    1  can 

of  giving  i( 


^naintance,  I  oidy,  with  the  e] 


Ho,t,db,  Google 


S5i                                    LETTERS  OP 

CLAKISDA 

Maty,'  entertgin  this  seemingly  lieterodoi 

or  Cato?    No,  no!  some  important  hon 

notion     1  must  lel&ie  you  at>  anecdote,  to 

was  wanting,  and  that  was  only  supplied 

TvhuhBlithisisfl-propoj.    On  Sunday  bst, 

the  revelation  of  ChriatianitJ.    But  I  mu 

between  ehurch  honts,  I  spent  my  time  with 

leave  the  snbjeet  now!   I  -ill  take  it  n 

again  from  time  to  tune.    But  now  I  ai 

of  my  Lord  Napier  happened  to  csU  et  the 

weary,  and  have  wearied  you.    FarewelL 

same  time.    I  knew  the  lady  well  hy  sight. 

Clabinda. 

bnt  was  so  disgusted  with  her  obtrusi.e 

her  coarseness,  and,  at  the  same  time,  with 

the  despicable  nduktion  which  the  lady  of 

the  house  offered  her.  that  I  was  even  more 

reserved  towards  het  than  I  otherwise  should 

hove  been.    At  idl  events,  I  should  not  have 

[KepJy  to  Lttter  No.  87,  pp.  304,  305. 

been  inclined  t«  bestow  any  particular  inatk 
or  attention  upoii  her;  and,  as  it  wis,  she 

Jfl^Wr,  nth,  1788. 

repelled  even  the  ordinary  courtesy  with 

I  AH  not  a  little  surprised  at  yonr  war 

which,  mlh  othtn,  I  should  naturally  have 

defence  of  Miss  Napier;  luid I  understan 

treotfid  her. 

she  has  merits  such  Is  you  describe.    Mo 

Byth 


vay.Iw 


:]l.Bt 


Mary;  I  think  of 
soon,  if  I  feel  a  little  more  fit  for  society ; 
I  daily  gran'  to  like  her  better,  and  Ch< 
undisguised  aduiiratisn  which  she  eipressei 

tional  hnk  of  attachment  between  us 
Wherefore  do  you  vainly  tmst  to  pillar  youi 
religion  in  a  good  hfe?  What  you  call 
"  rel^iim  of  the  bosom,*'  is,  in  my  estimation 
also  the  Dnli;  religion.  Hot  pardon  me 
Sylvanfler,  if  I  intimate  that  yours,  accordini 


head 

th 

n  a  "re 

irion  of 

the 

bosom.' 

Whatai 

ils 

fourimaguied  good  lif 

yo 

place 

yo 

rfnilreh 

nee  for 

'plation 

upon  the  redemption 

terrible 

ifice. 

by 

the  Son 

of  God. 

The 

i  th 

besto 

innocent,  mnst  be  polluted  by  eon 
stains;  and  do  you  vainly  hope  that  you, 
with  an  eieess  of  passion  and  sen»bility, 
will  he  capable  of  effecting  what  the  ste 

impress  upon  you  the  rehgion  of  the  G( 
which  i)  the  only  real  "  religion  of 
bosom."  On  all  pomla  of  general  morality 
ve  are,  doubtless,  agreed.  But  how  can  we 
be  othetwise  ?  these  will  not  bear  two  inter- 
pretations. But  look  to  it,  search  through 
the  philosophy  of  the  ancients,  with  all  its 
claaucal  beauty,  vitb  all  its  refinement,  with 
all  its  subtlety,  and  with  as  perfect  a  moral 
code  as  any  otlier  eiCant,  and  tell  me,  if  it  he 
not  barren  and  unsatis&ctoty  at  best  ?  Do 
you  really,  Sylvander,  discern  the  celestial 
consolation  in  the  bves  and  deaths  of  Socrates 
•  MiJS  Peacock,  who  subsequently  married 
Ur.  James  Gray,  of  the  High  School,  Edin- 


persona  are  pleased  with  her,  and,  perhaps, 
she  was  to  be  exoused  fot  not  attributing  as 
much  importance  to  Clariuda,  as  her  own 
Meuds  would  have  done.  Yet  there  is  a 
general  evidence  of  good  breeding  which  she 


linly  fmled  to  exbihi 


D  your  Epigram  on  Elphinstone,  it 
e  and  well  merited ; — a  more  am 
one  seldom  "       '      " 

re  of  y< 


humble  s 


the  pleasure  of  your  company  this  evening, 
or,  if  you  like  it  better,  to-morrow  evening, 
either  at  tea  or  about  eight  o'clock.  I  should 
mucli  hke  t«  see  yoa;  hut  I  should  prefer 
yonr  coming  on  foot,  ereu  if  you  should  be 
obliged  to  order  a  chair  to  take  you  back, 

of  people  we  ore  . 

You  have  a  magical  influence  over  me  i 
you  seem  to  possess  every  secret  clue  to  my 
most  secret  iiielmations,  thoughts,  or 
impulses;  and  if  it  be  possible  tor  letters  to 

sentimeuts,  they  are  yours.  But  whence, 
then,  can  be  the  charm  which  you  attach  to 
mine?  Do  you  really,  truly  take  pleasure 
in  these  wretched  scrawls,  or  is  it  merely 
a  self-^leception,  of  some  peculiar  partiality. 


:9a  the  unreserved  ao 


Ho,t,db,  Google 


with  the  lock   of 


TJarsAiy,  Janaary,  1738. 

I  CANNOT  help  ahiidJerinsr,  when  1  finJ 

myself,  for  aa  instant,  suffering  the  least  Li- 

(raction  of  the  stricteat  rules  of  propriety. 

I  shrink  from  myself  at  the  tliought  of  pos- 

For  these  reastma,  I  am  depressed  and 
uneasy  toJay ;  ever)  thing  about  me  appeirs 
gloomy,  and  Bad,  and  reproachful.  I  feel  a 
sort  of  dark  and  ill-deSned  remorse  for  what 
tranapheil  last  ni^ht,  and  I  would  conjure 

me  to  the  temptation  of  doing  oiiRht  that 
may  not  preserve  the  dignity  and  deliracy  of 
our  uiterCDurse.  Otherwise  n'e  sliall  destroy 
the  moat  irrefragable  bond  of  union,  whiidi 
ahouldhaveperpetUBtedourintercourae.  Yet 
we  shall  have  to  part  one  of  these  days,  and, 
piinful  as  that  parting  would  be  of  itself, 
how  much  nioi '■"  ''  --"-"  — -*" 


didanyin( 
the  mutual  a 


,S  totliei  ten^ 
im,  and  thus 


p  the 


with  proper  leaetve,  tint  is,  in  pteser?iog 
the  actictest  rules  of  conduct  which  1  have 
tram  the  first  prsBcribed  for  us,  would  much 
conduce  to  restore  my  disturbed  peace  of 
mind.    FureuclL  Clakinda. 


Tuesday  Eceninff,  JamaTS  39M,  1789. 
My  vebv  Deab  Syi,tani>ek — If  myap. 
leciition  of  your  sincerity  of  interest  in  tbo 
!al  welfare  of  yoar  Clarinda  bad  needed  an^ 


(hoae  stern  ba 


nihet 


sexes  within  the  sphere  of  arctic  frigidity, 
I  do  not  feel  myself  eonscioua  of  wrong, 
doipg,  nnd  the  retrospect  calls  uo  blush  to 
my  cheek,  nor  disquiet  to  my  heart.  But  wo 
must  assert  a  redoubled  caution  and  obaet- 
Tation  on  our  very  thoughts,  lest  we  admit 


t  dictates  of  ii 


Oh,  if  there  b« 


consoluion— whose  kindly  o 
erve  ua  from  the  Srst  inaidiou: 
may  they  guard,  watch,  ai 


danger?  Yet  can  you  tell  me,  Sylvander, 
why  this  confesaion  should  in  my  heart  ba 
associated  nith  an  idea  of  wrong  ? 

Is  it  not  that  I  feel  myself  irrevocably 
bound  to  another,  who  haa  forfeited  ali  claim 
to  the  love  which  ia  thus  left  desolate  ? 

I  will  not  complain  of  my  doom.    No  I 


•  unboaomed  myaelf  to  m 


Ho,t,db,  Google 


LETTERS  OF  Cl.AROJDA 


S  up 


betwe. 


t,r1in, 


uld  not  help  Ddmiriiig  liia  si 
I9  jiidgnient,  and  liis  benesolei 

his  toteiita ;  whilst  he  would  he 
cd  with  that  fresh  and  glowu 
tian,  tliat  exquisice  Kuaibility,  ai 


«ee  you  pursuing  ymir  present  indefinile 
career,  than  flnuly  settled  m  snme  desirable, 
pToGtahla,  and  competent  occupation.  But, 
Sylvsnder,  if  yon  have  a  weakness  ohove    1 


;  if  not 


likely 


a  lead  y 


Tivialicy,  which,  in  the  cnpital,  might  seduce 
you  from  the  direct  career  of  honour  aud 
respecCahiUty,  and  I  siiudder  at  the  thouj^ht 
of  your  being  despised  by  the  worldlii^s  of 
->  town,  in  which  nits  and  scholars.  nobLeoten, 
Mid  burgesses,  have  all  howed  down  and 
worshipped  you.  I  should  burst  with 
wiguish  at  the  triumph  of  maliciai 


Febraary,  178a 

Oh!  werelfree — tree  to  dispoae  of  those 

nd  tic5  which  bind  us  in  mysiecbus  sym- 

thies,haw  should 

not  reply  to  your 

arming  letter!     lo 

ly  dread  myself  wlieu 

Ihink  how  newly  I 

may  be  prompted  by 

eliugs.whieh.Iheliei 

nocent,lodo,oreve 

to  Hi«ft,  that,  which 

e  cidmer  reBeclions 

r;iog  on  guilt. 

What  hoots  it  th 

t  we  have  congenial 

heartm 


If  I 


althousrh  hia  claim  be  founded  re 
conventionality  than 


d,  they  are  to  impress  you  with  my  1 
Ideas  and  fervour  in  ii^*^n,  and  to  see 
provided  with  some  calhng  which  shi 
occupy  your  time  and  talents  in  suci 
manner,  as  ta  maintain  yaa  homwerabii/  in 
h^heit  social  po&ilioa  which  the  supremacy  of 
ymrgtana  his  alciiemd. 

I  fear  that,  in  being  revealed  to  thi 
whom  you  have  vaunted  the  "  divinil 
Clarinda,"  she  falls  sadly  from  the 
elevalion  of  her  ^ory.  You  (b^t,  ray  dear 
Sylnuider,  that  all  do  not  see  with  yo 
eyes,  hear  with  your  ears,  or  feel  with  yo 
■ensihihties ;  and,  therefore,  amongst  othen 
dread  the  judgment  of  Mr.  Ainslie  on  n 
account.    I  really  fancy  he  mnst  have  smili 

pity  for  wtiat  he  may  have  looked  upon 


ttsit  of  Mr.  - 
y  uneosy  for  n: 
<e  oblique  inue 


If  I  bring 
rayseii  Co  rencci  more  imparrially  on  my  re- 
lations, I  cannot  conceal  from  myself  the 
serious  cunaideraldon  thai,  however  ke  may 
have  forfeited,  by  wrong,  all  those  tender 
ties  by  which  we  are  hound,  although  his 
acts  shall  not  have  been  in  keeping  with  his 
most  sacred  promises,  such  dereliction  on 
his  part  can  never  dissolve  the  bond  by  which 
we  are  united,  or  eionerate  mi,  should  I  bo 
templed  to  retnrn  a  wrong  for  wrong.  No, 
no!  ThemosteleVHtedsentimentsofr^aid, 
sympathy,  appreciation,  nay,  even  attach, 
ment,  as  far  as  they  lail  Co  infringe  the 
promises  by  which  I  am  bound,  are  mine  to 
tieslow,  and  you  liave  possessed  them,  and  do 
possess  them ;  but  so  much  as  verges  into 
more  tender  and  less  qnalifiable  affection  is 
an  iintlainied  overflow  of  feeling — it  ia  true 

Giver  of  life,  and  to  him  it  must  he  devoted 
as  a  free-will  offering.  I  give  you  my  best 
" Sylvander,  yon 


k  for  ■ 


™ptinf 


■re,  lest  by 


joui  Boocty  is  all  ui  ail  to 


Ho,t,db,  Google 


T0B1 
the  (raniic  dresin  at  bliss  whidi  shall  illu- 

WhyarayounotsBtisfied?  Why  should 
not  the  elioLtation  of  such  a  declaration  from 
me,  ho  aulflciciit  to  gtatiiy  your  moat  ardeot 
wishes  ? 

I  liHow,  anil  feel  too  well,  too  keenly,  that 

which  was  ss  nnworthy  of  my  heart,  ss  it 
was  incapahle  of  satiafying  the  reiiUTiflaocy 
of  eager  senaihilitiea  of  which  I  am  made  np ; 
that  yonr  heart  was  capable  of  having  fui- 
ftllcd  the  taosC  ample  concepUons  of  mortal 
happiness  for  ' '    ' 


Clari 


I    for  t 


complet, 


identity  of  thoiighta.  feehn^, 

and  aiteotion!;  and  that  as  we  are  hopelessly 

should  dare  to  transgress,  I,  at  least,  cun 
never  be  Iiappy  in  this  world,  although  by 
subduing  the  swelling  passions  which  sorae- 


ot  bear  to  think  that  you  had  shunned  me- 
ou  will  „ot  forget  me.  There  will  surely 
!  aomething  in  the  daily  aspect  of  every, 
ling  about  you,  which  will  remind  you  of 
larinda ! 

Oh  Godi  is  to-morrow— to-monow  that 
last  day  on  which  we  shall  meet.— You  wiU 
come — you  will  not  desert  me  without  one 
last  meeting.  Early  in  the  day  I  will  do  » 
you  wish,  and  will  give  Miera*  a  sitting. 
Remember  this  shall  he  the  bond  of  eternal 
friendship  between  us — jeSi/rietidship :— do 
not  thick,  breathe,  or  utter,  a  more  tender 
attachment.  1  do  not  feel  that  I  should  be 
attended  in  sittUig  for  the  portrait.  I  should 
hove  been  glad  of  Mary's  company,  b«cuis« 
she  understands  me  thoroughly ;  but  she  ii 
in  the  country;  and  ttie  only  other  jjersoa 

Nim 


r  feeli 


rehellior 


:  of  mind,  which  otherwise  1 
-isibi 


your  own  sccouiit  of  yonraelf, 
jour  early  yeara,  as  you  ingennouily  revealed 
It  to  Dr.  Moore.  Amongst  all  your  early 
predilections,  whether  in  art,  literature,  or 
tiie  admiration  of  nature,  there  is  barely 

tiiB  same  poems ;  I  have  culled  the  same 
flowers;  and  seen  the  same  incoraparahle 
■ymmetry  in  the  landscape  or  the  linuameut, 

YbI  withal,  yon  see,  Sylvander,  there  is  an 
orer-rttling  doom,  an  everlasting  predesljna- 
taon,  which  has  forbidden  more  than  the 
recognitiou  of  these  sympathies  of  soul — and 
y/e  must  be  separated. 

You  will  leave  the  capital,  and  retire  into 
the  homely  retreat  of  a  peasant  once  more, 
whence  I  can  only  hear  of  you  by  letter, 
whither  my  heart  will  follow  yon,  but  where, 
probably,  new 


ifai]  qaoi  which  forbids  me. 

Ho*  could  you  rend  me  with  that  parting 
long!  It  is  too  much.  Even  you  could 
scarcely  have  equalled  the  tonching  appeal 

friend  to 

/may  mo"."    Would 

(hy?    Should  I 


And 


ss  the  lit 


1  possessed  in  your  recollection.     Pos»h1y  I 
bIuU  not  heat  from  you ;  and  the  ncit  ' 
-    ^'  -     MtiTOe! — itffillbeforet 


interchai^e  of  sympathies  which  must  draw 

How  I  dread  the  day  of  parting  which  is 
drawing  near  t  I  feel  as  if  it  would  be  the 
last  on  earth — as  if  we  should  not  meet  ^lin 


dirhiest  aympnthiea  of  humanity,  and  would 
noe  the  deepest  spring  of  feeluig  have  been 
unsounded. 

Oh  !  Sylvander.  how  deeply  do  I  regret 
that  I  hud  not  known  you,  before  you  pro- 
elahned  yourself  the  adversary  of  our  creed 
in  the  biting  satires  with  which  yon  have 
assailed  it.  if  the  hues  on  ReUgion  nhieh 
you  now  send  me  in  that  dear  letter  had 
been  of  earlier  production,  I  should  have 
been  yet  doubly  happy  in  you.  Would  I  noE 
have  im;dored  etenml  silence  and  forgetfhl- 
nesa  for  the  "  Twa  Herds,"  and  the  "  Holy 
Fair."  I  had  rather  admire  you  for  goodness 
than  lor  wit ;  and  your  genius  might  accoru- 
plish  as  mudk/or  true  religion  as  a  thousand 
l>reai:hers,  even  as  it  may  deal  a  fatal  blow  if 

I  wish  you  wonld  come  and  hear  Mr. 
Kemp's  preaching,  on  Sunday  next;  and  I 
am  convinced  tliat  with  all  the  rh^oricd 
skill  and  Bowery  diction  of  Mr.  Gould,  whom 

heani,  you  could  not  fmt  to  admit  that  Mr. 
Kemp's  elocution,  tliough  more  simple,  ii 

stranger  impresiion  of  earnest  couviction; 
and  tliac  whereas  Mr,  Gould  addcesiea  him- 


Ho,t,db,  Google 


LETTEES  OF  CLARINDA 


liad,  Mr.  Kemp  s) 
t  a  lui^uBge  too 
111;  iaterprec. 


coldly  HI 


at  them 


philosophy, 

earae&t  seal  m  religious  lorvour,  4.  uuve 
done  someChiii" ;  bui  how  fcetile  a  preacher 
am  1 1  And  ffeel  that  you  could  not  bur 
Hi.  Eeinp,  without  gaining  in  peace  what 
you  would  iiieviiably  oblain  ia  coavictioa. 
Let  me  entreat  yon  to  hear  him. 

nnburdea  myself  to  you  vith  a  degree  of 
freedom  whicli  my  heart  shrinks  from  ei- 
tending  lo  Buy  other  li?uig.  Let  me  ask 
your  a^vicK  You  well  know  who  it  is 
alone  who  really  possesses  any  eommunity 
of  tbonght  and  sympathy  with  me.  You 
must  huve  discovered  that  no  degree  of  kind- 
ness without  this  thorough  interchange  of 
myslerioua  sympathy  would  win  me  beyond 
«.  grateful  —  very  grateful — hut  reserved 
respect.  Well,  some  dme  Biuce,  when,  as 
you  have  heard,  I  cume  to  Edinburgh  friend- 
less end  unknown,  one  warm,  GiithFul,  earnest 
ftiend  attached  himself  to  my  ciuse,  allied 


and  defended 


Biswas: 


itthatsii 


to  observe,  guarded  an 
T,  closer,  and  more  secret  a 


him.    1  do  not  third 
to  know  this  for  son 


feelings. 


engih  of  til 


;  bud 


;   the  tender,  delicate   attentions 

which  I  received  at  his  hands,  combined 
vith  an  overflow  of  grateful  regard  for  his 
geaerous  and  profitless  aid,  hul,  in  some 
degree,  conveyed  a  d^ree  of  tenderness  to 
my  own  regard  for  him.  But  withal,  there 
was  no  deep  interchange  of  symi»ehies,  and 
OM  (yon  well  know  who],  meanwhile,  had 


trol  0 


r  all  my  most  seci 
with  my  sturdy  friend 

is  day  feeds  upon  pr< 


Whatc 
(pare  so 
enadayoi 


other,  1  shall  be  condeiuacd  I 


M  SylvBudet  ?    Yet  there 


perhaps 

equal 

nger  to 

our 

nintual  peace 

ofmmd 

nthi 

cannot 

I  cannot  dis- 

'^Z 

I  do  not  feel. 

andlsh 

udder 

at 

the  tho 

Sh 

of  allowing  a 

euis  shett  have  indomitably  conhrmed  it. 

The  thought  of  that  patting,  which  is  so 

listance  which  is  to  interpose  itself,  and  of 
he  new  associations  which  will  gradually 
rean  away  yonr  heart  from  me — all  this  will 
etnro  to  my  mmd.  I  have  been  eiideavonr. 
og  to  chase  the  reflection  from  me,  but  in 


Tharsdas,  Feb.  21s(,  15 


other  beings  of  kindred  t 
have  escaped  any  one  of 
for  lussion  or  intelligen 


sniarged  capacities 
e,  much  less  such 
for  both,  that  the 
I  the  compass  of 
to  its  yearnings. 
Hence,  I  imagine,  solitude— that  is,  perfect 
solitude,  is  iiuposaible — and  society,  whether 
actual  or  imaginary,  must  be  created- 

Itut  there  is  a  higher  vocation  for  this 
necessity  of  sympathies;  a  gospel  mission, 
which  is  designed  to  contribute  to  the  well- 
being  of  mankind.  Did  not  our  Siiioni 
preach  that  doctrine  of  sympathies  ? 

It  is,  perhaps,  in  this  sacred  acceptation, 
that  sorrow  ar^  '-  - "■  — ------  -- 


of  s 
a  holy  pleas 


le  Divine  iiurpost 


reetest  ilcsiie  is  to  distribute  blessings  t' 
iBiikind,  seems  to  withhold  tbs  means  o 
luiributiug,  even  the  smallest    share,  ti 


Ho,t,db,  Google 


such  blenuigi,  Bren  if  it  Sees  flot  condemn 
me  nnwittingly,  and    without    design, 
jnflwt  suffering,    ^Vhy  have  I  not  mean! 
place  ;ou  aboie  the  reach  of  the  concemptible    i 

who  cannot  match  you,  and  glories  in  tlii 


h  u  d  f         er  ft-ee  you  ^m 

p  n    h      ID  au-spirited  world. 

h  d         [lie  advantages  o( 


lofra 

If  anything  eonid  have  mai 
the  edventitiouj  vantage  of  ( 
with  leas  ealeem  than  !  ms  natu 


wealth,  and  the  glory  of  vi 

the  diBpamgement  of  the  latter,    it  ia 

perhaps,  which  has  more  deeply  impn 


3  meregord    ] 

alljiaclin 
'hich  vulg 
splendonr 


means  of  li 


could  almost  quarrel 
ident  admiration  ol 
love  her  the  hotter 


Tlieywe  ceaselessly  ringio 

I  !ov«  Miss  Chalmers  to 

to  you.    Bnt  here,  again,  t 

tioo,  that  those  who  nios 

noble  c 
ihould  b 

aracter,  and  inco 
«  least  able  to  ph 

laaerced  by  Clarinda,  I  cannot  hdp  dreadii^ 
luch  passionate  admiration.  Bhe  has  been 
Ratified  to-day  with  tbe  appreciation  of 
tlra.  Cookbum's  refined  and  acknowledge 
Bate,  and  the  praise  of  her  "  Henry,"  by 
he  authoress  of  "I've  seen  the  amiling  o( 

iletely  happy  as  she  appeared  to  have  been 
1st  night,  with  the  converse  of  my  Sylvaiider 
-it  siu^  may  be  the  asaumed  claim  of  j/ovr 


VUl  aa 


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