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''■'^K-" »• '■ U:i,u ';i.,»i ,w * tdM J, .11 ^ E * ^w 2>U\ THE WORKS OF EGBERT BUENS. J WITH A SKI! IKS OK ArTIIKNTIC PICTORIAL ILLUSTRATIONS, MAlUilNAL (iLOSSAUV. NIMKUOUS NUTK.S, ANIJ AI'PKNDIXKS: ALHIJ THE I.IKF, <»I' III HNS. IIV r. (;. U>fKH.\llT: AM) ESSAYS ON TIIK (iEMl S, ( IIAK.U TKIt, AM* WUITIN, or just u littlo over uiio liiiiKlrt'd years ii^^o. It was priiitctl i\i Kiluuiniock, to bo Huld by subsfriiition for tho modest .sum of three shilliiij^s, and formed a small volumo entitled, " I'ooms, chiefly in the Scottish Dialect, by Robert liurns." The author was then a young man of twenty-seven, ami known only in his own immediate neighbourhood; but this unpretentling little book, and tho somewhat larger Kdiidiurgh edition which soon followed it, were enough to make his name a liousehold word among Scotchmen, and to show that Scotlaml had given birth to a great national poet. Since tlu-n IJurns's fame has gone on increasing, tMlitioii after edition of his writings has been published, and copies have been Bold by the hundred thousand. Among the chief of the larger editions of l)urns'.s works was one brought out, about forty years ago, by the i)ublishers of the pi'esent edition. It had a long lease of public favotir, and was generally regarded as not unworthy of the poet. Since its publication, however, much fresh matter that should bo incor- porateil in any comprehensive edition of liurns has been accumulated; additional poems and letters of his have been made public, and a consideraljlc number of new facts rcdating to his life have become known. This result has been brought about chietly by the labours of such painstaking editors as Kobert Chambers, llately A\'addell, (Jeorgc Gilfillan, and especially W. Scott Douglas, the first and last of whom in particular have added in a surprising manner to the bulk of IJtirns's published wiitings and to the known facts of his life. With these additions to our knowledge of IJurns's life and writings the demand among readers for copies of his works has more than kept pace, and, indeed, seems to be without limit. For as the population of the British islands continues to increase, as the English speaking communities throughout the world continue to multiply, so also do the admirers of Scotland's National Bard, by whom his works and life are more and more studied. Hence tho issue of the present VOL. I. 1 % 'k VI TKEFACE. edition, in which the most recent avaihiblc niattor has been incorporated, and which, it is helioved, will better than any other eiial)le readers to form a com- plete and just estimate both of the man and of his wiitings. Among the chief features of tliis edition arc tlie following:— The writings of Burns are here presented in two sections, of which the one contains the poetry, the other the prose. Both sections are arranged chrono- logically, the pieces following each other according to their dates, so that the development of the poet's genius and his hterary career may be readily studied and placed in connection with all the facts of his life. With the same object in view the year of the poet's age to which each poem belongs is inserted at the top of the page Avhere the piece occurs. Numerous notes are appended to the author's text, giving the reader a v,"st amount of useful, and indeed indispensable, information in regard to persons, places, occurrences, local usages, *Vc., connects 1 Avith or referred to by Burns, Without such a commentary many references and allusions would not be understood, nor would the poems and letters possess anything like the same interest. A certain number of the notes are critical in their character — they may point out special beauties, or may indicate where the poet has been less happy in his eflbrts. These latter notes are chiefly selected from writers of eminence who have had Burns for their theme. The poems are treated on the self-interpreting plan, that is, the Scottisli words and expressions, such as occur especially in the best and most charac- teristic of Burns's poems, are rendered intelligible to all by means of marginal explanations accompanying each piece that requires such aid. To those unac quainted with the dialect that Burns often used this must prove a most valuable feature, as it will enable any one readily to api)rehend the riieaning of even the most difficult passr.ges, while the troublesome necessity of consulting a glossary is entirely avoided. Parallel with each line will be found the necessary interpretation, so that the reader carries the sense along with him without stopping, and only very rarely does a more detailed explanation require to be furnished in a note. But it is well to rememl)er that the difficulty of under- standing Burns is opt to be exaggerated, and that many of his poems present few and trifling peculiarities of dialect and others none at all. The Life of the poet given in this edition, that namely written by -lohn Gibson Lockhart, the son-in-law and biographer of Sir Walter Scott, is the only one that has acquired the character of a classic. It forms an eminentlv I I PSEFACE. Vll iucoiporated, ami ii's to form a coiii- of whicli tlie one ainuiged chroiio- ilates, so that the be readily studioil he same object in s inserted at the appended to the 3ed indis])ensablc, ;es, Ac., connected many references nd letters possess notes are critical ly indicate where notes arc chiefly ir theme. b is, the Scottish md most charac- eans of marginal To those unac- 3 a most valuable aeaning of even of consulting a nd the necessary ith him without r>n require to be liculty of under- s poems present vritten by John er Scott, is the IS an eminently readable and extremely fair-minded account of Burns's life, one in which the poet's greatness is fully recognized, and his defects and failings treated with gentleness and charity. The Life is supplemented by notes and an extensive appendix, adding very considerably to the information supplied by Lockhart, and giving results obtained by the most recent investigations and discoveries. But the most valuable supplement to the Life w^ill be found in the letters and the notes accompanying them, taken in conjunction with the poems belonging to corresi)onding periods. The two Essays included in this edition are studies on the poet and his writings that all readers must be glad to possess. Carlyle's essay has been universally recognized as one of the best and most sympathetic estimates of Burns ever written, and one of the ablest of its author's contributions to the department of literature to w^liich it belongs. The eloquent and enthusiastic tribute of the renowned " Christopher North " to his fellow-poet and fellow- countryman, if a less celebrated composition, will be found to have merits of its own fully entitling it to the place here assigned it. Among other features of the present edition attention may be drawn to the account which it contains of the great centenary celebration of the poet's birthday held in 1859 (with quotations from the chief addresses delivered on the occasion); the description of mouumeiits erected to him, and of the por- traits of him that exist; the selection of poems in his honour by well-known writers ; the account of the chief editions of his works that have been published, and of the translations of his poems into foreign languages, A'c. Altogether, it may safely be said that in no other edition is there n ('cumulated such a quantity of valuable matter calculated to throw light, from all points of view, upon Burns the poet and Burns the man. Readers Avill here possess ]5urns's works complete, in the best sense of the word, only a few trifling pieces unworthy of the poet being omitted and a few rather coarse passages suppressed. The Pictorial Illustrations Avill no doubt be regarded as worthy of the text they accompany. The Landscapes embrace tin principal scenes identified with the Life and Writings of the Poet, and thereby include views of much of the most attractive scenery of Scotland and of many localities rendered interesthig by historical as Avell as by poetical associations. They are from finished pictures, by D. O. Hill, K.S.A., an artist fully accjuainted with the scenes, alive to the VIU PEEFACE. iwt'tical and other associations connected Avith them, and wliose faithful representations are rcndei'ed in a itoctic spirit. Tlie portraits arc all from authentic originals. Besides two portraits of the Poet liiinself — the one from Xasm3th's well-known picture, the other from the remarkable drawing by Skirving — they present the likenesses of persons intimately connected with Burns by friendship or by association with In's Muse. i 13 Glasgow, December, 1SS7 I I wliosc faithful lits arc all from If — the one from ihlc drawing by connoctcd M'ith CONTENTS AND LIST OF THE ENGEAVINGS. ENGRAVINGS. Portrait of Burns, from the remarkable drawing by Archibald Skirving,* Cottage in which Burns was born, Tho Banks of Doon, Burns's Monument, and Bridge of Doon Kirkoswakl and Tani o' Slianter's Grave jMossgiul Farm-house, near Mauchlinc, EUisland, the Poet's Residence on the Nith, Dumfries, the Kiver Nith, and Old Bridge Portrait of Mrs. Burns (Jejin Armour) and one of her Grandchildren. From the picture by S. M'Kenzio, S.A., Jedburgh and the Kiver tied Portrait of Mrs. Bruce of t'lackniannan. From the picture by G. Chalmers, . Scene on tlie Lugar near Auchinleck House, f ' Soe account of the orighinl drawing hi Appendix to Vol. V. Page Front is. . 16 18 24 32 84 132 166 176 184 216 LIFE OF THE POET BY J. G. LOCKIIART, 13-141 CllAl'TKi; I. HirtIi;-tIio poet's father and family: —their iillei-'cil .laLdliitisiii : — Williiim Huiiies settles ill Ayishire:— iiiania^'u:- eliiiiacter;- - the pciet s nicitliei"— fiiniily removes to Mount Oliplmiit: -deatli of tlieir laiidlonl ami removal to hoehleii:— ili'iitliof tJK' poet's father:— t'diieu- tinii (it the liiinies family:- life at .Mount Oli- phaiit;- Itoliert and fiillieit at seliool at Diil- rymiile:— Kohert studies French with Murdoch at .\yr:—readinK:— friends in Ayr: — liiirns's llrst love and song, Chai'TKR II. Roliert and Gilhert as farm-labour- ers: Kdhert's suprcniaey as a farm-worker:— goes to dancing-school:— the rural lieauties of TaHiolton :— early prodiietions :— rural eourt- sliip :— Kirkoswald :— early literary corrcspon- deneo :— poems written at Loehlea : — life at Irvine:- Alison liegbie :— letter to his father :— fiieiidsliip with Richard Hrown:— t)ecomcs a freemason : — Hachclor's Club :— diseussioiis: — eluli bull:— David Killar:— eorresiiondence with James liurnes:— liirtl; of an illegitimate child, ClIAl>TKl{ III. Removal toSlossgiel:— theidogical diseussioiis:— ('lunch iinrties- the New-Lights and Auld-Lights:— Gavin Haniilton— his feud Page 13 21 with Mr. Aidd:— Dr. Macgill's case:— the "Twa Herds:"— "Holy Willie's Prayer:"— the "Ordi- nation," "Kirk"s Alarm, " and "Holy Fair:'" — "Epistle to Davit," and first idea of liecoming an author; (iilbert"s account of this period's poems: — "Dr. Hornbook: "-the ineciuality of human condition: — " Life and Age of Man:" — the "Cotter"s Saturday N'ight " and "Holy Fair:" — West Indian project:— Highland Mary: —.lean Armour:— aeknowledgment of marriage: —birth of twins:- legal steps taken to secure his children's maintenance, .... ClIAl'TKn IV. Jamaica engagement:— resolution to publish his poems: — publication of first edi- tion:— preparations for sailing: — growing fame: — Dugald Stewart, Dr. Blair, Mrs. Dunlop:— "Lass of Ballochniyle '':— hopes of an excise ap- pointment:— visit to Dr. L.aurie:— Dr. Black- lock's letter:— Burns resolves to visit Edinburgh, Chai'Tkr V. Arrival in Edinburgh:— introduction to the gentry and literati of the capital:— Mac- kenzie's notice of Burns's poems:— masonry: — notes on Burns in Edinliurgh, by Dugald Stewart, Prof. Walker, and Sir Walter Scott:— Scottisli literature:— Burns and the Edinburgli philoso- Page 32 47 •^ CONTENTS. pliers:— (linry:— new conncetiniis formeil in Ediiilimtih: — convi'isiitiiiiial imiwits:- I'.unis iiiul Dr. liliiii:- saicastic- iiiiil iiiiilaiiioiMis re- marks:- IMiiilniryli lawyers: — tavern -life: — William Nh(.l;— lettei\s:-iiiililieati(inofsei d etlitiiiii I'f iRnMiis:-ereels tuiiibsloiie tui'erj;iis son: -leaves Kdinliiuyli, CiiA1'Ti;k VI. I'.iinUr tour:— eiiisde Id Creueli:— return tii Maneliline:— faviMir;ilpl,v reeeived l>.v the Armours:— returns to i;dinlinri;li: -West nit'ldand timi:— llarviestcui jnurne.v:— Stirlin;,' epi).'ram:— unmoved liy ;;ran(l( iir of scenery, ite.:— visit to Jtamsay of (Iclitertyre:— visit to .Mrs. Bruce of Claekmannan:— nortJKru tour:— Taynujutli : — IJlair- Atliole :— [nveriiess :— (ior- don t'astle:— .\l)erdeen :- Stonehaven, iVe. :— de- cides on taking the farm of i;ilisland:—('Iariuda: — Johnsons .l/».''V'»/«.'— ode to Prince rjiarles:— overturned in a coach and contiued to his room forsixweeks:— low spirits:— Jean .Vrnionra^iaiii exposed to the rejiroaches of her fannly, and turned out of doors:— I'.unis secures shelter for lier:— applies for a post on tlie excise, and is appointi.d:— settlement with Creech:— loan to Gilljcrt, C'HAPTKli VII. Marriage:— takes EUislaiuI, and enters on possession:— excuses for his nniiriagc: — builds a house, and lirings his wife home:— company courted by neighlionrs and visitors:— contributions to Johnson's .l/n.'-n/i/i.—cxtensive correspondence:— farniing a failure:— ol it an is actual employment as an exciseman:— Allan I'ilKf V&fte Cunningham's recollections:— perils and temp- tations of Ills new vocation:- the " wliistle con- n,.st:"_t'aptain (iiose:— '•'I'ani »' Shaiitei" — • legeml:- i:ilisland anecdotes :- leaves Kllis- land:— last visit to IMinburHh:— convivial con- versation, ''S CilAl'TDl! VIII. Dumfries: — iuteniperanee: — hopes of promotion :— Jacoliitism :- W Idggisli favour for the French ilevolntion: r.iuns sns- ]iected:- indiscretions:— story of the captured guns :—r.'ieise- board's investigation :— linrns joins the Dumfries vidnnteers:— I'.leetion Hal- lads:— (.rayanil rindlatcron Hnrnsin Dumfries: Tliomson s .l/c^/i/Zcs;— eorresjiondenee :— Chlo- I'ig:—" Scots wha hae":-l.'owiicr, . . . lui I'llAl'Tl'r. IX. IhuiL-s irritable and nervous bodily constitution inherited:— the "rhyming tribe:" — lettei'toCunninghani:- pecuniaiydilliculties: — corresponilenee with 'i'lionison :— 'rhomsoii'.s treatment of linrns:— acting s\iiiervisor:—deii^ of his daughter:- illness: — imprudent eximsure and chill:— racked with rheumatism:— removal to r.row:-.Mrs. Kitldell:— letter to his cousin at Montrose:— icturn to Dumfries:— death : — funeral:— birtli of a son:— niausolenm erected: —subscription for the benellt of his family: — Curries edition: sons of liurns:— (iilliert llurns:— IJurns negleited:— poverty:- letter to I'eter Hill:— Uurns's Inmesty and charity:- his religious prineiides: — value of Hnrns's history and poetry, ll'.> APPENDIX TO LOCKIIArT'S LIFE OF BURXS, 142-1S(; Burns's Autobiogi-aphical Letter to Dr. Moore, liurns's Early Life, by his Brother Gilbert, Burns and his Father's liousehokl, by John Murdoch, i; Burns, as sketched by Professor Dup-ild Stewart, 1.' IMu'ns's Last Veais, by .Tames (fray, . Burns as an Excise ( illleial, by ( 'oUector Findlatcr Dr. Currie's Description of Burns, Estimate of Burns's Character, by Maria Riddell, 142 14^ ir.7 i(;i) 101 1G:2 Pjiograjihic Notes on tiie Family of Burns, and on his Brothers and Sisters 10,') Exlinmation of the Poet's Kenniins, . . . Ids The Paternal .Vneestry of I!\nns, . . . 1711 Highland Mary, 173 Urief .Notes by Burns of a I'order Tour, . . 1711 lirief Notes liy liurns of a Highland Tour, . ISO Visit by linrns to ('lacknuinnanshire, iVe., by Dr. Adair, 1^3 •Syme's Narrative of a Tour with linrns, . . 184 Library 'f llurns , 185 POEMS AND SOXGS-Eauliest to 178.-., 187-2fiO Song — HaniJsome Nell, . . . .189 Song — Tibbie, I hae seen the tin V. . . 1!)U Song — I dream'd I lay, . . . .191 Tragic Fragment 192 The Tarbolton I.as.sos ];i:5 Ah, woo is me, my Mother dear, . . lOo Song — Montgomery's Peggy, . . . 194 The Ronalds of the Bennals, . . .195 Song — On Cessnock Banks, . . . 196 Song — Hero's to thy health, my bcinnie lass, 198 Song — Bonny Peggy Alison, . .199 Song— Mary Movison, .... 200 A Prayer nnder the jiressure of violent Anguish, 201 Winter— A Dirge, -JO] A Prayer in the i)roRi)ect of Death, . 202 Stanzas on the same Occasion, . . 2(i3 Paraphrase of the First P.salm, . . 203 CONTENTS. XI I)oriIs .111(1 tt'iiii). Iif '■ wliirttlu con- I o SliiintiT; ' — -Icitvcs i;iiis- :— convivial cou- rage b3 Mti'iiiiifrjiiice : — :iMM:- \\lii;.'jrisli iiiii: -Kuins .siis- iif till' ciiiJlinvil iili.iii:- lliii'iis -KliTtldii r.iil- iiiislii Diiiafrii's: iimU'iici':— I'lilo- ler, . . . im 1 iiervdiislxjilily liyiiiiiiL.' trilie:" iiiiiij (lilliciiltios: ion :~Tlii)in.s()ii's IH'i'visor:— (liii^ nidiiit ixiiii.vmo iitisiii:— roiiiipviil ur to his cousin fries:— (lentil : — solemn eiLcteil: ; of his family: Hiiins: (iilhert leity:- letter to ml charity:— his Hmiis's history . 11'.) Thu first six Verses of the Ninetietli Psalm paraiihrased, Sony— liay:iiiy Fortune, .... Sdiij,', in the cliaracter ( if a ruined I'arnier, Bonn— M}- Fatlier was a Fanner, . Exteniiiore Verses — "I'll y" and be a Si)ili,'er," Song — The Cure for all Care, John Harleycorii The Dentil and Dyiny; Words i>i jxjor :\railie I'oor ^[ailie's Elegy, .... Song — The Itigs (j' Barley, Song— Peggy, ..... Song—^My Nannie, O, . Song — Wlia is tluit at my bower door? . Song — Green grow the lla.shes, llenwrse — .\ Fragment, Epitaiih — For the Author's Father, Ejiitaph — On a Friend, .... Epitaph — On a celebr.-itcd Ruling Elder, Ballad on the American War, Sony — The ranting Dog the Daddio o't, . Pnae 204 •J(i.'. •2(1.". '2U(J 207 208 209 210 212 211 215 21tJ 217 218 210 220 220 221 221 223 The Poet's Welcome to his Illegitimate Child, Epistle to John Kankinc, Song — leave Novels, . Sung — The Belles of Mauchlinc, . gong — When first; I came to Stewart Kyle Epitaph— On a noisy Polemic, Epitaph — On a henpecked Country Squire, Kpigram — On the said Occasion, . Another, On Tam the Chapman, . Epigrammatic Lines to J. llaukine, Tjncs to John Itankine, Man was made to mourn. The Twa Herds, or the Holy Tuilzie, Holy Willie's Pr.ayer, E])itaph on Holy Willie, ]';pistle to ],)avie, .... Death and Dr. Hornbook, Epistle to John Lapraik, • ' . Second Epistle to John Lapraik, To William Simson, I'agu 223 224 227 228 223 228 228 229 221) 229 230 2:50 233 23G 238 239 243 249 2r.3 250 INDEX TO FIRST LINES OF POEMS AND SONGS IX THIS VOLUME. . 142-lSfi of Iluni.s, ami . Kir. IIS. . • . Kis . 1711 . 173 'I'oiir, . . i7i; 11(1 'rmii-, . ][.(i iif. iVc, liy Dr. . 1S3 liiiins, . . im . 185 . 187-2f)() ybonniela.-^.s, 19S . 199 . 200 of violent . 20] . 20] eath, . 202 . 203 . 203 Ao day, as Death, that gruesome carl, . 229 Ah, woe is nic, my mother dear! . . 193 All villain as I am — a damned wretch, . 192 Altlio' my bed were in yon niuir, . . 194 An holiest man hero lies at rest, . . 220 As father Adam first was fool'd, . . 22S As .Mailie, an' her lambs thegither, . . 210 As Tam the Chapman on a day, . . 229 Beliiiul yon hills, where Lugar tlows, . . 2U) ]5elo\v tliir stanes lie Jamie's banes, . . 228 Green grow the rashes, 1 . . . . 218 He who of Kaiikino sang, lies stiff and dead, 230 Hero Holy Willie's .sair worn clay, . . 238 Here soiiter Hood in death does sleep, . 221 Here's to thy health, my bonnie lass, . 198 I dream'd I lay where flowers were springing, 191 F gat your letter, winsome Willie, . . 2>")H if ye gae up to yon liiU-tai). • • • l''<^ I'll kiss thee yet, yet 199 In Mauehline there dwells six proper }-oung belles, .227 In 'I'arbolton ye ken, thero.'.re lU'opor }'oung men, 19.") It was upon a Lammas night, . . . 214 Lament in rhyme, lament in prose, 212 My father was a farmer upon the Carrick border, 206 No churchman am I for to rail and to write, 208 Now westlin winds and slaught'ring guns, 215 a' ye pious godly flocks, ... O death, liadst thou but .spared his life, Of all the numerous ills that hurt our peace Oh, Tibbie, I hae seen the day, . O leave novijls, ye Mauehline belles, . O Mary, at thy window be, On Cessiioek banks a la.ssie dwells. One Queen Artemi.sia, as old stories tell, O, once [ lov'd a bonnie lass, ( ) ragiiii;- Fortune's withering blast, . O i-ougli, rude, ready-witted Rankine, O Thou Great Being! what Thou art, Thou, the fir.st, the greatest friend, Thou unknown, Almighty Cause, . Thou, wha ill the heavens does dwell, wha my babio clouts will buy ( O why ilie deuce should I repine, ye whoso cheek the tear of pit}' stains. Some books are lies frae end to end, . 233 228 219 190 227 2(i0 19(5 229 189 205 224 201 204 202 236 223 207 220 243 xU Tho man, in lifo wherever plac'd. The sun ho i.s stink in tho west, . Tlio wintry west extends liis blast, There wiw tlirce kin;,''s into tlio east, . Tliou's welcome, wean ! misliantor fa' me, Wha is that at my bower Joor ? . CONTENTS. 20;") 201 20!» 223 217 When chill November's surly blast, . When first 1 came to Stewart Kylo, . When (iuilforcl f^oo'l our i)ilot stood, . While briei-s an' woodbines buddinj,' f,'rcen. While new-cii'd kyo rowte at the stake. While winds frao aff J3en Loniond blaw, . Why am I loth to leave this earthly scene? PnKo 230 22S 221 211) 2r.:! 2;i;t 203 --^ ■f ,1 w "^A 1 4 IP.hth: marriajte mid rem Oliiiliant reading : My 1.1 Ami c T)(.15l It .1:1 PttKO blast, . 230 Kylo, . . 228 stood, . 221 il'liiifTKrocn, 21l» lio st.'iko. 2i".;! "iiil blaw, . 2;{!t irthiy scene? 2(« THE WOBKS OF PvOBEET BUENS. LIFE OF THE POET BY J. G. LOCKHAET. CHATTER I. inirth:— the poet's father anil family :— their alU-Kod Jacnhitism : -William Biirnes settles in Ayrshire:— marriage: -eharaeter-.—tlie poet's mother :— family removes to .Mount Oliphant:— death of tlieir landlord and removal to Loehlea;— deatli of tlie poet's fatlier:— education of the ISurnes family :- life at .Mount Olipliant:— lloliert and Gm)ert at scliool at Ualrymple:— Roljert studies Kreneh with Murdoch at Ayr:- readini,' :— friends in Ayr:— Burns' tlrst love and song.) ' My fiitlitr was a farmer upim llie C'arrick liorilcr, And liirefully lie bivuglit iiiu up iii ili'ctucy ami order. I)0B1:RT nrUNS was bom on tlie 25th of 1 January, 17f)l>, in a clay-built cottag'?, about two miles to tlic south of the town of Ayr, and in the immediate vicinity of tlie Kirk of Alloway, and the " Auld IJrig o' Doon." About a week afterwards, part of tlie frail dwellinir, which his fatlier had constructed with his own hands, irave way at midniglit; and the infant ;7oet and his mother were carried throu!j;]i the storm, to the shelter of a ncigh- bouriiig hovel. The father, William Bimies or Buniens (for .so he spelt his name), was the son of a farmer in Kincardinesiiire, whence he removed at nine- teen years of age,'- in consequence of domestic embarrassments. The farm on which the family lived formed part of the estate forfeited, after the liebellion of 1715, 1)y the noble liousc of Keitli-Marischal; and the poet took pleasure in believing that his humble ancestors shared ' [ rassa){i!s that do not belong to the Life as written by Loeliliart, but are now inserted to supplement or cor- rect his text or notes, are inclosed in s(iuare brackets.] • I An error. A letter of recommendation given to William liurnes l)y three Kincardineshire gentlemen, dated i)tli ilay, 1748, sliows that he was at least twenty- seven years of age when he left his father's house.] the principles and the fall of their chiefs. "Though iny fathers" (.said he after his fame was established) "had not illustrious honours and vast properties to hazard in the contest — though they left their cottages only to add so many units more to the unnoted crowd tjiat followed their leaders, yet what they could they did, and what they had they lost. . . . They shook hands with ruin, for what they esteemed the cause of their king and their country. "•■' Indeed, after William liurnci settled in the west of Scotland, there prevailed a vague notion that he himself had liccti out in the insurrection of 1745-6; but *iiougli I'obert would fain have interpreted his father's silence in favour of a talc which flattered his imagination, his brother (iilbcrt always treated it as a mere fiction; and such it was. It is easy to suppose, that when any obscure north- ern stranger fixed him.sclf in those days in the Low Country, such rumours were likely enough to be circulated concerning him. [It is not improbable that some members of the family had gone "out" with the young Earl Marischal in 1715, but it is tolerably certain that none of the poet's more immediate ancestors, at lea.st 3 Letter to Lady Winifred Jlaxwell Constable, lOtli December, 1789. [The letter will lie found In its proper place in the poet's Correspondence.] 14 LIFE OF JtOlJEHT IIURNS. on the father's side, ".sliook liiiiiil.s witli ruin," on iiwounl of any connection tlioy had with tiiat rising-. His f;randfathcr sol I led on iiis farm of Cid.linaliill aliniit liiat lime, and re- mainid tiicre till 1748. wliile his (jrreai-f?rand- lather and .-everal of his ^land-uiu'lcs were for lon.i,' tlirivinu- rarnier.-- in llic ncifilihourhood, Konie of thcni or tinir raniilies lill after Hurns'> own deaih.]' William linrncs laboured for some years in the iieiL;lilioiirliiiod of IMinlmri:!' as a gardener, iinil then found his way into Ayr.-hire. [ In 174!t lie was employed in lay in; out the Meadow-;, or lloii; i'ark, on the soi.ih side of i;dinl)uri;li, i,'roun(l which was formerly covered 'ill a lake called the Uorough l.och.] At i';c time when liohert was horn, lie was gardener and overseer to a uentleman of small estate, Jlr. Ferjriison of Doonholm : but resided on a few acres of land, which he had on lease from another proiirietor, and where lie had m-iuiiially intended to establish himself as a Jiurseryman. He married \,u:nes lirown in JJeccniber, l?;')?, and the poet was their first-born. William IJurncs seems to liavo been, in his humble station, a man eminently entitled to respect. He had received the ordinary learn- inir of a Scottish parish school, and i)rofited larjiely, both by that, and by his own e.\]icri- encc in the world. "I have met with lew" (said the poet,- after he himself had seen a good deal of inankinil) "who understood men, their manners, and their ways, cr|U!il to my father." He was a strictly religious man. There exists in hishandwritiiiua little maniiid of tlieoloiry, in the form of a dialogue, which he drew up for the use of his children, and from which it appears that he had adopted more of the Arminian than of the Calvinistic 'loctriiit ; a circumstance not to be wondered at, when wc consider that he had been edu- cated in a district wliicli was never numbered amom;- the strongholds of the Presbyterian church.'' The afrectioiiatc reverence with which liis children ever regarded him, is at- ' (Sec Al'i'ENliiX— " Pateinal Ancestry of Hums."] - Letter (if IJunis to Dr. Mixne, 2il Au^'ust, 17s". [This auti)lii()t:iui)liical letter will he fduiul complete ill the jircseiit vciliiiiie fDlluwiii}.' the Life.] 3 1 Tills niiuuial as it exists is in the liaiiilwritiiit; (jf ^ruiilocli, the teacher, who had either cxtemleil it from notes, or written it from the dictation of William ruinies at Jlount Oliphaiit. See vol v.| tested by all w ho have described him as he np- ]iearcd in his doineslic cinde; but there needs no evidence, besiile that u( the poet ]iini.>agacions w(nn!iii. with- out any ajipcarance id' forwardness, orawkward- ness (d'manncr ;" ' and it seems that, in features, and, as he grew up. in general tiddress, the [loct resembled her more than his father.'' She had an inexhaustible store of ballads ami traditionary tales, ,'ind appears to Inive nour- ished his infant imagination iiy tliis mean.-, while her husband paid more attention to " the weii:lilier matters (d' the law." These wnt iliiTc mx;U (lie jMH'i liiniseir, •liat will never .iimI (lie liusl)!iii(| '■ iuhi." this ijood man, i, >iis woman, wiih. iit'ss, draw k ward- I'lal, in leiUnrcs, iral address, die Ills fat iier.'' Sho I'l' liaiiads and '■■•< t(i have nrnir- i.v tliis means, '■•L' attention t„ htw." •cd hard for the ""'l.v. William -.iriison's serviee, Aiieliterniuehtie, k.ve, ami (Hit, — dairy as well as leir honesty and ". their condition ortaMe; and our Te) aecoiml.s dis- id hred "a very ;, that "stuhhorn loiitr, uiiy-overn- 'ifviiig I'iivum. I not, however, iVilliam Miirnes "ho, when the ii'lure in the "Twii Doi^s"), IJunies vas Iliad to uive u\< ids bariiuiii a., the em! of Bi.\ vears.' Ho tiicn removed alpoiil ten miles to a laru;er and better farm, lluii of Locldea, in the i>arish of Tarlmlion. liui here, after a plioit interval of iiro>iPirily, .some tini'oriuiiate riisunderstanilin.i; took iihne as tolliei ii- tioiis of the lease; the di>i)iile was referred to arliitiaiioii; and, after three years of suspense, tiie result involved liiirnes in ruin. The worthy man lived to know this decision ; hut death saved him froiv vitiu'ssini;- its necessary conseiiuences. lie died of consumiition on the 13th February, 1781, Severe labour, and hopes only renewed to be ballled, had at last exhausted a robust but irritalile structure and temperament of body anil of mind. In the midst of the harassing strua'slcs which found this termination, William liurnes iippears to have used his utmost exertions for lironiotinu; the mental improvement of his children— a duty rarely neglected by Scottish jiarents, however humlile their station and scanty tiieir means, llobert was sent, in his sixth year, to a small school at Alloway .Mill, about a mile from the house in which he was born. Hilt Camiibell, the te;iciier, lieiiin' in the course of a few months removed to another situation, lUirncs and four or five neiu'hbours enna^ed ^Ir. .lohn .Murdoch to supply his jilacc, lodiiing him by turns in their own houses, and insuriui;' to him a small payment of money (piarterly. liobert Burns, and tiil- bert his next brother, were the aptest and l.ivourite pupils of this worthy man, who ha.s, in a letter published at Icntcth by C'urrie, de- tailed, with honest pride, the part which he had in the early education of our poet. He became the freiiuent inmate and confidential frieii'l of the family, and s]icaks with enthusi- asm of the virtues of \Villiam Hunies, and of the peacelV .md happy life of his humble abode. 1 I'l'lic'ie is an error here. Uurncs hail an ojitioii of rciiioviii;,' at the cnil of every sixtli .vear. At tlie eiul of the llrst six .veais lie atteiii)iti'(l to llx liiiiiself in a liutter farm, hut failiiij; in that atteniiit, lie hail to taclvlf a suciiml .six, ami renmiiu'il in all tli'ven years at Jtouiit Oliphaut, viz. from Whitsumlay, 17ii(J, to Whitsunday, 1777.] "He was," says Jlurdoch,'-' "a tender and aU'ectionate father; he took pleasure in leiuiing his cliililreii i tlie path of virtue; not, in driv- iii'j; liieiii, as >omu parents do, to the perfor- mance of duties ' I which I hey iheniselves are averse. He look care lo liiid fault but very seldom; and therelore, when lie did reluike, he was listened to wiili a kind of revei'eiilial awe. .V look oi' disaiiprobatioii was fell ; a reproof was severely so; and a slri[ie with the /iiir.<, even on the skirt ol' the coat, iiiive heart- felt jiain, produceil a loud lamentation, and brouL;hl forth a Hood of tears. " He had the art of uaining the esteem and ffood-will of those that were labourers under him. I think I irjver saw him aimry Init I twice; the one time it was with the foreman of the band, for not reapinu; tlie field as he was desired; and the other time, it was with an [ old man, for usinjj; siniitt_.- innuendoes and i/oiili/i' ciiti'udri It. . . . " In this mean cottage, of which 1 myself was at times an inhabitant, I really believe there dwelt a larger portion of content than in any palace in Kurope. The 'Cottar's Satur- day Night' will give some idea of the temper and manners that jire vailed there."-' • IMiuiloili was aliout ei};hteen years of ajic wlien, ill May, ITIi.'i, he took iiossession of the scliool, a small thutchi'd liuiUliiif;- iliivetly o]iiiosite I'.iiiiis's ('otta>:e. lie ultimately went to London, where he jni' lished several educational works. In his latter lUiys he sank into jioverty, and a fund was raised for his relief. He died, April '20, 1^*24, af-ed seventy-seven; and from tlie ohiliiary notice ]iiililished in the London IniiHis we Uani that the eelehiati"' Talleyrand was one of several distint;iiislied foreif,'iiers w ho leaiiied Kiii;lisli from lUuns's schoolmaster. His account of the r.iiins household will lie found complete in the ajipemlix to Lockliart's Life, as here imlilished.] 1 •"[I'.unis's liiithiilaee, or as it is now ccmnioiily called " r.unis's ('ottaj;e," is a low-roofed, one-storied stnictiiie if a very humhle order on the highroad from Ayr to Mayhole, and at a little distance from Alloway Kirk and the Auld Jiris; o' Doon. The road, when r.unis's father built his liouse, ran in a more westerly direction than the inesent hij;liway, the I whole of his };arden-,nrouncl lyiiii;' between the two. The cotta;::e consisted of a "but" or kitchen end to the left of the doorway, a "ben" or room end to the ri^'ht, with an "awmrie" or partition press between, faeiiiK the door. At the back of this ])ress and facing the kitchen llieiilace was the recess which contained the bed in which the poet was born. On the family's rciuovin;; to Mount Olipliant the cnttaire, with its siuioiindiiifijiardeii-acres, wassohl to tlie Corporation I of Shoemakers in Ayr, for .£120. About the beginning 1 1 ]0 LIFE OF J{OBi:UT liUUNS. The boys un.lcr the joint tuition of Mur.lo.h another. IJoherfn countcnnnee wan Konemlly luul liieir lather, n.i. le rai-id proRress in rea.l- urave, an.l expressive of a .scrio..., eonlenipia. InK spellinir and writinir; ihev .•..nimitted live, and tiiont,'litl'ul mind. (iill.erl s Ilia- psaluLs and h'vn.ns lo n.en.,.ry with exlra..rdi. said, 'Mirth, with thee I mean to live;' un.l nary ea«c-lheteaeiiertaliin- rare ("^'-■iL'll'' '•I'rtainly, it any j-erson who knew the two us) that tliey siiould understand tiie exaet lioys iiad I.een aslved wlmdi (d tliem was tlic meaning ol' eaeli won! in the sentenee ere they most likely to eourt tiie .Muscm, ho would never tried to get it hy iieart. "As soon," says liave guessed that Holiert hail a propensity of ho, " as they wereeai'al)le of it, I tan. lit lliem tlial kind." to turn verse into its natural prose or.ler; ".Vt those years," says the poet himself, in sometimes to suhslitute synonynujus expres- 1787, "I was hy no means a favourite with sions for poetieal words; ami to supply ail the anybody. I was a good deal m)ted for u re- ellipses. Hobcrt and Ciilbert were generally tentive memory, a stubborn sturdy somelhim,' at the upper end of tiic elass, even when in my disposition, and an enthusiastie idio! ranged with boys by far their seniors. Tho ; piety. I say i' DiiDii," ciiiiieived tlie idea (it , , , ,,, . . . " . ,■e,l.„viM^' Ids Imsiness tn llurns s rMu^. lie Imd '""' ^'^ '^"•""■'^' "" '^•'^'^■'' "" "'>' '>"!'^'""Vt>on, some leeolieeti.uis (if liiiiMs, whetlier leal (ir iiiiiim- that to this hour, in my nocturnal rambles, I factiiied: and retailed tlieiiKiver a dram fn uiiwiirds sometimes keep a sharp look-out in suspicions places; and tlKumh nobody can be more sceptical than 1 am in such matters, yet it often lakes an eH'ort df philosoidiy 'o shake oil" these idle terrors. The earliest composition that I recollect taking pleasure in, was Tin' Vi.fUiii of Mhfii, and a hymn of Addison's, beginning, 'How are thy servants blest, '> l/ordi' 1 particularly remember one lialf- stanza, which was music to my boyish ear : l''(ir tli(iii;.'li on dreadful wliiils we hung lli^li on the broken wave of forty veiirs, miieli to tlie .seaiidal of all lovers of the poets memory, and tlie assoeiatioiis eoimeeted with his father s dwelliiii;' The aecoiiimodiit ions have been extended since the poet s time, by additions iit iKitli jtaldes, and by the erection of a liamlsome hall, in 1S4!». In it have been held niiineidMs .social ({atlier- ings and liinns's festivals, the most iiotalile of wlneli, perhaps, is the centenary festival jiresided over by Dr. Hately Waddell. Tlie tliit meeting,' eeleliratinj; the anniversary of the poet s birth was held in the cottaKO on the iM\ .laniiaiy, ISDl, wlieii Mr. Ciawford of Uuonsidc, .biliu Itallantine, to whom Itnrns ad- dressed the "Twa J)ri;;s;" Uobert Aiken, to whom he } dedicated the "Cottar's .Saturday Ni^tlit," and other friends and admirers of the jioet, met under the ] presidency of the J!ev. Hamilton I'aul. After Miller j ^^^ ^^ith these pieecs in Mason's EmilM,. Ooudies death, the liiisiness earned oil in tlie cottage ^, ,, . , i , < n,i diaii(;ed hands several times, and ultimately the Collcrtion, one of my school-b„ . .s. The two selliiiffofdrink was banished from tlie cottage proper first books I ever read ill ju-ivate, and which and eoiiHiied to tiie adjoinini,' hall. ThisairaiiKement jrave me more pleasure than any two books ! continae,! till 18«. when the " 1-unis Monnment ,,.,, ^cad since, were, the Uf<' of Il,nn,ibal, Irustees purcha.sed the property from the Avr Cor- ,,. , .,. „;.„. „, poratum of Shoemakers tor ,t4000, and converted It ""'' "'^ '''"'O'll OJ ''"' II '"""» nallace. into a kind of I3urns niuseuui.] | Hannibal gave my young ideas such a turn, # innee w:\a ffciierally NcrioiiM, cdiUenipla. III. (iilliiTl's fai'o nicaii to livL-;' ami lio know the two li of tlifiii uan (lie ■^ '::s. Tiio two Nate, and which iiy two books : ^<' of Jlitiini/xif, Itunn Wallace. as such a turn. -^ ? * m ti i 1 U < t-« P «• « ;i) O S o a t) i § « >»' e # * »■! .5 sl^ • '^ aa ^ O O ;; I I that I " after tl wish 1", the storx there ti rest- Ami to -Mr>. earlier many the lal tear ov In tho; cuhir. Btorv N\ LIFE OF ROBERT BURNS. 17 Uuit I u^cd to strut in raptures up and down alter the recruiting drum and l)a,i,q>ipe, and wish myseir tall enou,i?h to he a soldier; wiiile the story of Wallace poured a tide of Scottish prejudiee into my veins, wliich will lioil aloni: I here till the flood.i;ates of life shut in eternal rest.'" Ani constantly alllictcd in iUc e\ enings with a dull headache, which, at a future iieriod of his life, was exchanged for a palpitation of tlie lieart, and a threatening of fainting and sniioeation in his bed, in the night-time." The year after this, IJtirns was able to gain three weeks of respite, one before, and two after the iiarvest, from the labours which were thus straining his youthful strength. His tutor Murdoch was now established in the town of Ayr, and the boy spent one of those weeks in revising the English .grammar wit !i liim; the other two were given to Froneli. He laboured ei.'.liusiustically in the new jiursuit, and came home at the end of a fort- night with a dictionary and a 'IVli'maijui', of which he made such use in his leisure hours, by himself, that in a short time (if we may lielicve (iilbert) he was able to understand any ordinary book of French prose. His ]irogress, whatever it really amounted to, was looked on as something of a ])rodigy; and a writing- master in Ayr, a friend of Jlurdoch, insisted that Hobert Burns iniist next attemiit the rudiments of the Latin tongue. He did so, but with little pcseveranec, we may be sure, since the results were of no sort of value, liurns's Latin consi.-,tcd of a few scrajis of hackneyed (luotations, such as many that never looked into Ituddiniaii's HinHiiietds can apply on occasion, (juite as skilfully as he ever appears to have done. The mailer is one of no importance; we might iierliaps .safely dis- miss it with parodying what Ben Jonson said at the age of thin con, crop of corn, and at abourcr on tlie farm, ant, male or female. 3 felt at our tender and difficulties, was our father growing fifty), broken down fatigues of his life, r children, and in a stances, these rellcc- lier's mind and niinc distress. 1 doulu and sorrow of this I great measure the P spirits with which I through his whole inie he was almost ^\enings with a dull ■0 period of liis life, Sat ion of the heart, ing and suffocation le." US was able to gain ic before, and two labours which were ul strength. J lis Dstablished in the siient one of those lish grammar widi given to French, illy in the new the end of a fort- nd a 'IVIi'duiiiui', II his leisure hours, t time (if we may to understand any se. Ills jinigress, to, was looked on ; and a writing- iMurdoch, insi.sted lext attempt the S^XK. lie did so, , we may be sure, 10 sort of value. a 'iiiw scnijis of 1 as numy that I's ItndimevtH can ;ilfully as lie ever matter is one of erhaiis safely dis- i5en Jon.son said St I h ia tl ei bi 81 oi tb di ta to Bh tl( on oh IM— »™^pw 1 1 '. H *. ' ' ? :a ■ ! li k M ■ 1 I LIFE OF ROBERT BURNS. 19 «f Sliakt'spciiro ; lie had little Frcneli, and no Latin ; and yet it i.s proper to mention, that he i.-i I'ound, years after lie left Ayrsliire, viitinu- to Ivlinburgii in some anxiety almut a copy of Moliere. i He ha. Lccliircx, Taylor's Scri/iUtrc Doctrine of Ori'ijliiiil Hin, A Select Collection of ICiiijIitili Son'i^, liervey's MeiUlnlionn " (a book wiiidi has ever been very popular among the Scottish peasantry), "and the Works of Allan I'amsay;" and tiili)ertadds to this list, I'mnrhi (the first novel either of the brothers read), two stray volumes of /'ereijrin'' I'icl-lc, two of Count Fiil/ioin, and a single volume of "some Knglish historian," containing tlic reign of James I. and his son. The Co/lec- tion of SoiKj.'f, says Burns,' "was my nulc mecuin. I pored over them, di'iving my cart, or walking to labour, so)ig liy song, verse by verse; carefully noticing the true tender or sublime, from atl'ectation or fustian; and I am c Autobiographical letter to Dr. Moore, 1787. 1 superiors," he proceeds, "never insidted the cloiiter/i/ appearance of my plough-boy carcass, the two extremes of which were often exposed to all the inclemencies of all the seasons. They would give me stray volumes of books; among them, even then, I could pick up sonic observation: and one- who.se heart 1 am sure not even the Alunny Hegum scenes have tainted, helped me (o a little French. I'art- ing with these, my young friends and bene- factors, as they occasionally went off for the Kast or West Indies, was often to me a sore atlliction — but I was soon called to more seri- ous evils. " The condition of the family during the last two years of their residence at Blount Olipliant, when the struggle which ended in their removal was rapidly approaching itr, crisis, has been already described; nor need we dwell again on the untimely burden of sorrow, as well as toil, which fell to the share of the youthful poet, and which would have broken altogether any mind wherein feelings like his had existed, without strength like his to control them. The removal of the family to hochlea, in the parish of Tarbolton, took place when Burns was in his sixteenth year.-^ He had some time before this made his first attempt in verse, and the occasion is thus described by himself in his letter to iloorc : — "This kind of life — the cheerless gloom of a hermit, with the unceasing moil of a galley- - Tlie alliisidii liere is to one of tlie sons of Dr. .lolm iriilciiliii, afterwards Iii},'lily ili.stinguislieil in the ser- vice iif tlie East Iiiilia Conipaiiy. ^ I'l'liis is a niistalve; tlie poet had completed his eighteenth year when the Humes family removed to Loelilcii ill IV77. The farm of Loehleii, to which the Jinnies family removed on leaviiij^ .Mount Oliphant, is situated aliout three miles from 'ruilioltoii, and occupies a fic'itle slope vei'niiif; on a low-lying tract of land which at one time formed the lied "f the loch from which the jilace takes its name. During draiiiiiii; o])ciatioiis in lt?78 the remains of a very eiimplete craiiiiog or lake-dwelling were discovered in the lied of the loch. In the jioet's time the steading consisted of a one-storied thatched dwelling- house, with a liarn on the when my heart was yet honest, and my you medical pco)do talk much of infecli(m ; tongue Mneerc. ... 1 composed it in a from breathing the same air, the touch, &e.; wild enthusiasm of passion, and to this lioiir but I never expressly said I loved her. In- I "ever recollect it but my heart melts, my deed, 1 did not know myself why I liked so blood sallies, at the remembrance." (M.S. much to loiter behind with her, when return- .Memorandum-book, .\ugiist, 17-S;i.) In his lir.-t epistle to l.apraik (17S.')) ho says, I ing in the evening from our labours; why the tones of licr voice made my licart strings thrill like an .Kolian haq); and particularly why my pulse beat such a furious ralan, when I looked and fingered over her little hand, to pick out the erucl nettle-stings and thistles. Among her other love-inspiring (lualities, she sang .sweetly; and it was her favourite reel, ].\^j.iy J)ayH," we have the following pass;] to which I attempted giving an embodied vehicle in rhyme. I was not so presum|ituoiis as to imagine that I coidd make verses like printed one.s, composed l)y men who had (ireek and Latin ; but my girl sang a .song, which was .said to be coiui»oseil by a small country laird's son, on one of his father's maids, with whom he was in love; and I saw no reason why I might not rhyme as well as he ; for, excepting that he could smear sheep, and cast peats, his father living in the nnwrlands, he had no more scholar-craft than myself. "Thus with me began love and poetry; which at times have been my only, and till within the last twelve months, have been my highest enjoyment."' The earliest of the poet'si productions is the little ballad, 1 AutuliioKraphical letter to Dr. Moore. [The pre viou.s twelve months had seen him emerge from ob- scurity and become fauanis, this no doubt was one of his " highest enjojnieuts."] .•\maist as .soim as T euMld spell, aliii'M I t(i the eianilMi-jliiuU' fell, rliyiiu' 'i'liii' rude and rnugli; Yit crociliiiii In a hi'ilii't: xcU ones si If Dofx tviel cnvvijh. niiiu.ili And in .some nobler verses, entitled "On my ige I nund it wevX In early date, remimiiir When I was beardless, yimiig and Idate, liasliful And 1' >t could tbrasli the barn, Or hai' . .. yokin' "' the pleugh. All', dm' fiiifiiKijIitfii sail' ciiciiijh, Yet linen piuint In lettni — When Ji I ft uiiKiinj llic ijelbnv cmii A ma II I reeliiiii'il icas. All »■(" the hire ilk iiieni/ worn Ciiiiltl riiiik mil riij and lass— Still shearing ami eh aring The tithcr stookit raw, \Vi' chiiTcrs ami haivers Wearing the day awa- IimM exhuUBtnl very others cadi ridye (itliir row Rossip anil uousuiisu E'en then a wish, I mind its jiower, A wish that t;i.) iraiiv (17»5) he .says, Mid spull, „lni..M f''"> rhjiiii. Hid I'diiKh ; ■'* «''' one's s. If nvwjh. vu„\vA )s, entitled "On my fulloHin!;' l>assai;e : ^'' iviiu-nilitr IIK mill Idlltc, laslifiil I' lilllll, Im.I.I l-'XllUUStl'il very "kIi, IWIIij/l, •c ciini Ollfll others cadi ridgo iitliir row Kussiji iiiiil uonseiiBu ? Iiower, rememlier ur il't'iist , lid's sake, )Uld make, , soiii; ling wide barky ae, wccdiug-shears xr. I who can contem- olat" wilitout emotion tliis cxqiilHito pieturo immorlal amiiilion, wiiicii lie has iiimsoit' "' ^ . • 1^ 1.1 1 ..... 1.... ii... .,.......;r.......i ;.....,,... of youn.u; nature and younj,' ^cn\w. it was wn'uist sueh .scones tliat tiiis extraordinary being' felt those first indefinite stirrings of sliadowod out under tlie nitiunifieent inia,t;e of the "idind growings of llomer'.s CyeloiKS, around the walls of hi.s eave." ' C II A FT Eli II. IK.ilMit and Cilliiit as fanii-lalMim'crs: Ui.lnif.s supi'i'inac.v as a fiinii-W(.rkcr:-Roes todnnoiufi-sclionl :— thi' mial iMiiutii s ..f •riirlHiltim : -tarl.\ imMliictinii.s : i uial roiu t.sliip ; Kiiko.swiild :-nul.v lltiiary nim's- poiid.iirL':- I'"t'Mis wrltt.-ii at I.oi'lil.-i :- life at Irvine :-.\lls,.ii It.Kl-iL' :-KttiT to his fiillicr: -fi'U'iidsliii. Willi Iticlianl l!i'(iwii;-tit'i;(iiiit's a fiwiiiasdii ;-liailiilnis rluh: -iliseuHsiouai-clul) hull :— JJiivia .Sillai':— OoircspdiidtiHu with .lauius Uuruus •.—birth of an illegitimate tliild.J () cnviiilili' e:irl,v itiys, Wlu-ii (l^uiriiiL; tlic.iiKlittess iilcnHurr's maze. 'I'o i':ui- iiiiii ^juilt imliiii'wii : Iliiw ill ixiliaii>;iil for ripiT tiiiU'K, To fi'il till' f..llii'<, or tlu! iriniea (If olliiis-or in.v own; As has lieou already monlioiied, William Buriies now i|uitted Mount (tlipliaiit for Lofli- lea, in llie parisli of Tarlioltoii, where, for sonic little space, fortune ai>iieared to smile OU Ills industry and frugality.- llohort and Gilbert wore oiiiiiloyed hy their father as reg- ular laliourcrs — ho allowin.g tliem Xl of wages eacli /" /• iniiiHiii ; from which sum, however town of Ayr, and iirohaMy missed not only tlie stimulus of their conversation, hut the kindness that had furnished him Avith his supply, such as it was, of liooks. Jkit tlio main source of his chan.iAO of liahits about tiiis jioriod was, it is eonlbssed on till hands, tlie precocious I'orvour of one of his own turlnilcnt passions. "Ill my seventeenth year," says llurns, "to give my manners a hrusli, I went to a country daneing-school. My father had an unaeoountahle antipathy against tlie.se meet- ings; and my going was, what to this moiuoiit the value of any home-made clothes received , 1 rcpent, in opi.ositioii to his wishes. .My by the youths was exactly deducted, liohert Buriis's person, inured to daily toil, and con- tinually c.\])osod to all varieties of weather, presciilcd, hefore the usual time, every charac- teristic of roluist and vigorous manhood, lie says liimself, that he never feared a coniiiotitor in any species of rural o.vortioii; ami (iilliort Burns, a man of nncommon bodily strengtli, adds, that neither he, nor any labourer he ever saw at work, was c(|ual to the youthful poet, either in the corn-liold, or tlie .severer tasks of the tlirashing-lloor. tlilbert .says, that Cohort's literary zeal slackened consider- ably after their removal to Tarbolton. lie 'was separated from liis acquaintances of the • Letter to Dr. Moore. *|Iii hi.s autoliid^Maphical letter to Dr. Moore father was subject to strong passions; from that instance of disohedionce in mo, he took a sort of dislike to me, which I boliovo was one cause of the dissipation which marked my succeeding year.s. 3 1 .say dissipation, conipara- ""T wonder," sa.ys tlillicrt, "how Itoliert ciuild attrlliute to onr fattier that lasting reseiitnieiit of his goiii^' to a diiiieiii^i-sclioul against lii.s will, of which he was incapalile. I lielicve tlie truth was, tliat ahinit this time lie licjiaii to see the dangerous iiiii>et- uosit.v of mv lirothcr's jiassioiis, as well as his not lieintj ainenalile to eoimsel, wliicli often irritated my father, and wliiih he Would iiaturall.v think a daneiii}:- .sehoiil was not liliely to correct. l!ut he was iiroud of IJobcrfs irenius, which he bestowed more exjieiise oil cultivating than on the rest of the famil.v— and be was eiiually (leli.i;hted with his warmth of heart, and conversational jiowers. He had indeed that dislike of danciiisr-sclioids whieli Koliert mentions; tmt so far overcame it duriii-.' ttobert's first month of atten- Burns sa.v.s, "Tlie nature of the baroain was sueh as ' dance, that he ]ierinitted the rest of the family that to throw a little ready money into his (the father's) i were (It for it, to accompany him during the second hand.i at tlie eoininencement of his lease, otlierwise ; month. Kobert excelled in dancing, and was for the alt'air wonlil have been impracticable.' I'rolialily some time distiaetedly fond of it." [Gilbert here the landlord advanced some money in lieu of better , refers to a later period at Tarbolton, during the house accommodation, or for certain iinprovemeiits , time when the father was laid down in his last illness, to be effected. 'I'lie rate of wages at which the and when the strictness of his rules would ntvessarily brothers were paid was tli.it current at the time.] | be relaxed. The "country dimcing-school" of the VOL. 1. 2 22 LIFE UF KOJJKUT UUliNS. tivcly with tho strict iios.i, and wobriety, ami i-uKularity of I 'realty toriaa rouiitry lilL-; lor tlioiigli tlio Will-o'-wisp meteors of tlioiitjlitlcsK wliim wore almost, the sole liiiiits of my path, yet early iiigniiiied piety ami virtue k.pl me for several years afterwards within the line of innoei.'iiee. Tho irreat niisfortuno of my life was to want an aim. I saw my father's sitna- tion entailed on me periieliial lahour. The only two openings by whieh 1 could enter the temple of fortune, were the uate of iii^wirdly economy, or the path of little ehii'anin.i; har- piin-niakin,!,'. Tho first is so contracted an aperture, I could never squeeze myself into it;— the last I always hated — there was con- tamination in the very entrance ! Thus aban- doned of aim or view in l'*'e, with ii strong appetite for sociability, as well from native hilarity, as from a jirido of observation and remark ; a constitutional melancholy or hyjio- chondriacism that made mc fly solitude; add to these incentives to social life, my reputation for iiookish knowledge, a certain wild loi;ical talent, and a strength of thought, something like the rudiments of good sense; and it will not seem surprising that I was generally a welcome guest where I visited, or any great wonder that, always where two or three met together, there was I among them. Hut far lieyond all other impulses of my heart, Avas nil jti'iic/ii'iil jioiti' I'liilonihli' vioilif' ilu ijitiri' hviiKtin. !My heart was completely tinder, and was eternally lighted n]) by s(une goddess or other; and, as in every otlier warfare in this world, my fortune was various, sometimes I was receivcil with favour, and sometimes 1 was mortified with a repulse. At the plough, scythe, or rcap-liook, I feared no competitor, and thus I set alisohite want at defiance; ami as I never eared further for my labours tjian while I was in actual exercise, I spent the evenings in the way after my own heart. A country lad seldom carries on a love adven- ture without an assisting confidant. 1 pos- sessed a curiosity, zeal, aiul intrepid dcxtcrify, that recommended me as a proper second on these occasions, and 1 dare say, I felt as much pleasure in being in the secret of half the loves of the parish of Tarbnlton, as ever did statesman In knowing the intrigiioM of half the courts of Murojic. " In regard t(» the same critical periofl of IJurns's life, his excellent brother writes as text is one which Burns secretly attended at Dalrym- ple in 17"o, in absolute dL-flnnce of his fatlier's com- mands. ] liollon parish (extending from (he seventeenth to the twenty-fourth (d" my brother's age)' were not marked by much literary improve, incnt ; but, during this lime, the fonndaiioii was laid of certain habits in my brother's char- acter, which afterwards became but loojiroinin- ent, and which malice and envy have lakin delight to enlarge on. Thonuli, when yonn'j-, he was bashful and awkward in his intercourse withwomen, yet when heaiiproached manhood, his attaclinu'iit to their society became vi'ry strong, and he was constantly the victim of some fairenslaver. Thcsymptomsof his passion were often sindi as nearly to e<|nal lho>e of the ceK'- brated .'^ap[iho. I never indeed knew that he I'itiiilcil, ■•>niik\ inid iliiil iiiriii/; Imt the agita- tions of his mind and body exceeded anylhin;; of the kind 1 ever knew in real life. lie had always a jiarticnlar Jcabuisy of people who were richer tjjan himself, or who hail riore conscipiencc in life. His love, therefore, rarely settled on persons of this description. Wiien he selected any on(> out (d' the sover- eignty of his good pUasure to whom he should pay his particular attention, she was instantly invested with a snflii'ient .-tock of charms, out of the plentiful stores of his own imauinatiiui ; and there was often a great ilis.-iniilitmle between his fair captivator, us she ajipeared to others, and as she seemed when invested with the attributes ho gave her. One geriorally reiiined ])aramount in his aU'ections; but as Yiu-ick's affections poured out toward Jfadame do Ii — at the remise dom-, while the etern.d vows of i;iiza were upon hini, so I!ol)ert was frequently encouiiterin'^- other attractions, I whieh formed so niany underjdols i!i the ' drama r(ive- lie, tlie inillidaliiiil iiiv lirollier's elmr- iiie liiil (oil ]iri)iniii- eiivy liiive lakeii iiiijli. wlieii voniiL', I ill liis iiileri'miisi! )roaeiie(l iiiaiiiioiMl, I'iety liecanie very tlie victim oi'sdiiie iniilitii(ie as she ajipeared tii hen invested witli One Lieiierally afl'eetions; iiiit as ut toward ^ratlaine , while the eternal lin, so Ivoliert was other attractions, inderjilots in the iir, love, and danc- aini" fdiind leisure iiiHicieiiily varioi's }s. J t was as early hat he wrote .some ully : ently from Hie nine- iif Ills atre.l Hums (lh08), p. 2i-2. LIFE OF llOBKUT ni'llNS. S3 I iiivaiii'd I lay wliciu tliiwers were gprhiging lliivly ill tlie siiiiiiy lu'iiin ; LlMtciiiiiK 111 llic Willi liinls KJiiKiiiK, lly a falling cr.tHtal stream, .^tiai^'lit the Kky uww lilai U anil ilarliiu, Tlirii' tlic wihjiIh tlic wliiiiwiiiils lave, '•'ivcs with aucil ariiiM were waiiiiiK, O'er the swi'lliiiic ilniiiillc wave. turbid Siiili was life's ileicitful iiioriiiiin, Ac. On coni]iariii!,' these verses with those on " liandsdine Nell," the advance achieved liy the yoiiiii; hard in the course of two short years must lie re,u:ariled with admiration; nor Hhouhl a minor cirenmstiince he entirely over- looked, that in the jiiece wliicli we have just heen (luotinj;, there occurs Imt one Scotch word, [t WiiH uhdut tills time also, tliiit he wrote a hallail of much less ainhitious vein, which, years alter, he says, he used to con over with deli<,dit, hecanse of the lailhfiiliicss with which it recalled In liiiii llic circuinslaiiees and fceliiiijs of his (i[ic,iiiin- inaiihiiod. — My fatlici- was a farmer ii|>i>ii the ('.iriick border, And can fully lie lii'iai'/ht, iiie ii|) in decency and order. He liade nie act a iii;iiily piiit, tlio' I Imd iie er a far- tldn^'; For williiiiit an laaiest ni;inly lieait, no man was woitli renardin^'. Tlieii (lilt into the world my coaisc I did determine; T/ki' Ui he rirli (('».■< iml iiiii ir!.sli, i/el lu he. ijirnt ivii.i chantiinti ; VytuV'nlx thvij mir nut the wm-xt, iwr jiel niij nliicn- tiiin ; Ecsolvcd was I .It lea>t to Iry t" meiiil in,\ sitiiidion. •••■•■••.... No help, U(ir lioiie, nor view liad I, nor person to liefi'ieiid me; Bo I iinr-l toil, iind sweat, and limil, and tilioiir to sustain me. To plough and sow, to rea)! nnd mow, my father hied me early ; tov one, he said, to lahoar hi'eil, was a match for fortaiK- fairly. Tlnis all ohseure, unkiiowii and poor, thro' life I'm doom'd to wander; Till down my weary Imnes I lay in everlastini.! sliimlier. No view, nor eare. hat .slmn whate'er nii.^ht hreeil me pain Of sorrow; I live to-day, as wells I may, ret,'ardlc.ss of to-mor- row, Ac. These are the only two of his very early produetion.s in which avc have nothins? express- ly aliout love. The rest were eomiiosod to celelirafe tlie charms of those rural beauties who followed each other in the dominion of his fancy— or Hliiire liU own story. "A oinunistaiiii'," says lie,' "whioh iiiailo Hoiiie altoniiion on my mind and niaiinors, was, that i spout my ninotounlli snmmor-' on a smim%'Iini;'n)a^t,a,u:ood illstanoo from home, lit. a noloil sohool,-' to h-arn inonsuralion, siir- voyiiii;, iliallinLT, Ac, in wliicli I niado a n'ood jironToss. Hut I mado a «roator proj,M-oss in tiio knowledge of mankind. Tlie oontial)and trado was at tliat time very sucoessl'iil, and it Fomotimos iiiip[)onod to mo to fail in witli iIiom' will) oarriod it on. Hocncn of swa.u.uferinK riot and roariii'j; dissipation wore till this time now to mo; hut I was no cnoniy to sooial life. Here, thouijh I learnt to fill my .iflass, and to mix Avitliout foar in a drunken s(inal)hlo, yet 1 wont on with a hiuh hand with my f,'('oniotry, till the sun entered Vir!,'o, a month which is always a carnival in my hosom, when a oliarm- ' AutiilijiiKraiilikal Itttor to Dr. Mooro. -|l)r,riinloailniltsli!iviiiKaltero(l"sevoiitoi'Mtli, "as written liy r.anis, to " nliK'tooiitli," as it stands in the text; liut lioyiiiKl tlic statonii'iit tliat tlio altoratinn was niailo at tlio snttiiostiim of (iilliort linnis, im roasiiM is (jivoii. Cnrriu's oilitinn of liuniss works, witli lifo, was jiiililislioil in ISlli) ([.ivorpool, I vols.) for lirliiMpf of the willow and family of tlii' poot.l ^ I'l'lif jiarisli scliool of Kirkoswald, tlio toaclior of wliiili, Unu'li Uod^jcr, eiijoyod Ki'oat local faiiio as a noiiniotiiciau and piactical land-surveyor. 'I'lic jMiot s inollier was a native of tlio jiarisli, and diiriiik' Iliirns's attendance at tlio Holiool lie lived with his niatcrnal uncle, Siinmcl lirowii, at Itallochiicil, a little over a iiiilo fioni Kirkoswald villano, walking ovi'iy inoiniii',' to the little Honiiiiary and returiiiunat nlKht. Not far from lialloehncil was the farm of Slianter, the resideiioo of the immortal "'I'aiu <>' Sliaiiter," whose real name was I)oiis,'his Graham. The accoinpanyitif! engraving kivos n view of the chiiroliyard ami village of Kirkoswald, with the tomlistouc of Tain in the forc.ijrouiid. The artist, hnwevor, while Kiviii;; the form of the stone oorrectly, lias taken the liherty of putting this worthy's fictitious a]iitcllatioii ou it, and ha.s roprcscuted his tailless mare droopiu;; her head over the (jrave and his ilo},' lyin^'oii it, wl lite his w i foKnto sits a "waefii' woman " on 11 iieiKliliourin^' stone. In reality the inscriptions on the stone are of the usual typo. In the clinrch- yard are also the jjravcs of Uiirns's matcrniil Rraiid- fat'icr and great trrandtather, whose tombstone was publicly restored in 1883.] LIFK OF ROBERT UFRNS ciin'l Iwjill'/I', "ho lived 110x1 door to the -ohon!, overset my triuonomotry, and set nie oil' at a tantteiit from the sphere of niy slndies. I, however, HtriiKicled on with my Mhii'x and roihiiM for a few days more; lint sleppint,' into the fjardon one eharinini,' noon to taku the sun's altitude, there I mot my aiiKel like I'roHorpliie, RatlierliiK MowerH, Herself a fairer llowcr. " It was in vain to think of doimr any more e-ood at -school. Tlio lomaininn week I staid, I did 1101 hing but enizo the I'ueultleM of my Mill alioul. her, or steal out to meet her; and the two l.ist ni,i;lils of my slay in this ooiiiitry, had .sleep lieen a mortal sin, the ima,u;o of thi- modost and ini I'lit ,!,'irl had kept me ifiiilt- loss.i '• I rotiirnod home very eonsidoralily im- proved. My ro.idiiru; was enl.iri^ed with the very imjiortant addition of 'riionison's and Shonstoiio's works; I had hi •' ' ''iinian natiiru ij;t'(i several oi' my literary eorrespoii- P()Vi'(' me in eoni- •olK'cliiiM (if K'tters reifxii, and I jiored I ke|i! coiiics of [•leased mc ; and a 1(1 tlieeomiiositioii cuts llai'ered my liim so far, that irthinj^s' worth of almost, every j)ost as if I had lieeii diook and ledger, in the same eoiirsc Vli'c ('((niniii; d sole prini'i])les of more authors to pleasure: Sterne S/hiiiiIi/ and the bosom favourites, ilk for my mind ; 1 aeeording to the i the pnet calls Iicr, 10 curly attiiclimiiit nipDi'iirily sninc nine liiiic tlic wife (if .Iciliii if the poet's. On till! 'iitcil a copy to I'cuKy inning "Once loiiUly •," Ac] ■w. ■J: I 3 B y ^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^H ^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^H ^^^^H ft r*^ i& ^'-i IV ►«i O fi] '^ h^ t m^ the .s;( 1)C(I(I( with pci'lial and ll «d(Ic(]| thou tinio had III becaiii Til dkl cc-l men-ill Scotc .^' LIFE OF EGBERT BURNS. humour of the hour. 1 had usually half a dozen or more pieces on hand ; I took up one or other, as it suited the momentary lone of the mind, and dismissed the work as it bordered on fatigue. My passions, once lighted up, raged like so many devils, till they found vent in rhyme; and then the conning over my verses, like a spell, soothed all into quiet." Of the rhymes of those days, a few, when he wrote his letter to .Moore, Iiad appeared in print. " Winter, a Dirge, " an admirably versi- fied piece, is of their number; the "Death of I'oor Mailie, Mailie's Elegy," and "John JJarleyeorn ;" and one cliarming song, inspired l)y the Nymph of Ivirkos-.vald, whose attractions put an end to his trigonometry. N'dw wt'stlin' winds, and slaughtering guns, liriiig Autumn's i]lc'asiint weather; The miiurciuk springs, im wliirring wing, Annnig tlie hlouniing Iieather. . . . — lVf;;;.v dear, tlie evening's elear, 'I'liiek Hies tlie skimming swaUow; 'J'lie slv.v is l)hie, (lie fiehls in view, All fueling green and yellow; ('i)iiie lot us stray our gladsunio way, etc. "John Harleycorn" is a clever old ballad, very cleverly new-modelled and extended ; but the "Dcatii and Elegy of Poor Mailie" de- serve more attention. The expiring animal's Admonitions touching the education of the •'poor toop lamb, her >on and heir," and the "yowie, siilic thing," her daughter, arc from |he same peculiar vein of sly homely wit, em- bedded upon fancy, which he afterwards dug with a bolder hand in the "Twa Dogs," and perhaps to its utmost deptli, in his "Death and Doctor Hornbook." It need scarcely be JMlded, that I'oor .Mailie was a real iicrsonage, though she did not actually die until some time after her last words were written. She had been purchased by lUirns in a frolic, and became exceedingly attached to his person. >;i Tlud' all the town she tmtted hy him, A laiig half-mile she eoiild desery liini ; \Vi' kindly bleat, when she (!id s]iie Iiini, She ran wi' speed; A friend iiiair faithfu' ne'er eame nigh him, 'I'han .Mailie dead. v^Tliese little pieces are in a much broader Lir and for the world, i it was not always in the recollections of his ! virtuous home and (he study of his Bible, ' that Burns souglit for consolation amidst the heavy distresses which "his youth was heir to." Irvine is a small seaport; and here, as at Ivirkoswald, the adventurous spirits of a smuggling coast, with all their jovial habits, were to be met with in abundance. "He contracted some acquaintance," says Gilbert, "of a freer manner of thinking and living than he had been used to, whose society pre- • [The tenants of TarholtoTi Mill, the "Willie's Jlill" of " Death ami Dr. Hornbook. 'J pared him for overleaping the bounds of rigid virtue, which had hitherto restrained him." I owe to Jlr. I{obert Chambers, author of Trailitiona of Edhilmnjli, the following note of a conversation which he had in June, 1826, with a respectable old citizen of this town : — • "Burns was, at the time of his residence among us, an older-looking man than might \\a,\M been expected from his age — very darkly complcxioned, with a strong eye — of a thought- ful appearance, amounting to what might be called a gloomy attentivcness ; .so much so, that when in company which did not call forth his brilliant powers of conversation, he might often be seen, for a considerable .space to- gether, leaning down on his palm, with his elbow resting on his knee. He Avas in common silent and reserved ; but when he found a man to his mind, he constantly made a point of at- taching himself to his company, and endeav- ouring to bring out his powers. It was among women alone that he uniformly exerted him- self and uniformly .shone. People remarked even then, that when Robert Burns did speak, he always spoke to the point, and in general with a sententious brevity. His moody thoughtfulne.ss, and laconic style of expression, were both inherited from his father, who, for his station iu life, was a very singular person. " [ The tissue of Burns's thoughts and habits was a mixed one. He is found in Irvine, at one time amusing himself with di.sputes in churchyards on ])oints of C'alvinistic the logy, at anotiicr en joying the society of the loo.se char- acters of a smuggling seaport ; again bewailing hi.", being jilted by "a hcllc /il/i" whom he had adored, at another time entering upon a connection which ended in his enduring public censure before a congregation, and fiiudly writing that letter to his father, in which he expresses himself tired of the world, and transported at the thought that he shall soon 1)0 in a better. Who could expect, from the desponding and moralizing tone of that letter that, four days after, he would be engaged in the New- Year merry-making, in the cour.se of which his shop caught fire and was reduced to ashes !] Burns himself thus sums up the results of Ills residence at Irvine : — " From this adven- ture I learned .something of a town life ; but LIFE OF EOBEET BUENS, the principal tiling which gave my ni ind ii David Silhir's letter to Mr. Aiken of Ayr turn, was a fell o\v, a vcrv nob friendship I formed witli a young (part of winch is given further on), proves the lie character, liiit a hapless liberality of the views held by nurn< prior to af misfortune. He wa.s the .son o f a his residence in Irvine; lie had in iiis simple ciumie ; but a great man in the youth paid considerable attention to the ts for and against the doctrine of original the lakiu: considerable noise in your neighbourhood, taking him under his patron- mei age, gave him a genteel education, with a view sin, of bettering his situation in life. The patron neighbourhood, and having perused Dr. dying just as he was ready to launch out into ; Taylor's work on that subject, and Lifl>rs the world, the poor fellow in despair went to i on IMh/ion EiwiifkU to M- liut he spoke of illicit love with the levity of tiou took place in the St. David's Lodge in a sailor — which liithcrto I had regarded with j June, 1782, and the sei)arating body, to which horror. liar his fritiidili!/) iJ'nl uf a mix- ' Durnsadherctl, reconstituted themselves under chief." [Tlu' young man here referred to was the old charter, dated 1711, as the St. .lanics's IJichard Hrown, with whom lJurn.s kept up an ! Tarbolton Lodge, of which he subsccpicntly after correspondence, and who was one of the i officiated as Depute Master.] first to discern his latent gcni\is, and to cncour- ' "lihynie," Hums says, "I had given up" age liim to aspii-e to the character of a jioet. (on going to Irvine); "but meeting with Fer- AVheu the contents of Hums' Letter to Moore gusson's Scotti.fh Pormn, I strung anew my were related to hi.n, he exclaimed, "Illicit, wildly-sounding lyre with emulating vigour. " love! levity of a sador! When 1 first knew Neither tlax-dressi..g nor the tavern could Hums he had nothing to learn in thai respect. '] keep him long from his ])roper vocation. Hut Professor Walker, when preparing to write it was probably this accidental meeting with liis sketch of the Poet's ^fe, was informed by Fergussoii, that in a great measure finally de- an aged inhabitant of Irvine, that Hurns's terniined the " Scottish " character of Hurns's chief delight Avhilc there was in discussing poetry; and, indeed, but for the lasting sense religious topics, particularly in those circles of this obligation, and some natural symjiathy which usually gather in a Scotch churchyard with the personal misfortunes of Fergusson's after service. The senior added that Burns life, it would be difficult to account for the commonly took the high t'alvinistic side in very hii:h terms in wiiich Burns always men- such debates; and concluded with a boast, tions his productions, "that the lad" was indebted to himself in a Shortly before Burns went to Irvine, ho, his great measure for the gradual adoption of "more liberal opinions," [a statement that seems more than doubtful. It is well known that his early training jiartook little of extreme Calvinism, and the following extract from brother (I ilbert, and some seven or eight young ' ("Litters (I iiRLTniiiKtlicKfligion Essential to. Man, as it i.s clistinct fnim wliat is muifly an atix'ssi(ju to it. In twi) parts: translatcil from tliu Frcncli. Glasgow, printed for Uoliert I lie, 1701."] LIFE OF ROBERT BURNS. 29 Uken of Ayr n), proves the IJuriM prior to c had ill his II to the iirifii- iiic of oriuiiial noise ill your perused ])r. , iiiid Litd rn iViieii he ciiiiie if coiist'inu'iico L'0])le eall tiie i,i;iitest insiii- de liis iR'ii:li- avoid liiiii, a.s )aiiion. "] iod, that tlic iiiystorii's of ■* his liroliior, life of a hooii to St. David's Liikiiie, a very le talents, to leliial epistle, ?. [A disrti]!- id's liOdue in pody, to which iiiselves under le St. .Iaiiies'.s subse(pieii11y ad given ii])" iiig with Fer- inii; anew my it ill};; vigour." tavern eould iieation. 15ut nieetinj; with ire finally de- ler of jjurns's lasIiiiL;' sense ral sympathy r Fergiisson's .•omit for the i always inen- rvine, lie, his r eight young ssuiitiallD.Maii, ly an acrussiou III the Fit'iicli. lit."] men besides, all of the parish of Turlmlton, had formed themselves into a society, which they called the bachelor's C'liilt; and which met one evening in every month for the purposes of mutual entertainment and im- pnivement. Tliat their ciqis were hut modest- ly tilled is evident; for the rules of the chih did not permit any member to spend more than threepence at a sitting. A question was announced for discussion at the close of each meeting; and at tlic next they eamc prepared to deliver their sentiments npon the subject- matter thus jiroposed. 15urns and David Sillar (to Avhom the " Kpistlc to ])avie, a ]5rother-poct " was afterwards addressed, and who subse([uently published a volume of verses not without merit) were emjiloyed by the rest to draw up the regulations of th.e Society : and some staii/as prefixed to ,S!li(tr'.i Scroll of I'liles "first introduced Hums and him to each other as brother rhymers."' Of the sort of cpieslioiis discussed, we may form some notion from the minute of one evening, still extant in Hurns's hand-writing. — (2LK«riON fou IIali.owk'kx pi)iiited chief niayistrate oi that town. [It is said that as Sillar grew rich he ;.'i'ew penunous, and that when leiiuested to subserihe to the mausoleum fund and afterwards to the Ayr moiiumeiit to Burns, he refused. lie died in 1S30.] \ 80 LIFE OF ROBERT BURNS. lar colour, I think fillcmot, he wrapi)e(l in ii jmrtii'iilar inannrr nmiid iiis siioulders. Tliosu wunnisos, ami liis exterior, had Hiicha magnot- ical iiitlueiicu on my eiiriosity, as made me particnlarly solicitous of his aequaintanec. Whether my acquaintance with Gilbert was casual or premeditated, 1 am not now certain. By him I was introduced, not only to his brother, but to the whole of that family, wliere in a short time, I became a frc(iuent, and, 1 believe, not unwelcome visitant. After the commencement of my acquaintance with the liard, wc i'rc(|uently met upon Sundays at church, when, between sermons, instead of goini; with our friends or lasses to the inn, we often took a walk in the fields. In these walks, 1 have froiiuently been struck with his facility in addrcssini; the fair se.v: and many time.s, when I have been bashfully anxious how to express myself, he would have entered into conversation with them with the greatest case and freedom; and it was generally a death-blow to our conversation, however agree- able, to meet a female acquaintance. Some of the few opportunities of a noon-tide walk that a country life allow.s her laborious sons, he .spent on the banks of the river, or in the woods in the nei;;hbourhood of Stair, a situa- tion peculiarly adapted to the genius of a rural bard. Some book (generally one of those mentioned in liis letter to ilr. Jlurdoch)' he always carried and read, when not otherwise employed. It was likewi.so his custom to read at table. In one of my visits to Lochlca, in time of a sowon supper, he was so intent on reading, I think Tristram Shandy, that his spoon falling out of his hand, made him ex- claim, in a tone scarcely imit.ible, ' Alas, poor Yorick ! ' Such was Burns, and sueh were his associates, when I was admitted a member of the Bachelor's („lub." 2 The misfortunes of William Burnes thickened apace, as has already been seen, and were ap- proaching their crisis at the time when Kobert came liome from his flax-dressing experiment at Irvine. 1 have been favoured with copies of .some letters addressed by the poet .soon afterwards to his cousin, "Mr. James Burnes.«, writer in ^loutrose," which cannot but gratify 1 15th Januciry. ITS."?. 2 Letter to Jlr. .\ikeii of Ayr, in Morison's Burns, vol. ii. pp. 257-200. every reader.'' They arc worthy of the strong understanding and warm heart of Burns; and, besides opening a pleasing view of the nuuiner in which domestic aflection was preserved between his father ami the relations from whom the accidents of life had siqiarated that excellent person in boyhood, they ajqiear to mo — written by a young and unknown peasant in a wretched hovel, the abode of poverty, care, aiul disease — to be moilels of native good taste and politeness. "Lochlca, 2l8t June, 178U. "Dkak Sill, — .My father received your favour of the loth curt.; and as he has been for some months very poorly in liealth, and is, in his own opinion, and indeed in almost every body else'.s, in a dying condition; he has only, with great dilliculty, written a few farewell lines to each of his brothers-in-law. For this melancholy reasoi', 1 now hold the pen for him, to thank you for your kind letter, and to assure you. sir, that it shall not be my fault if my father's corrcsjiondence in the north die with him. iiy brother writes to .lohn Caird ; and to liir>i 1 must refer you for the news of our family. 1 shall only trouble you Avith a few particulars relative to the present wretched state of this country. Our markets are exceedingly high; oatmeal !"(/. and 18*/. l)er peck, and not to be got even at that price. We have indeed been pretty well supplied with quantities of white peas from Kngland and elsewhere; but that resource is likely to fail us; and what will become of us then, particu- larly the very poorest sort, Heaven only knows. This country, till of late, was nourishing in- credibly ill the manufacture of silk, lawn, and carpet weaving; and we are still carrying on a good deal in that way, but much reduced from what it was. We had also a line trade in the shoe way, but now entirely ruined, and hundreds driven to a starving c(uidition on account of it. Farming is also at a very low ebb with us. Our lands, generally speaking, are mountainous and barren ; anil our landholders, full of ideas of farming gathered from the English and the Lotliians. and other rich soils in Scotland, make no allowance for the odds 3 These letters flrat appeared in the 1S20 re-isBUe of Carrie's edition. LIFE OF ROBERT BURNS. Iiy of the strong I of Hums ; and, wof tlio manner was preserved relations from I sejiarated thai tliev appear to ikiKfwn peasant kIo of poverty, s of native good 2l8t June, 1783. received your us lie lias been in health, and ileed in almost condition ; he , written a few irothers-in-law. now hold the nir kind letter, liiill not be niy ndcnce in the )ther writes to t refer you for ill only trouble e tothc present Our markets I7i/. and ]8(/. II iit that price. I sii))i>Iied with I'^ngland and s likely to fail then, particu- L'li only knows, ilouri.-liiiij,' in- >iik, lawn, and II carrying on much ic of a Douglas, Heron & Co.'s Hank, which no doubt you have heard of, has undone num- bers of them; and imitating English and French, and other foreign lii.xuries and fop- lieries, has ruined as many more. There is a great trade of smuggling carried on along our coasts, which, however destructive to lit one item of ioscs to hlinsclt' 'ic belter; known [ clasli ! KOBHlp nanifestatioa of iuds." 1(1 AnW-Liulits:— '— "Jliily WiUie'H ami liist idta I't i'i|ii!ility <<{ liiiiriaii •:" — West Tiiiliiin viiis :— legal bteps dividual savings Ibert), and was rent lieiii^ COO, is liliiie, on the roiid er fnrnis also liear 1(1 iesi)eetively as ■1, wliile the farm I as Kiist Mdss^'iel. ii wliiili sejiarates the ('essiiDek ami aiity. The house, le-storied eottajie, ly liiKgin," in the been ereeteil liy leipal tenant, as a and his family. It ies of the (lay, and :heu and jiarlour), i-stair fjave aecess, f^arret was divided f whieli were used imlier-rooni. The hted by a skylight % '5 !! prcc / ■sS LIFE OF EOBEET BURNS. 33 I' a joint concern among us.* Every member of the family waa allowed ordinary wages for the labour he performed on the farm. JMy brother's allowance and mine was £7 per annum each. And during the whole time this family concern lasted, as well as during the preceding period at Lochlea, Robert's expenses never, in any one year, exceeded liis slender income." " I entered on this farm," says the poct,^ "with a full resolution. Come, yo to, I ivlK lie witie. I read farming books, I calculated crop.!, I attended markets, and, in short, in f^pite of the (lei'il, and the world, and the flesh, I believe I should have been a vise man; but the first year, from unfortunately buying bad seed, the second, from a late harvest, we lost half our crops. This overset all my wisdom, ab l I returned like the do;/ to his romif, and the S010 that was vmnhed, to her waUowin'j in the mire." " At the time that our poet took the icsolu- tion of becoming irine, he procured," says Gil- bert, "a little book of blank paper, with the purpose expressed on the first page, of making flirmiug memorandums. 'Vhcac fa rtn in;/ memo- ronduvis are curious enough," Gilbert slyly .adds, '-'and a specimen may gratify the reader." 3 — Specimens accordingly he gives, as follows : — wimlow placed in tlio sloping roof, formed the bed- room of tlie two brothers Robert and Gilbert, and con- tained a small tal)le at whieh the poet wrote many of his most famous pieces, with a drawer in which his l)i-oduetio.is were stored. Tlio "ben"end of theliouse wat- the celelirated "spenee" of the "Vision," the sec le of " Coda's" inspiratory visit to tlie bard. In 185./ great alterations were made upon the house. It was completely j^utted, and a story added to it, so that the present substantial two-storied slated build- ing bears little ieseni!dance to the dwelling winch sheltered the poet and his fandly. No portion of tlie original structure now remains except the shell of old walla, which reach half-way up the present. The outhouses which form an ai-de round a paved court are all modern. Gilbert J5unis continued ou the farm till 1800, when he removed to Dinning, in Dmnfries- shire, a farm belonging to Sir C. S. ilentcath of Close- burn.) 1 IWhcn William Burnes die^ his sons and the two eldest daughters ranked as creditors of tlieir father for arrt ius of wages. Tlie farm must have been very imperfectly stocked if they had no more to start with than their joint savings.] - Letter to Dr. Moore. ^ [Thi.? (luotation is in Dr. Cunie's own words, and not ill these of Gilbert Burns as stated in the text.] why the deuce should I repine And 1)0 an ill-foreboder? I'm twenty-three, and Ave foot nine— I'll go and be a sodger, &c. O leave novells, ye Maiichline liclles, Ye're safer at your spinning wheel ; Such witching books are baited hooks For rakish rooks— like Kob Mossgiel. Your fine Tom .Jones and Grandisons, They make your youtliful fancies reel. They heat your veins, aiul fire your brains, Aiul then ye're prey for Kob Mossgiel, &c. die. The four yea'N during which IJurns resided on this cold and ungrateful farm of Mossgiel, were the most important of his life. It wa.s then that his genius developed its highest energies; on the works produced in those years his fame was first est.'blished, and must ever continue mainly to rest : it was then also that his personal character r ame out in all its brightest lights, and in all but its darkest shadows; and indeed, from the commence- ment of this period, the liistory of the man may be traced, step by step, in liis own im- mortal writing.s. Uurns now began to know that Nature had meant him for a poet ; and diligently, though as yet in secret, he laboured in Avhat he felt to be his destined vocation. Gilbert continued for some time to be his chief, often indeed his only confidiHit; and anythiuf; more interesting ami delightful than thisexcell jntman'saccount jf the manner in which the poems included in the first of his brother's publications were composed, is certainly not to bo found in the annals of literary history. The reader ha.^ already seen, that long before the earliest of them avps known beyond the domestic circle, the strength of Burns's under- standing, and the keenness of his 'wit, as dis- played in his ordinary conversation, and more particularly at masonic meetings and debating clubs (of which he formod one in irauchlino, on the Tarbolton model, immediately on his removal to Jlo.ssgiel), had made his name known to some considerable extent in the country about Tarbolton, jNfauchline, and Irvine; and thus prepared the way for his poetry. Professor Walker gives an anecdote on this head, which must not be omitted ; Hums already numbered several clergymen among his acquaintances; indeed, we know from himself, that at this period he was not a airr'rain»ii'Tr liT-mmn mr n 34 LIFE OF EGBERT BURNS. littlo lliif tcrcd. and jiisOy so, no (juostion, with in oonvorsalion-partios on Su.idays, at funerals, boinjriionnitti'd to mingle oooasionally in thoir ito.. used to nuzzle (.'alviuisin with so nuu'li soeiety.' One of these centlenien told tl'.e heal and indiseivlion, thai 1 raised the hue professor, that al'ier enlerinir on the elerieal and ery o( heresy against me, whieh has not profes.^ eonipany, "where," s;iid he he had r.^peatedly met Hum;- in < eeaseil to this hour." There are some plain •the aeuteuess allusions to this matter in Mr. Havid Miliar": and oriuiuality displayed by him. the de[lh letter, already tiuoted : aiul a friend has told .Mian (.'uuniniiham "ihat he tirsi saw Hums siaiid- ' on ilie afiernoou of ilie .Momlav o( ,i Mauehlino of his diseerument, the I'l.ive i>f his express! and the autiioriiatiNeriiercv ;s under injr, Iiad ereated a sense o( his power, of the ! siu'ninienl. lounuinj; on horsebaek at the iloor extent of wliieh 1 was tiiieouseious. till it was of a luiblie-liouse, holilinir forlli on reliirious revealed to me by aei'idenl. (Mi the oeeasion to]nes to a whole erowd of eouniry peo|ile. who of my seeond appeaianee in Ihepulpit. I CMUie jneseiuly beeaine so mtieh slioeked »iih his with an assured and inimpiil miiul. and ihoimii a few per-oMs o( eduealion were (uvsenl. ad- ' i"'''''*l'''av liiirns, who was of a diirerenl n'utiiiv. We have had a party of the I'lvsbxter.v parish, unexpeeiedlv enter the ehuivh, 1 was "'''''• •" ""'> '■'" themselves, for soi.ie time in this ,,- . 1 -.1 , " 1 1 e.iimtrv. A ]lrelt^ thriviui; s>Hiit\ of them ha.s heeu alteeted with a tremor and eml>aiTas>uieii . :„ ,., , „„. i, f i, • t. ., . in the liuigh of M'vme for some \i'ai-s ]iast, till aliout whieh suddenly apprised me of the impivssion two years ago. a Mrs. ihuhau'fiom lUasgow eamo whieh my niiiul. unknown to itself, hail pre- ami began to spreail some fanatieal notions of nligion amoui;- them, aiiil. in a slunt time, maiie man\ eon- ViTts among them. ami. among others, tlu ir inviu-lii'v, one Mr. \\li\te, «lui, ui>on that aeeoniit. has been >nspcnileil ami fiMinally ihpost.l by his brethren. Ill' lontinueil. however, to pieakh in private to hi; pan,\,an.l wassniipinteil. b>ith he. aiiil their spirtual mother, as they all'eet to rail ol.l Ihuhan. by the eontrilMitions I'f the rest, several of whom were in . . gooil liremn^taiut's: till, in spring last, the ]>oiMilaee tension to undeiMaudini;', is a tlu ilouieal ''"'''•'"''"'•''''"''• the oM leaiUr r.uehan. ami |iut her eriiie— at least sueh nw the ease- and Burns ""' •"' ""' '"""^ •'" "''''''• "" ''vr i"ollo»,.|-s voluu- no doubt, had lon^ ere this time dis,in^ui>hed XnuuTtnu.^'lf'!^!^:'''^^^^^^^ ,. -1 ,, , , " "P"Ui,>n. tliat man) of them nevir shut then' iloors himselt eonsi,ler:ibly amoiiu: those hafil-headed boliin>l them: one left n washing on thr green, another viously reeeived." 'I'lie pr-'essor adds, ili.it the person who had llnis uneonseiously been measurinir the stature of the inielleetual eiant. was not only a man of good talent> and eduea- tion, but "reiiiark.ihle for a more thao ordi- nary ]ioriion o\' eonstiiutioiird tirinr.ess."-' Kvery Seoleh pe.isan' who makes ai y pre- jrroups that may usually be seen irathered to- sreiher in the ehurehyard after the .-erviee is over. 1; m.ay be uue^sed. that from the time ot his residenee at Irvine, his strietiires were too ot'ten delivered in no reverent vein. ••IVlemieal divinity." >ays he to Dr. Moore, in 17Sr. "about this time, was puttimr the eountry half mad. ''and 1. ambitious of shiniii': ' Letter to l>i-. Mviore. fiib iiiilio. - Life i>rell\eil to Morisons /Jioii.v. p. xlix. ITlie a eow lifllowing at the erib without meat, or any body to miml lur: ami. aftir several stages, they ni-e live.l at pivsent in the neighbourhood iif liumfries. riieir tenets are a strange jumble of enthusiastie .'argon: among othei-s. she pntduls to giM them the Holy lihost by breathing on them, whioh .-he does with postures and i>iaitioes that are siandalously indeeent ; they have likewise dis|Mised of all their elliets. and hold a eoiinnuuity of gooils. and live nearly an idle life, earrxiug on a great faiee of pre- temled devotion in barns and woods, wlieiv thev lodg-e and lie all togitlier, and hold likewise a eoni- nnmity of women, as it is another of their tenets ihat ele.^:yman here ivferred to is l>r. Alexandor Niv.n. th.y ean eommit no moral sin. I am ina^onallv m , ' •' •.'""'-: ' ""'^"^ >" '''^""'■^- "'"<>!-' "* tutor in the above m.ntionol aiv fa> ts. ' the Jim. y ot Hannlton of Snndrum. in the parish of |Kls,v.h sim,.sou or l^n.hau was a native of Pantf, ^ The following aooount of the m.,.„u.. . set of "li;;" •'• u^J.^' 'f ' Z\--':T^ '''"T ""T""' im. n,ui,iu\i was m^t Lneky lUielmn interml with him.] LIFE OF ROBERT BURNS. 35 i, lit fnnonUs, ith so niiu'li isod tlio liuo liii'li ha^ not > some plain bvi(i Sil'ar's L'lul has told t s;»\v nurns a Maiu'liliiio c at till" iloor on ivliLTious ■ pooi>lo, who ;o(l with his ist, 1TS4, "Wo 10 most extra- mill, wliiiii, 1 SI' of this last lio I'lvsliNtt'iy ,10 tiiiio in this tlioin lias boon I'list. till atiout (ilasuow oamo ions of rolicioii ailo many oon- tlu ir i>ro:'.oh''v, >nnt. lias boon liis tavtlnvn. privalo to hi; tlioir spii'tual juiiiaii, liy tho Lvliom woro in \. tho vopulaoe II. anil put hor llowois Yoliin- « ith siioh j>ro- 111 thoir il'iora i;i'oon, anothor moat, or any ta>;os. thoy rtit> 1 ol' Ihiiiifrios. f iiitliiisiastio j;i\i thorn the liii h -ho lioos soaniialonsly il of .all thoir Is. a.ul live t faiio of jav- "lioiv thoy ko«iso a ooni- I ir tonots ihat IH'i^onally ao- aii a.ssnro >ou itivo of r;iistr, ol>oit Hiiohan, ui to pni] liosy joinoil Wliyfe ha.l loft tiiat II CiMobotfonl, tho bones of lovitics, that thov fairly hissed hini from the ground." To understand liurns's situation at this time, at oiu'e patronized by a nunilier of elergy- men, and attended with "a hue and cry of heresy," we must rememlier iiis own words, that "polemieal divinity was puttiiiir the eoiiiitry half mad." Of lioth the parties whieh, ever siiiee the Itevolulion of lti8S. have pretty oiiually divided the (.'liuivh of Scotland, it so hariuMied tiiat some of tlie most zealous and e.mspiouous leaders and partisans were then opposed to eaeh other, in eonstant warfare, in tiiis partieular distriet ; and their feuds heinc: of eoiirse taken upamonu' ilieir eoiiirreirations. and spleen and iirejudiee at work, even more furiously in the eoltauc than in t/ic mttii)s serupulous seet of the two that enjoyed the eo-operation, sueli as it was then, and far more iinpoij.uii. as ill the seijuel it eanie to be. of (V.ir poet. Wiliiain Hiinies. as we have already seen. t]unii;h a '" -'St e.Kemplary and devout man. oiitertaiiied oiiinions very ditlereni from those whiili eommonly obtained among the rigid Calviiiists of his distriet. 'I'lie worthy and pious old man himself', therefore, lunl not im- IHMbably iiifiisevl into his son's mind its tiivt l>roiudiee auainst these iH>rsoiis; iliough. had he lived to witness the manner in whieh l!obert ;iss;iiled them, there ean be no doubt his sorrow woulil have eipLiUed his anuer. The jovial spirits with whoiu Hums a>s,u'iated a; Irvine, and al'ierwards. were ot'eourse habitual deriders I't" tlie manners, as well as the tenets of the Oitlu.iiox. ortlu'ilox, wlia luiiovo in .lolin Knox. We have already obsorved the etfee; of the young poet's own first oolli>ion with the ruling powers of rre>byieriaii di~oipliiie ; but it was in the very aet of settling at Mossuiel thai Burns formed the eonneetion. whieh, more than any eireumstanee besides, intlueneed him as UI the matter now in question. The farm belonged to the estate of the Earl of Loudoun, but the brothers held it on a sub-lease from Mr. (lavin Hamilton, writer (i.e. attorney), in Mauehline, a man, by every aeeount, of engaging manners, open, kind, generous, ami high-spirited, between whom and IJobert Hurns, in spite of eonsideralde ineiiuality of eondition, a elose and intimate friendship was ere long formed. Just about this time it happened that Hamilton was at open feud with ^Ir. Aiild. the minister of Mauihline (tlie same who luul already rcl'iikid the poet), and the ruling elders of the parish, in eonse- iliicnee of eeriain irregularities in his personal eonduet and deportment, whieh. aeeordinii' to the usual siriet notions of kirk-diseipline. were eonsitlered as fairly demanding the viirorous intert'erenee of these authorities. The noiiee of this pei-son, his own landlord, and. as it would seem, one of the prineipal inhabitants of the village of .Maueliline at the time, must, of eoiirse, have been very flatiering to our IHilemieal young farmer. He es]ioused (iavin Hamilton's tpiarrel warmly. Hamilton was naturally enough disposed to mix up las personal affair with the standing eoniroversies whereon .Vuld was at varianee with a lariie and power- ' fill body of his brother eleryyiiien : and by I degrees the Maueliline writer'> ariKiit jiroinje eame to be as vehemently interested in the ' ehtireh-polifies of Avrsliire. as he eould have been in polities o'i another order, had he liap- ; pened to be a freeman of some ojien borounii, I and his patron a eaiulidafe for the honour of I representing it in St. Stephen's. t'romek has been severely eritieiseil for some details of (iavin Hamilton's dissensions with his jiarish minister:' but jHrhaps it might I have been well to limit the eensure to the ' tone and >i>irit o( the narrative.'-' sin, -e there is i no doubt that these petty s.]uabbk's had a j large share in direeting the early energies of ' Ruriis's jHietieal talents. Even in the we>t of I Seoiland. sueh matters would hardly exei;e ] mueh notiee nowadays, but they were i|uite enough to produee a world of vexation and eontroversy forty years ago; and the EngHsh reader, to whom all saeh details are denied, , will eeriainly never be able to eomprehend either the merits or the demerits of many of I Hurns's most remarkable produitions. Since 1 Filinlniriih licrii'ir, vol. xiii. p. 073. • Jtt'li'iufs, ji. lt',4. Ac. 36 LIFE OF EGBERT BUENS. I have touched on tliia matter at all, I may as well add, that Hamilton's family, though pro- fessedly adhering (as, indeed, if they wore to be Christians at all in that district, they must needs have done) to the Presbyterian Estab- lishment, had always lain under a strong sus- picion of Episeopalianism. Gavin's great grandfather had been curate of Kirkoswald in the troubled times tliat preceded the Revolu- tion, and incurred great and lasting popular hatred, in consequence of being supposed to have had a principal hand in bringing a thousand of the "Highland host" into that rcoion in 1677-8. The district Avas commonly said not to have entirely recovered the eflects of that savage visitation in less than a hundred years ; and the descendants and representatives of the Covenanters, wliom the curate of Kirk- oswalil had the reputation at least of persecut- ing, were commonly supposed to regard with anything rather than ready good-will, his descendant, the witty writer of Jlauchlinc. A wcll-nursed prejudice of this kind was likely enough to be met by counter-spleen, and such seems to have been tlic truth of the case. The lapse of another generation has suflicod to wipe out every trace of feuds, that Avcre still abundantly discernible, in the days when .■■:shire first began to ring with the equally y.c.\] (US applause and vituperation of — Poet Burns, And his priest-skelpiiiy turns. It is impossible to look back now to the civil war, which then raged among the chui'ch- mcn of the west of Scothmd, without confess- ing, that on either side there was much to regret, and not a little to blame. Proud and hauglity spirits were unfortunately opposed to each other; and in tlie superabundant display of zeal as to doctrinal points, neither party seems to have mingled much of the charity of the Christian temper. The whole exhibition was most unlovely — the spec acle of such indecent violence among the le.i.iing etLlesi- astics of the district, acted unfavourably on many men's minds — and no one can doubt, that in the at best unsettled state of Robert Burns's principles, the unhappy effect must have been powerful iiulccd as to him. Macgill and Dalrymple, the two ministers of the town of Ayr, had long been suspected of entertaining heterodo.v opinions on several points, iiarticularly the doctrine of original sin aiul tiio Trinity ; and the former at length published an essaj', which was considered as demanding the notice of the church courts. Jlore than a year was spent in the discussions which arose out of this; and at last Dr. ^Macgill was fain to acknowledge his errors, and promise that lie would take an early opportunity of apologizing for tliem to his own congregation from the pulpit — vhich promise, however, he never perfiumed. The gentry of the country took, for the most part, the side of .Aiacgili, who was a man of cold unpopular manners, but of unrcproached moral character, and pos- sessed of some accomplishments, though cer- tainly not of distinguished talents. The bulk of the lower orders espoused, with far nnire fervid zeal, the cause of those who conducted the prosecution against this erring doctor. Gavin Hamilton and all persons of his stamp, were of course on the side of Macgill ; .Vuld, and the .Mauchlinc elders, were his enemies. Mr. Robert Aiken, a writer in Ayr, a nuui of remarkable talents, particularly in public speaking, had the principal niamigement of ilacgill's cause before the presbytery, and, 1 believe, also before the synod. He was an intimate friend of Hamilton, and through him had about this time formed an acquaintance, which soon ripened into a warm friendship, with Hums. ]5urns, therefore, was from the beginning a zealous, as in the end he was per- haps the most effective, partisan of the side on which Aiken had staked so much of his reputation. Macgill, Dalrymple, and their brethren, suspectem any lovely Llicy arc liatc- Ihem because iincntH whii'li (lenoniinated li the soul of who lias not irinfjH, recoils ny forltiddinjj; ' tiie Supreme uce insanity, UuriiK. as expressing!: es of a similar liicli even I lie iti-L'alvinistic the Ayrshire performances ;cn, not only misters of re- e, which may npreliend the 111? in Hurns's rtiien he lirst r is it fair to mif? and reek- consideration worst ott'enccs 1 and abetted re about their Ihority, were ;ral education rt unity of ap- lestion. Had mi his clerical IS was tcn- a layman who ;ious subjects Ki'cat genius oaclios to the haractcr. hus wrote the htertyre, in idit talents .'(1 on you, be Willie \v," i nil til! ill ('riiiiRk's y fiillinu, wliiii ;lijs Ktory si'ciiis if I'.iirnss u«ii lilfii'iii); iiKiiiey lir cliurcli-diinr heuceforlh employed to the nobh jiurposc of supporting the cause of truth and virtue. An imagination so varied and forcible as yours may do this in many different modes; nor is it necessary to be always serious, which you have been to good purjiose ; good morals may be recommended in a comedy, or even in a song, (ireat allowances are due to the heat and inexperience of youth; — and few poets can JKiast, lijvc Thomson, of never having written a line, which, dyin.r, they would wish to blot. Ill particular, I wish you to keep clear of the thorny walks of satire, which makes a man an hundred cneniics for one friend, and is doubly dangerous Avhen one is sujiposed to extend the slips and weaknesses of individuals to their sect or party. About modes of faitii, serious and excellent men have always differed ; and there are certain curious questions, which may aHbrd scope to men of metaphysical heads, but seldom mend the heart or temper. Wiiilst these points are beyond human ken, it is sullicicnt that all our sects concur in their views of morals. Vou will forgive me for these hints." Few such hints, it is likely, ever reached his car* in the days when tiiey might have been most useful — days of which the jirincipal lionours and distinctions are thus alluded by himself; — I've liecn at ilnuilliiiieiit 'o this gentle- man's elocutionary talents. "I never knew there was any merit in my poem.s," said he, "until Mr. Aiken rettil them into repute." Encouraged by the "roar of applause" which greeted these pieces, thus orally pro- mulgated and recommended, he produced in succession various satires, wherein the same set of persons were lashed; as, the "Ordina- tion;" the "Kirk's Alarm," &c. &c. ; and last, and best undoubtedly, the "Holy Fair,"' in which, unlike the others that have been mentioned, satire keeps its own place, and is sub.servient to the poetry of Burns. This was, indeed, an extraordinary performance ; no partisan of any sect could whisper that j malice had formed its principal inspiration, ' or that its chief attraction lay in the boldness j with which individuals, entitled and accus- tomed to respect, were held up to ridicule; it was acknowledged, aniidst the sternest mutter- ings of wrath, that national manners were once more in the hands of a national poet; and hardly denied by those who shook their heads the most gravely over the indiscretions of particular pa.ssages, or even by those who justly regretted a too prevailing tone of levity in the treatment of a subject essentially solemn, that the AIu.se of "Christ's Kirk on the Green" had awakened, after the slumber of ages, witii 1 all the vigour of her regal youth about her, in I "the auld clay biggin'" of Alo.ssgiel. The' " Holy Fair" however, created admiration, not surprise, among the circle of domestic friends I who had been admitted to watch the steps of his progress in an art, of which, beyond that ! cin-lo, little or nothing was heard until the ' Nouthful poet produced at length a satirical I masterpiece. It is not po.ssible to reconcile i the statements of Gilbert and others, as to some of the minutiaj of the chronological history of Hurns's previous performances ; but there can be no doubt, that although from choice or accident his first provincial fame was that of a satirist, he had, .some time before any of his philippics on the Auld Light di- vines made their appearance, exhibited to those ivho enjoyed his personal conlideiicc, a range of imaginative power hardly inferior to whai, the "iloly Fair " it.self displays; and, ' I'l'lio " Iloly Kair" was not " the last" of tlie polem- ical satires ; it was written in August, 178.''), the "Ordi- nation " in Fehruarv 178(5, and the "Kirk's Alarm" in August, 178 t.l 40 LIFE OF ROBERT BURNS. nt, least, such a rapidly improving slcill in : It was, I think, in summer, 1781,- wlicn, in l>oc..ci.l language and vxrsiHcution, as must the interval of harder labour, he and 1 were have prepared them for wimcssing, ivithout i weeding in the gai len (kail-yard ), tiuit lie wonder, even the most pcifect specimens of | repeated to me the prineipi'l purt of this |,ijj jjrt. epistle (to Davie). I believe tiie first idea Gilbert says, "that among the mrlid of of IJolicrt's beeomiii%' an autiior was started on his Items'' was the "Epistle to Duvic,"and this oceasion. I was much ])lcasod with the ilr. Walker believes that this wa.j written epistle, and said to him 1 was of oi.injon it very soon after the death of William IJurncs. | would bear bein,^■ |)riiited, and that it wouid This piece is in the very intricate and dilU- \ be well received l.v jieople of taste; tliat 1 cult measure of the "Cherry and the Slac;"' I thought it at least ,M,(ia!, if not superior, to and, on the whole, liic poet moves with ease i m..iiy of Allan Itainsiy's epistles; and that and grace in his very unnecessary trammels; ' the merit of tiiese, and much other Scotch but yo.mg pccti;,arc careless lieforehand of poetry, seemed to consist principally in the difficulties which would startle the experi- ki!'\ik of the expression — but hero, tliere was enced ; and great poets may overcome any i a strain of interesting sentiment, and the Scot- diflicultics if they (ince grapple with them; so i ticismof the lanuuage scarcely seemed allected, that I should rather gror.'ul my distrust of j but api>cared lobe the natural language of the (iilbert's statement, if it must be literally \ poet; tiiat, besides, there was certainly some taken, on the celebration of "Jean" with ! novelty in a [loet pointing out the consolations which the epistle terminates: and after all, i that were in store for him when he should go she is celebrated in the conchuling stanzas, ' a-begning. I'obcrt seemed very well pleased which may have been added some time after with my criticism, and we talked of sendin'/ the first draught. The gloomy circumstances , it to some magazine, but as tliis plan allbrded of the poet's personal condition, as described i no opportunity of knowing how it would lake, in this piece, were common, it cannot be | the idea was (Irojtped. doubted, to all the years of his youthful his- i "It was, I think, in the winter following, as tory; so that no particular date is to be | we were going togcthrr with oarts fV)r coal lo founded upon these; and if this was tlic first, ' the famil> (and I co.ild ye! point out the ])ar- certainly it was not the last occasion, on ticular spot), that th author first repeated to which 13urns exercised his fancy in the col- me tiie '.Vddress to the Deil.' 'I'lie ci.iioiis idea of such an a(!.lre-s wr.s sugL'csted to liin., bj running over in his inii.d the many ludi- crous accounts and representations we have, from variov.s quarters, of this lugust personage. 'Death and Doctor Jlornliook.' though not published in the Kilmarnock etiition, was pro- ouring of the very worst issue that could at- tend i* life of unsuccessful toil. The last o't, the warst ot Is only just to licg— I5ut Gilbert's recollections, liowever on trivial ]>oints iniiccurate, will always be more inter- duced early in the year ITS"). The sehool- esting tlian anything that could bo put in master of Tarboltoii p.uish, to eke up the their place. scanty subMstence allowe' to that useful class " Robert, "say.s he, "ofien composed without of men, had set up a shop of grot ery goods, any regular plan. V.'hen ar.ylliing made a Having accidentally fallen in v, itli some med- strong impression on liis mind, so as to rouse ical iiooks, and become most hobby-ho-sically it to poetic oxertion, he would give way to the attached to the study of medicine, he had impulse, am. embody the thought in rhyme. ! added ihe sale of a few medicines to his l^Mlo If he hit o;l two or three stanzas ti please him, i ■> jj ,,,,^ ,,„^,„ .,,,.,,.^,,^, „„,„,i,„„,,, ,|,,,, siii,nTeniov. .1 he wouKt then think of proper 'ntroduetory, \ froiuTaiboltDii tolivineiii iTf-l; wliieli eireainstame connecting, and concluding stanzas ; hence the i '"-''^'"'' '" •"""•''"i il'" account in the ti xt. jThe iioem !.,;/■ 1,^ «f o »,.^„.« ,.., . „n . c » 1 • hears lite . I. uiui'.'v. ITh,'), but tlie coneludiiiK staiiz:is, miUi le ot a poem was often first produced, i ,, , • x ^, ,. ' ; as the pireMMiow ai)]iear», I'eferiin^ to tlie jKi. t Hi'on- I suiniiii; pas.siou for .lean, nuist have lieeii a'h.Jeil after • lThatisthc"Clicrr.vamltIie.'!Ioe,"a.Scottislipocm that date, iis his niteicoinse witli he' v.ould seem by Alexaiidei- Montsu"iery, pubUshcd in 159.').) , not to liave lieijuii till .Viiiil of iliat year.l LIFE OF ROBERT BURNS. 41 84,- when, In e unci I were ml ), tliat lie purt of tills the first idcii van started on sed nilh the i)f "iiinion it I hilt it would tiisle; that 1 t sui)erior, to :'s; and that other Scotch ijially in the L'rc, there was and tlie Seot- nied aflci^ted, iiiguaj,'e of the eriainly some e conNolations lie should go ,' well pleased ed of sendin'j: ■• jilan afr()r(Ic* the iucity hour in wiiicii the dominie of Tarboiton pro- voiied tlie eaHtife'ation of IJohert Hums. in Tliliik yi', that «iali ns )• the Bixtecnth day, as 1 did lie alone, , ' , ; ,, , \\ itlinianva siKhand sol) did say— All! man Isniade the matter, was iierliaps as ,u;ood as could he toimian! had, for love or money, amonir the wise women who were the oidy rivals for his jiractico. The " I had an old urand-iiiu-le, " .says the poet, poem which drove him from .\yr.shire was not, in one of his letters to .Mrs. Dunlop, "with we may believe, either expected or desiuncd whom my mother lived in her ,i;irlisli years; to produce any such serious cfFeet. I'oor the i^ood old man, for such he was, w;is blind Hornliookand the poet were old ac(iuaintances, lonu' ere he died; uiul Ago of ciil, anil llfty- lar as writilixs Ik' iiliiiic, ! mull isiimitc iiys the poet, iiilop, "witli liflisli years; IS, was blind me his Iii^li- ui ery, wiiilo c old song of " is, perhiips, ose exclusion liiiL's possible injurious, if cliaraetcr, of lie lines, ainl to me, that ire in estima- he absence of mle jierfufm- i,!;hts he eer- renuiined but cll'ort, is too tion is easy, lierc is more •, than in any eonsideratile ppearanee of le fountain of ■1 the ear, and is delightful vliieh present ler an incvit- loyant energy rcssure. The 10 sbt'li affcet ak's Select Scot- to treat as unreal? Yet they shrink to small dimcnHJons In the presence of a spirit thuH ex- alted at once, and softened, l»y the pieties of virvlu love, filial reverence, and domestic devotion. That he who thus enthusiastically appre- hended, and thus exipiisitely painted, the art- less beauty and solemnity of the feelings and thoughts that ennoble the life of the Scottish peasant, could witness observances in which the very highest of these redeeming influences are most powerfully and ,u;racefully displayed, and yet describe them in a vein of unmixed merriment — that the same man should have jirodueed the "Cottar's Saturday Night" and t'.c "Holy Fair" about the same time — will ever eontinut; to move wonder and regret. "The annual eeleliralion of the sacrament of the [iord's Supper in the rural parishes of Scotland, has much in it," says the unfortunate Heron, "of those old I'djiisli festivals, in whicli superstition, tratlie, and amusement, used to be strangely intermingled. Ilurns saw and seized in it one of the happiest of all sub- jcets to afford scope for the display of that strong and piercing sagacity, by wliich he could almost intuitively distinguish the reasonable fiv.m the absurd, and the becoming from the ridiculous; of that picturescjue power of fancy which enables him to represent scenes, and per- sons, and groups, and looks, and attitudes, and gestures, in a manner almost as lively and im- pressive, even in words, as if all the artifices and energies of the pencil had been employed; of that knowleilge which he had necessarily accpiired of the niiinners, passions, and preju- dices of the rusti^.s anumd him; of whatever was ridiculous, no less than whatever was affectingly beautiful in rural life."" This is very good so far as it goes; Imt who ever dis- puted the ex(inisife graphic truth, so far as it noes, of the poem to which the critic refers? The (luestion remains as it stood; is there then nothing besides a strange mixture of ; superstition, traffic, and amusement, in the i scene which such an annual celebration in a [ ' ireron's Meiiwirs of Burns (Edinfmrgh, 171*7), p. I 14. [Koliert Huvoii, a very prolific inisccll'uieous I writer (liorn 17G4, died 1807), wrote one of tlie earliest ! memoirs of Burns's life, pulilislied in 1797. He was j a man of decided talent if n.)t nenius, Init his life was marred by his own unsteadiness and eccentricity.] | rural parish of Scotland presents? Does nothing of what is "affectingly beautiful in rural life" make ii part in the original which was before the poet's eyes? Were "Sujiersti- tlon," "Hypocrisy," and "Fun," the only influences which he might justly have imper- sonated? it would lie hard, I think, to speak so even of the old Popish festivals to which Mr. Heron alludes; it woultl be hard, surely, to say it of any festival in which, mingled as they may be with sanctimonious pretenders, ami surrounded with giddy groups of onlookers, a mighty multitude of devout men are assem- bled for the worship of tied, beneath the open heaven, and above the tombs of their fathers.- Let us beware, however, of pushing our censure of a young poet, mad with the inspir- ation of the moment, from whatever source derived, too far. It can hardly be doubted that the author of the "Cottar's Saturday Night" had felt, in his time, all that a:iy man can feel in the contemplation of the most sublime of the religious observances of his country; and as little, that had he taken up the sulijeet of this rural sacrament in a solemn mood he might have produced a piece as gravely beautiful, as his "Holy Fair" is quaint, graphic, and picturesque. A scene of family worship, on the other hand, I can easily imagine to have come from his hand as pregnant with the ludicrous as that "Holy Fair " itself The family prayers of the Satur- day's night, and the rural celebration of the eucharist, are jiarts of the same .system — the .system which has made the people of Scotland what they are— and what, it is to be hoped, they will continue to be. And when men ask of themselves what this great national i)oet really thought of a system in which minds immeasuraidy inferior to his can see so much to venerate, it is sarcly just that they should pay more attention to what he has delivered under the gravest sanction. In noble natures, we may be sure, the source of teai-s lies nearer the heart than that of smiles. Mr. Hamilton Paul does not desert his post on occasion of the "Holy Fair;" he defends - [It may Iicre be remarlied tliat, as will l)e under- stood from tlie notes to the poem. Burns in the "Holy Fair" deals entirely with tlie externals of the celelira- tion,— the actual dispensation of the sacrament in the church he does not venture to touch on.] 44 LIFK OF KOBEUT BUKNS. I that imToaMiimnlullvuM" Holy Willie;" ami, ihcrolncH.i' " Miiry Morison," " Ikhin.i yon indeed, cxprcHHiy apphuuU HuniK for liiivinff ' IiHIh whore Slinrimr Howm," "On C'oHMnoek endcuvourcil to explode "abunes dlMcounten- ' banks there lives « Iiimh," belong lo thin period," an.'cd by tlic (ieneral AHScmbly." The (ien- and there are three or lour inspired by Mury era! Assembly would no doubt say, both of the ' Campbell -the object of by far the deepest poet and the eommpnialor, iioii tall ttiuillo. jiassion that Hums ever knew, and whieh be "Hallowe'en," a diseriptivc jmem, jjerhaps has aeeordinKly immortalized in tiie noblest of oven more ex(iuisitely wrouyht than the elegiaes. "Holy Fair," and eoiitainint; nothini,' that j In 'ntrodueing to Mr. Thomson's notice the Honj, - Will ,vc>ii K<> I" tlic IikIIch, lay Mary, And U'livr aniil Mcitia m HliiiruV— Will yiw nil t" till' liidliH, uiy Mary, Across the Atlantic 8 mar'.' Vc luuiks, ami hracs, ami HlrcaiiiH arnuiiil The catttic o Miiiit^icaiieiic ; (iivci] lie yoMr woihIs, anil fair jiair lldwcrs, VipiU' waters iicvi r druinlic; lurliiil There Ninnnier llrsi iinfaulil lar mljcs, And there the laii;;eht tairy, K(ir theie I tmik the last faicwi II ()' my sweet llinhlanil Maiv, eould oll'end the fecliiiKs of anybody, was produced about the same period. Hurns'H art had now reached its climax; but it is time that we slioid [There is no autliority for saying that Burns ever contemplated trying his fortunes in the West Indies prior to 1780. Though he speaks of " thinking of going to the West Indies in my very eai'ly years,' he refers to his 28th year, 178B. See helow.l to impose awe. The lovers stood on each side » Letter to Thomson, 20th Oct. 1792. s [These songs certainly belong to the period before he took up liis residence at ilossgicl.] lilKK OF K()lii:UT liUllNS. 45 < iiutiee the period before of II Hiniill piirlini; lirook — they liiveil tlieir liaiiilK i» t^l'*^ limpid Htreiktii- uml, iioliliiiK a liil)lo iietwccii tlieiii, pruiiniiiiceil tlieir vowh to lie ruitiiriil to eiifii other. They purled - never to iiiei't iigiiin." It in i)r()i)er lo add, that Mr. I'roiiieiv's Mtory, which even Allan C'unnin.i,dmni "as ilispo.sed to receive with sii.^pieioii, has lieen fontirnied very ntronKly liy (lie aiTideiital di.scovery ot' a Hihle, pre- .seiiled l)y I5urn.t to "Mary ('anipl)ell," whieii was tound in the iio.sses.sjon nl' her hi.sier at Anlro.s.san. I'pon liie i)oard.s of tiic first volume is in.seril)ed, in liurns'.s hand writ iuu;, — " .\iiil yc shall not swear Ity my name falsely, 1 am tilt' Lord. I.evit, ehap. .\i.\. v. I'J." On the second volume, — ^'Thoii Hlmlt not Inr- .swoar thyself, hut shalt perform unto the Lord thine oaths.— St. Matth. eha)!. v. :W." Ami, nil a lilank leaf of either — " liobert Hums, Moss^iol," with his iinimii-iiiiirk. How lasting; was the poct'n reniendn'anee of this pure love, and its trairie termination, will he seen hereafter. Ili;:hland .Mary, however, seems lo have died hoforo her lover had made any more serious attempts in poetry.' In the Ki)istle to Mr. Sillar, the very earliest, aeeording to (iilliert, of these c.s.says, the poet eelehratcs "his Davie and his Jean." This was .lean .\rmour, the daui^hter of a respeciahle man, a mason in the villau:e of Maiichline, where she was at the time the reiifniii!; toast,- and who afterwards heeamc the wife of our jioet. There are nund)erless allusions to her nuiiden eharms in the best picees which he ])roduecd at Mossifiel. The time is not yet come, in which all the details of this .story can he e.vpct d Jean Armour found herself "as ladieif w'-li to he that love their Inn/s." And how slit^htly such a circumstance miu;ht afl'ect the character and reputation of a young woman in her sphere of ' ITIic story of lli^jhland XInry, tlic true facts re- caidiiiK wliicli were unlinowu to Lockhart, i.s niveu ill Appendix. I 2 III .Maiicliliiic tlicic dwcll.s six proper yoiiiij; liclles, 'i'lu! iniilo o' tile jiliu c and its nciKlilioiiiliood a'; 'I'luii- carriage and dicss, a Btraii(jer would guess, 111 Lon'oii or I'aiis they'd gotten it a : J/i.v.t Miller is fine, Misn Marklatid'a divine, Mins Sinilli she has wit, and Misx ISetlyh hraw; Tlierc's beauty and fortune to get wi' J/i'sg Murtun, Hut Armovr'n the jewel for nic o' them a'. rural life ut tliut period, every Hcotehman will understand — to any hutu iSeotchnmn, it nuKht, perhaps, he ditlieult to explain. The nmnly readiness with which the young rustics com- nnuily come forward to avert, liy nuirriage, the worst eonseciuenees of sueh iiidi.seretions, ean- nol he denied ; imr, perhajis, is there any class of society, in any country, in which imitri- tiioiiitil infidelity is le.ss known than among the female jieasantry of Scotland. ISurns's Worldly eircumsianees were in a most miserable state when he was inlormcd of Miss Armour'H eondition ; and the first mi- nouncement of it stau'gered him like a blow. lie saw notliing for it but to fly the country at onen; and, in a note to JamcM Smith of Manchline, the confidant of liin amour, ho thus wrote: — "Against two things I iini fixed as fate — stayiii',' at homo, and owning her conjugally. The first, by Heaven. I will m)t do 1 —the last, by hell, I will never do! — A good (iod bless you, and make you iiappy, up to the warmest weeping wish of parting friend- ship. ... If you see .lean, tell her 1 will meet her; so help me, Ood, in my hour of need." Tlic lover.s met accordingly ; and tlic result of the meeting was what was to be anticijiated from the temlerness and the manliness of Hnrns'K feelings. ,\11 dread of jiersonal incon- venience yielded at once to the tears of the worn .11 he loved, and ere they parted he gave into her keeping a written acknowledgment of marriage, which, when produced by a person in .Miss Armour's condition, is, according to the Scots law, to be accepted a.s legal evidence of an innjiiliir marriage having really taken place ; it being of course understood that the marriage was to be formally avowed as soon as the consequences of their imprudence could no longer be concealed from her family. The disclosure wa,s deferred to the last moment, and it was received by the father of Miss Armour with eipial .surprise and anger. Hums, confessing himself to be unequal to the maintenance of a family, ju-ojiosed to go im- mediately lo Jamaica, where lie hoped to find belter fortunes, lie offered, if it were re- jected, to abandon his farm, wliicli was ere now a hopeless concern, and earn bread at least for his wife and children as a daily labourer at home; but nothing could appease the indigna- 46 LIFE OF ROBERT BURNS. tion of Armour, who, Professor Walker hints, had entertained ijreviously a very bad opinion of Burns'.s wliole cliaracter. By wliat argii- meutu he prevailed on hin daughter to take so strange and so painful a step we know not; but the fact is certain, that, at his entreaty, she destroyed the document, which must have been to her the most precioKS of her possessions —the only evidence of her marriage.' It waf. under such extraordinary circum- stances that ^liss Armour became the mother of twins. ■•^ 1 [Another statement regavding the ilestruction of tlie ilocument is, that Jean's fatlier sniitched it from Iier in a sudden fit of anger, tlivew it on tlio llie, and commanded her to tliinlf lierscif no longer tlie wife of liurns. It may he reinarlved tliat tlio destruction of tlie jiaper only destroyed evidence; i' could not annul the marriage.] - [After the destruction of the iniport.'rni document Miss Armour wa.» sent off to Paisley, evidently with the purpose of preventing ennunuidcation hetween her and her poet lover. On 9tli July Hums writes to his friend Richmond in Edinburgh that he had called on Jean after her rctu.n, Dud received a somewhat chilling reception. " However, ' he adds, "the priest, I am informed, will give me a certificate as a single man if I coiiply with the rules of the church, which for that vei. reason I intend to do. I am going to I)ut on sackelotli and ashes this day. I am indulged so far as to appear in my own scat." Delintiuents like Burns had to do icnauce on three several Sundays. I!nrns begaii his course of pnl)lic reper.t- anee on nth July, and should have flnishcl on the '23d. For some reason or otiier two Sundays were ondtted, and Buri.s made his last ai)])earance along with Jean and some other offenders on 0th August, as Hhown by the following extract from the session records :—" 17SG, August Cth.— Pobcrt Burns, John Smith, Mary Lindsay. Jean Armour, and Angus Auld ap jcared before the congregation professing their rej ent.uice f(jr the sin of fornicivion, and they, having each ainvared two sevei al Sa'il; atlis foi'nierly , were this day relinked and absohec' from the scandal." It appears that the Rev. Mr. Auld, bj wli":n these guilty pai ties were rel)uked, was accustomed to write down the reb\!k s he administered to offenders in a small voliune, which is still in existence, and which shows him to have been a faithful nunister, and, by no means, p severe or unkindly nmn. The relnike delivered to Burns and Ids fellow-sinners as noted down in this crnous vobi.jie is a? follows :—" Vou appear there to be rebuked, ..iid, at the same lime, making profession of repentance fcr the sin of forni- cation. The fre(iuonci' of this sin is just matter of lamentation among f'hrisiians, and affords just gi. ind of deep humiliation to the guiltv persons themselvei.. We call jou to reflect «eriousl> in contrition of heart on all the instances o' r sin aiul guilt, on their numbers, high aggravntl.m, and unhappy conse- quence; and say, having dune foolishly, we'll do so IJurns's Icve and pride, the two most power- ful feelings of his mind, had been equally wounded. His anger and grief together drove him, according to every account, to the verge of absolute insanity; and some of his letters on this occasion, both published and unpub- lished, have certainly all the appearance of having been written in as deep a concentration of despair as ever preceded the most awful of human calamities. His first thought had been, as we have seen, to fly at once from the scene of '.lis disgrace and mi.scry; and this course .seemed now to be absolutely necessary. He wa» summoned to fnid security for the miiin- tenance of the children whom he was pre- vented from legitimating, and such was his poverty that he could not satisfy the parish oflicers. I suppose security for some four or five pounds a year was the utmost that could have been demanded from a person of his rank ; but tiie man who had in his desk the innviortal poems to which we have been refer- ring above, either disdained to ask, or tried ■n vain to find, pecuniary assistance in his hour of need ; uiul the only alternative that presemed itself to his view was .\merica or a jail. Who can ever learn without grief and itulig- iiatioii, that it was the victim of kiicIi miseries wlio, at this moment, louid pour out such a strain as the " Lament?" O thou pale oib, that .siLnt .shines, While carc-untroiibled mortals .slcejil Thou seest a wretch that iiil.v pines. And wanders here to wail and wee]i! W ith woe I nightly vigils keeji. Beneath thy wan uiiwarming beam ; ^nd inoiirn, in lamentation deep, How li,fc and loce are all a dream. No idly-feigned poetic plaints, My sad lovelorn 'anieiitings claim ; No shep'.ienl's pipe— Arcadian strains; No fabled tortures, (jnaii.'. and tame. The idighted faith; the mutual flame; ' The oft attested I'ow'is above ; The jireiiii'.s'ffi Father n tcntler jiaiin' ; These were the pledges of my love ! no more. Beware of returning again to your sin, as some of )ou have done, like flic dog to his vomit, or v:ke the sow that is washeil, to her wallowing In tlie ir.irc." By the law of Scotland a subsetiuent marriage between t.ie father and mother legitimates children born out of wedlock; hence it is, probably, that antenuptial incontinence is looked upon rather too leniently among the lower classes.] LIFE OF ROBERT BURNS. 47 CHAPTER IV. ;.[anmica enKageiiiL'iit:— resolution t<> imblisli his pooiiis:— piililicatiou cif first edition:— preparations for sai^iiit::-B''"win{; fame :— Dugald Stewiut, Dr. lilair, Mrs. Uiinlop:— " Lass of lialloeliniylo":— lioi)es of an excise appointment :— visit to Ur. l-aiu'ie:— Ur. Blaeldoeli's letter :—linrna resolves to visit Edinljurgli.] IIu 811W inisfortunu's caiiUl tmr'-mist IiiiUK iiuistLTiti^ up 11 bitter 1ila»t; A lii^M briik his liciirt at last, III may kIiu bul So, took a bertli afuru tlie mast . .famaica was now liis mark; auil after some little time and trouble, the situation of assis- tant-overseer on tlie estate of a Dr. Douglas in that colony, was procured for him by one of his friends in the town of Irvine. Money to pay for his passage, however, he had not ; and it at last occurred to him, that the few pounds recpiisitc for this purpose migiit be raised by the publication of some of the finest poems that ever delightcil mankind. His landlord (iavin Hamilton, Mr. Aiken, anert .Muir of Kil- nnu'iioek, 72 copies; .Tames Smith of Mauchline, 41 copies; Gavin Hamilton, 40 copies; fiilbert Burns, 70 copies; John Kennedy, Dumfries House, 20 copies; 48 LIFE OF KOBEET BUENS. vanity was highly gratified by the reception I met with from the public; and besides, I pocketed, all expenses deducted, nearly twenty pounds. This sum came very seasonably, as I was thinking of indenting myself, for want of money to procure my passage. As soon as I was master of nine guineas, the price of wafting me to the torrid zone, I took a steer- age passage in the first ship that was to sail from the Clyde ; for Hungry ruin had mo in the wind. I had been for some days skulking from covert to covert, under all the terroi-s of a jail ; as some ill-advised peoi)lo had uncoupled the merciless pack of the law at my heels. I had taken the last fiircwell of my few friends; my chest was on the Avay to Greenock; 1 had composed the last song I should ever measure in Caledonia, " The gloomy night is gathering fast," when a letter from Dr. IJlacklock to a friend of mine, overthrew all my schemes, by opening new prospects to my poetic ambition." To the above rapid narrative of the poet, we may annex a few details, gathered from his various biographers and from his own letters. While his sheets were in the press (June- July, 1786) itappears that his friends, Hamilton and Aiken, revolved various schemes for pro- curing him the means of remaining in Scotland; and having .studied some of the practical branches of mathematics, as we have seen, and in particular f/au;iui;i, it occurred to himself that a situation in the excise might be better suited to him than any other he was at all likely to obtain by the intervention of such jiatrons as he possessed. He appears to have lingered longer after the publication of the poems than one might suppose from his own narrative, in the hope that these gentlemen might at length succeed .lolin Lofian, of Laijiht, 20 copies; Mr. H'Whiiinic, Writer, Ayr, 20 copies; David Sillar, Irvine, liiojiies; Willi.im Xiveii, Maybole, 7 copies; Walter Morton, Cumnock, (i copies; Jolni Neilson, Kirlioswalil, n copies. Wilson himself Uisposed of 70 copies, while copies vere supplied to William Parker, Thomas Samson, Ralpli Sellars, and John Kankine. On AuRUSt 28, tmd copies had been disposed of, and there then remained on hand oidy 13 copies. The expense of printing and puldishiiiK the whole edition amounted to £35, 17«., a sum tliat woidd little ]nore than purchase a single copy now, they have become so rare.) in their efforts in his behalf. The poems were received with favour, even with rapture, in Ayrshire, and ere long over the adjoining counties. "Old and young," thus speaks Robert Heron, "high and low, grave and gay, learned or ignorant, were alike delighted, agitated, transported. I was at that time resident in Galloway, contiguous to Ayrshire, and I can well remember how even plouahboys and maid-servants would have gladly bestowed the wages they earned the most hardly, and. which they wanted to j)urchase necessary clothing, if they might but procure the works of Hums." The poet soon found that his pcr.-ion also had become an object of general curiosity, and that a lively interest in his personal fortunes was excited among some of the gentry of the district, when the details of his story reached them, as it was pretty sure to do, along with his modest and manly pre- face.' Among others, the celebrated I'rofessor ' I'nface to the First Kdition. "The following trilles are not Mie production of the poet, who, with all the advantages of learneil art, and, ))erhaps, amid the elegancies and idleness of ui)i)er life, looks down for a rural theme, with an eye to 'I'heoeritus or Virgil. To tlie author of this, these, and otlier celebrated names their countiymen are, at least in tlieir original language, a /(lUiiUiiii kIiiU up, (iiiil a bonk nfitlcd. Vnaeqnainted with tile necessary re(|ni.sites for conuneneing jioet by rule, he sings the sentiments and manners he felt and saw in himself and rustic compeers around him, in his and tlieir native language, Tliongh a rhymer from his earliest years, at least from the earliest im])ulse of tlie softer passions, it was not till very lately that the apjdause, jierhaps the partiality, of friendsliip, wakened his vanity so far as to nnike him think any thing of his worth showing; and none of tlie following works were composed wit! . view to the press. Tc> amuse himself with the lit;'e cre.itiona of his own fancy, amid the toil and fa'iguesof a laborious life; to tran,scribe the various feelings, the loves, the griefs, tlie hopes, tlie fears in his own breast; to find some kind of counterpoise to the struggles of a world, always an alien scene, a ta.sk uneonth to the jioetieal mind,— these were his motives for courting the Muses, and in these he found jioetry to be its own reward. "Now tliat he ajipears in the pnlilic character of an author, he does it with feai' and trembling. So dear is fame to the rhyming tiibe, tliat even he, an oliscure, nameless bard, slirinks aghiUit at the tliought of being branded as an impertinent bloekhead, oli- trudiug his nonsense on the world; and, because he can make a shift to jingle a few doggirel .Scotch rhymes together, looking ujion himself as a poet of no small conseciuence, forsooth ! " It is an obseivatiou ol that celebrated i)oet Sbeu- LIFE OF EGBERT BURNS. 49 poems were rapture, in e adjoining Lima speaks ivc and gay, ) delighted, t that time to Ayrsliire, 1 pIoui;lil)oy.s ll.y bestowed liardly, and e necessary re the works lid that his of general ;rust in his ong some of lie details of pretty sure manly pre- ed I'rofessor VI. produttion of OS of U'anifd I and idlL'iit'8H R-iiic, with ail lutlior of tliiti, r couiitijiiitn :t', a fiixintiiin iitfd with the )ot hy rule, he lit and saw in ini, in his and niLT from his ■St iniimlsL' of ly hitcly that of fricnd^liil), iini think any i tlic foUiiwinK liu press. 'I'd IS of his own loiioiis life; to ts, tlie niiefs, ; to And sonic i of a woilil, o the poetical eourtiiiK the to be its own i; character of reiiihliiiK. So it even he, an [it the thouKht ilockliciid, oh- id, because he Ptjerel Scotch f as a poet of cd poet SheU" Dugald Stewart of Edinburgh and liis accom- plished lady, then resident at their beautiful seat of Catrine, began to notice him with much polite and friendly attention. Dr. Hugh Hlair, who then iield an eminent place in the literary society of Scotland, happened to be paying .Mr. Stewart a visit, and on reading the " Holy i''air,"atonce pronounced it the "work of a very fine genius;" and Mrs. Stewart, herself a poetess, flattered him perhaps siill more higlily Iiy her warm commendations. i Hut, above all, his little volume happened to attract the notice of Mrs. Dunlop of JJunlop,- a laily of high birlh and amjile fortune, en- thusiastically attached to her country, and interested in whatever appeared to concern the honour of Scotland. This excellent woman, while slowly recovering from the languor of an illness, laid her hands accidentally on the stone, whose divine elegies do honour to our language, our nation, and our species, that 'lliiinilily has de- pressed many a genius to a hermit, but never iiitscd one to fame!' If any critic catches at tlie word ijeiiiitu the author tells him, once for all, that he certainly looks iiiion himself as possessed of some jioetie abilities, otherwise his publishing in the manlier he has done, would be a maiKeuvre lielow tlie worst character, which, be hopes, his wor.st enemy will ever give him. lint to the genius of a Itamsay, or the glorious daw iiiiigs of the ])o(U-, iiiifor- liniate Kergussoii, he, with c for gratifying liiiii, if lie deserves it, in tliat dearest wish of every poetic bosom - to he distinguished. Jle licgs his readers, particularly the leariK'd ami tlie jiolite, who may boiiuur him with a perusal, tliat tliey will make every allowance for education and eircumstames of Ife; but if, after a fair, candid, and impaitlal eiitieism, he shall stand convicted of iliiluess and nonsense, let him be dune by as be woulil in that case do by others— let him be eoinleiiiiicd, without mercy, to contempt and oblivion.' ' I'l'liiTo is some confusion here; Helen llannatine, lliigald Stewart's first wife, was al that time snll'ering frMiu ail illness, of which she died the following year. Helen l)',\rcy Cranstoun, 'the jioctcss," did not become Mis. Stewart till IVdIl.l '-' This lady was the daughter of Sir Thomas Wallace, Baronet of (,'raigie, supposed to represent the family of which the great hero of Scotland was a cadet. j new production of the provincial press, and opened the volume at the "Cottar's Saturday Night." "She read it over," says Gilbert, , "with the greatest pleasure and surprise; the poet's description of the simple cottagers operated on her mind like the charm of a powerful e.xorcist, repelling the demon cDiuii, and restoring her to lier wonted imvard har- mony and satisfaction. " iMr.s. Dunlop instantly sent an express to Mossgiel, distant sixteen miles from her residence, v.'ith a very kind letter to IJurns, reciuesting him to supply her, if he could, with half-a-dozen copies of the book, and to call at Diiiilo]) as soon as he could fiod it convenient. IJurns was from home, but he acknowledged the favour conferred on him in an interesting letter, si ill extant; and shortly afterwards commenced a personal ac- quaintance with one that never after.vards ceased to befriend him to the utmost of her power. 11 is letters to Mrs. Dunlop form a very large proportion of all his sub.sequent correspondence, and, addressed as they were to a person whose sex, age, rank, and benevol- ence inspired at once profound respect and a graceful confidence, will ever remain the most pleasing of all the materials of our poo 's biography. At the residences of these new acciuaiutancc, Hums was introduced into society of a class which he had not before approaclied ; and of the manner in which he stood tlie trial, Air. I Stewart thus writes to Dr. Currie : j " His nianncrs w^crc then, as they continued ever afterwards, simple, manly, and indepen- dent ; strongly expressive of conscious genius ! and worth; but witliout anything that iiidi- [ cated forwardness, arrogance, or vanity. He j took his share in conver.salion, but not more than belonged to him ; and listened with ap- jiarcnt attention and deference, on subjects where his want of education deprived him of the means of information. If there had been a little more of gentleness and accommodation in Ills temper, lie would, I think, have been still more interesting; lint he had been accus- tomed to give law in the circle of liis ordinary ai'(|uaintance; and his dread of anything ap- proaching to meanness or servility, rendered I his maiinor somewhat decided and luird. Nothing, perhaps, was more remarkable among his various attainments than the fluency and so LIFE OF EGBERT BURNS. precision, and originality of his lansuage, when he spoke iii company, more particularly as he aimed at purity in his turn of expression, and avoided, more successfully than most Scotchmen, the peculiarities of Scottish phrase ■ ology. At this time, Uurns's prospects in life were so extremely gloomy, that he had seri- ously formed a plan of going out to Jamaica in a very huniDlc situation, not, however, myself alone, unfit for the struggle of life, .shrinking at every rising cloud in the chance- directed atmosphere of fortune, while all de- fenceless, I looked about in vain for a cover. It never occurred to me, at Icu"* never with the force it deserved, tliat this world is a bu.sy scene, and man a croiiture destined for a pro- gressive struggle ; and that, liowever I might pos.ses.y a warm heart, and inoflensive manner.- without lamenting that his want of patronage ■ (which last, by the by, was rather more than should force him to think of a project .so re- j 1 could well boast), still, more than these pas- pugnant to his feelings, when his ambition sive qualities, there was something to be (/-///'. aimed at no higher an object than the station When all my schoolfellows and youthful com- of an exciseman or ganger in his own country. The provincial applause of his publication, and the consequent notice of his supcnoi's, however ilattering sudi things must have been, were far from administering any essential relief to the urgent necessities of IJurns's situ- ation. Very .shortly after his first visit to Catrine, where he met with the young and amiable Basil Lord Pacr, whose condescension and kindness on the occasion he celebrates in jjccrs were striking off, with eager hope and earnest intent, on some one or other of the many paths of busy life, 1 was 'standing idle in the market-place,' or only left the chase of the butterfly from flower to flower, to linnf fancy from whim to whim. You .sec. sir, that if to knoic one's errors, were a j)robability of mcudiim them, 1 stand a fair chance ; but, ac- cording to the reverend Westminster divines, though conviction must precede conversion, it some well-known verses, we find the poet | is very far from always implying it." writing to his friend, Mr. Aiken of Ayr, in ' In the midst of all the distresses of this the following sad strain : — "I have been feel- period ofsuspcn.se, 15urns fomd time, as he ing all the various rotations and movements | tells Jlr. Aiken, for some "vag;'ries of the witliin respecting tlic excise. There are many ] jMu.se;" and one or two of these may deserve things plead strongly against it; the unccr- I to be noticed here, as throwing fight on his tainty of getting soon into busines.s, the con- personal demeanour during this hrst summer .sequences of mj' follies, which may perhajis of his fame. The poems appeared in .hiiy, make it impracticable for me to stay at home; ' and one of the first persons of superior ••ondi- and besides, 1 have for some time been pining tion((iill)ert, indeed, says ///c first) who courted under secret wretchedness, from causes which his acquaintance in consc one answer — the feelings of a father. Tliis, in the ])resent mood 1 am in, overbalances every- thing that can be laid in the scale against it." lie proceeds to say that he claims no riglit to complain. ''The world has in general been kind to me, fully up to my deserts. I was for some time past fast getting into the pining distrustful snarl of the misanthrope. 1 .saw I Kliiw freiitly, sweet Aftnn, aiiiunii; tli.v \:rw\\ Imu's, I-'l(iw srontly. Til .siiii,' tlioi- ii x'>\\)i in tliy liVMisc; My ^laiy ,s il^^ll.■^■|> liy tliy iinuiiiui iiij; .struiuii, Flow Kcntly, .swLtt Afton, distm'li nut liir (lifaiii. Mow pliMsiuit thy l)iuiks anil uri'i'U '.illcys lielow, Wliei'L' Willi in llic Wdoillamls tlic lin 'O'list'S blow - Tliiio oft, as mild t vcninn swi'i-ps ovrr tlic lea, The sweet-scented liirk shades my Mary and nie. ' 1 [Om tins occasion tlie poet sent n iiarcel of '• .sonts, fii 1 LTFE OF EGBERT BURNS. 01 gle of lifo, the chance - hile all de- for a cover, never with 1(1 is a busy 1 for a pro- rer 1 mighl ive manners ■ more than n those pas- te be (/')/". uthful coni- ir hope anil )ther of the anding idle the chase of er, to hnni see, sir, that rohability of ice ; bnt, ac- ster divines, onvcrsion, it t." >sses of tills time, as he ';rries of the may deserve light on his rst summer ed in .hiiy, [lerior i-ondi- who courted iiaving read a bca\itifni resented her ongs ; anil icli her own irni strain of s to liave all r to be used idilressod in liy inaist", strfiuii, it lll'V (llVillll. ilk'.vs liclow. ' I ruses liliiw ■ cr tlic U'li, iiry iitiil iiir. ' ncl (if ■siiii^iS, It was in the spring of the same year, tiiat he had happened, in the course of an evening ramble on the banks of the Ayr, to meet with ii vonng and lovely unmarried lady, of the family of Alexander of lialloehmyle ; and now (Sept. 1786), emboldened, we are to sui)pose, liv tiie reception his volume iuid met with, he inclosed to her some verses, wiiich he had written in commemoration of tliat passing glimpse of her beauty, and conceived in a strain of luxurious fervour, which certainly, coming from a man of Hurns's station and character, must have sounded very strangely in a delicate maiden's car. (»li. liad slic lii't'ii ii cDUiitiy maid. Ami I tilt' liiippy ciiunlry swain, TliDiin'i slii'ltered in tlie liiwest shed. Tliat evor rose on Sentia's plain I Tliroiiuli weary winters wind and rain. Witli joy, with raptnie, I would toil, And niKhtly to niy tiosom straui The bonny las.s of lialloelmiyle. Burns is said by Allan Cunningham to have resented bitterly the silence in which Mi.ss Alexander received this tribute to her charms. 1 suppo.se we may account for his ovcr-tcn- dcrnes.s to young ladies in pretty nnich the .■iame way that Professor Dugald Stewar does, in (he letter uliove ijuoted, for ''a certain want of gentleness" in his method of addressing persons of his own sex. His rustic experience among the fair could liave had no tendency to whisper tlie lesson of reserve. The autumn of tiiis eventful year was drawing to a close, and !iuri>s, ^vho had al- ready lingered three months in the hoj)e which lie now considered vain, of an excise appoint- ment, ])erceived that anolber year must be lo.^t altogether, unices he made uj) his mind, and secured his jiassa'.:e to the West Ind'js. Tlie Kilmarnock edition of his ])i)cms was, however, nearly exhausted ; and liis friends encouraged him to iiroduce anolhcr at the same place, with the view of e(|uipi)iiig him- self the better for his i oyagc. I5ut "Wee tablisiied literary repu- and it wa^ not yet loo late. Lawrie forwarded ; tation, and received from tliem attentions, of il immediately to (;avin Hamilton, who carried , which he was ever after -ratefu!.— the despon- it to IJuriiH. " It is as follows :— i dency of his spirits appears to have remained |i;(liiii)ui-(,'li, Sept. 4, 17«ackw!inl mused on wasted time, IIow I had spent my youthfu' iirime. An' done nac thiiip. But stringin' lilethers up in rhyme nonHcnsc For fools to sing. Had I to gude advice hut harkit, I ijii;j;lit liy this liae led a market, Or strutted in a liank an' darkit My ciisli account. While here, half-mad, halt-fid, half-sarkit, -Bhirteil Is a' the amount. "Dr. Ulacklock," says Burns, "belonged poems, and I had desired him to got liiv name to a set of critics, for whose npjilan.^p I had inserted among the suliscribers; but whether not f/aw/ to hopt'. His opinion that I would this was done, or not, I never coiilil Icarii. I rncct with encouragement in I'.dinburgh, fired have little intercourse with Dr. Blair, but will ^f. ^o much, that away I posted for that city, take care to have the poems communicated to without a sin'ilo acquaintance, or a single let- him by the intorvenlicui of some mutual friend. ■ tcr of introduction. The baneful star that liad It has been told me by a gentleman, to whom j^o long shed its blasting inlluenec on my I showeil the iierfonuances, and who soucrht a zenith, for once made a revolution to the copy with diligence and ardour, that tlic whole u^(jip_" I impression is already exhausted. It were, i therefore, much to be wished, for the .sake of ' TiCtter to Afoore. [By this one would naturally the voung man, that a second edition, more imnginc that Burns set out for Edinhuigli at once ou ■ n it <• II- !• 1 1 i sceiiif; Dr. Blacklnok's letter, but tlie fact is he did numerous than tlio former, could imme;{ Two of the liiogniidiers of IJurns have had \ the advantage of speaking frum personal know- j lodire of the excellent man whose interposition i was thus serviceable. '• It was a fortunato circuni.-tanee," says Walker, "that the person whom Dr. Lawrie applied to. merely because lie was the only one of his literary aeipiaint- ances with whom he ciiose to use that freedom, happened also to be the person best ([ualilied til render the application successful. J)r. liiacklock was an enthusiast in his admiration of an art which he had jiraciisetl liim>elf with apjilause. lie felt tiie claims of a poet with a paternal sympathy, and he !iad in his consti- tution a tenderness and scii>ibility that would I have engageil his beneficence for a youth in the circumstances of Hums, even though he had not been indebted to him for the delight which he received from his works; for if the young men were enumerated whom he drew from obscurity, and enabled by education to advance themselves in life, the catalogue would naturally excite surprise. . . . He was not of a disposition to discourage with feeble praise, and to shift ofl' the trouble of future patronage, by bidding him relin(]uish jioetry, ami mind his plough." ' "There was never, iierliaps," thus speaks the unfortunate Heron, whose own unmerited .-•orrows and sufl'erings would not have left so (lark a stain on the literary history of Scot- land, had the kind spirit of lilacklock been conimon among his lettered countrymen- — "There was never, iierhajis, one among all uiaiikind whom you ntiglit : •)rc truly have called rni aiKjcl ii/ioii (tirUi, than Dr. Ulaek- lock. He was guileless and innocent as a child, yet endowed wilii manly sagacity and penetration. 1 1 is heart was a jierpetual s})ring of benignity. His feelings were all tremblingly alive to the sense of the sublime, the beauti- ful, the tender, the pious, the virtuous. I'oetry was to iiim tlie ilcar solace of perpetual hlindne-is. " Such was the amiable old man, whose life Eiliiiluii'sli; lie bail furciic, an intimate friend there, .loliii llichiii'iiKi, Jill .Ayisliincniiipauion, whose loilg- injis lie filiarcil in tlie caiiilal.) 1 MoHsmi, vol. i. p. i.\. • [Soiiie facts as to ncroii arc jrivcii in note, p. ,'il. He seeiiis to liave liceii cliicllj the author of liis own iiii.sfortuiic.«.l VOL. I. Mackenzie has written, and on «hoiu .iohnson "looked with reverence."-'' The writings of niacklock are forgotten (though some of his sonus in the Mii.«inii deserve another fatcK but the memory of his virtues will not pass away until mankind shall have ceased to syiu- pathi/.e with the fortunes of lienius, and to appreciate the poetry of Burns. [All thoughts of the West Indies seem now to have been given up by Hurns. Indeed, one cannot help thinking that while talking and writing of histoming exile he had always hopes of something turning up to render it unneces- •siry. (.'ertaiii it is that a place in the excise had been occupying his thouglits for some time, and we find that the furtherance of the excise scheme was a motive perhaps eipially strong with the jiroposed jmblication of a second edition of his poems in attracting him to Kdinburgh. In a letter he received from Sir .lolin Whitefoord within a week of his arrival in the capital, occurs the following pas.sigc : — "1 have been told you wish to be made a ganger; 1 submit it to your considera- tion, whether it would not be more desirable, if a sum could be raised by sub.scription for a .second edition of your poems, to lay it out in the stocking of a small farm. 1 am persuaded it would be a line of life much more agreeable to your feelings, and in the end more satisfac- tory. " ]{y (.'urrie it was represented that Burns trudged to Edinburgh on foot ; but (iilbert expressly stated tiiat he rode on a pony borrowed from a friend, and sent back by another friend returning to .\yrshire. ] [Oilbert Burns has givc;i llie following account of friends whom Burns'seharaeterand genius procred him 'ci'ore he left Ayrshire or attracted the notice of the world : — "The farm of ^iossgiel, at the time of our coming to it (.Martinmas, 1783), was the pro- jierty of the Karl of J..oudoun, but was held in tack by ^ir. (iavin ilaniibon, writer in Mauchline. from whom we had our bargain : who had thu.s an opportunity of knowing, and showing u sincere regard for ;uv brotiier, " '•'I'liis luoniiiiy; I saw at breakfast Dr. Blacklock the liliiiil lioet, wlio does not iviiienilici' to liave seen lljlht, ami is iiiid toliy a ) isiliolar in Latin, (iiccli, ami I'lfiuh. lie wasoiiuiiially a jioor scholar himself. I lookcil on him with ivvciciice."- lAttcr to .Mr.s. 'I'liiale, Kiliiiliiiigli, Au^ii.st 17, irT;!. 54 LIFE OF EOBr.PT BURNS. ■■ I before lie knew iiat li wa>' a Iol. '' ' j poct'o estimation af him, ami tlie stnin^ out- lines of his fiiaracler, may lie collectet! from the (le"<'% 1 !iis period, be taken into con- siderat.'.'U it app -.si to me a greater effort of generosity, than ,■; .. things which appear more brilliant in my brother's future hisliuT. "Mr. liobert Muir, merchant in Kilmar- nock, was one of those friends IJubert's ]ioutry had procured him, aiul one who was dear to his heart. This gentleman had no very great fortune, or long line of dignifieil ancestry; but what Kobert .siys of ('ai)taiii .Matthew Hender- son, might be said of him with great propriety, that 'he held the patent of his honours im- mediately from Almighty (iod.' Nature had indeed marked him a gentleman in flic nio.st legible characters, lie died while yet a young man, soon after the publication of my brolher's first Edinburgh edition. Sir William Cun- ningham of liobcrlland paid a very fh'ttering attention, and showed a good deal of friendship for (he poet. Before his going to lOdiiiburgh, as well as after, liobert .■seemed peculiarly pleased with Profe.iiig state of depression. In this situation, a copy of the printed poems was laid on her table by a friend; and happening to oi)eii on the 'Cottar's Saturday Xight,' she read it over with the greatest pleasure and surprise; the poet's description of the simjile cottagers oj)erating on her mind like the charm of a powerful ex- orcist, expelling the demon < iiiiiii, and restor- ing her to her wonted inward hannoiiy and s.afisfaction. — Mrs. Dunlop sent off a person express to Mossgicl, distant fifteen or sixteen miles, with a very obliging letter to my brother, desiring him to send her half a dozen copies of his poems, if he liarollier's tVilliani C'lui- ery ll:'lterinu; ! of frieniisliiii IMinlmririi, ed ]ioeiiliarly ■rien(l.-liii>an(l ivliic-li li'oliert f.\vliero, none than that of y whieh has uitly exerted ly, of -whieli, my in-taiices. {'WI'J nut f(>r iiad lieard of iier's i)ulili>h- alUieled with liad i-educed >ini;' stale of 1 ec'iiy of tlie r table by a I the MJotlar's iver wiiii ihe ; tlie jioet's :ers ojterutinir iHiuerful ex- '/. and re.-lnr- hannony and oil' a jierson en or sixteen my brotlier, 1 dn/en copies to spare, and begging ho would do her the pleusnrc of callinir j ended only with the poet's life. The last use lit Dunlop House as soon as eonveuicnt. This lie made of his ]Kn was wrilinij i; short letter was tiie beginning of a eorresjiondenee whieh to this lady a few days before his death.") CHAl'TKR V. |.\nival in IMinlmrnli : iiitnuliutiDn to tlio m'utry ami litciuti ipf the ciiiiltal :- Maekeiizies iiotiee if liunis.s ]Hii'Mis: -iiiasciiiiy ; -notes ipu lliniis in r.dinlnnjjh, liy Du^iuld .stewiiit, I'lnf. Wiilkir. ami Sir \\ alter Scutt :-Seutti«li literature: limns and tlie I'.dinliurKli )pliilnso]pliei.s : diary; new ((inneeliinis formed in r.iliiilpnr;Ji :"eipnversaliipnal powers:— ISnnis and Dr. I'.lair: sareastie ami malajproipos rennnks : l',dinlpnr,i;li liiHvers: tavcni-life:- \\ illiain Ninil :- letters :-iPUlpliiation ipf seeond edilicpii cpf poems:— ereets tonilistone til IVr;.'Ms»(pn:— leaves V Unlpur^li.l Kiliiiii! Scotiii'iKliirlini,' hmI! All liiiil tliy I'iiliu'is ami lowers, AVliiTt* (tiii'L' Itciii'-itli II inonari'ir.s fi't't Silt IcKislntiiiiiV SH\i'iii|.'ii pnvuTs; Trom III. irking' wiMl.v-sr.iltirM tlii«"r.<, \» iin the liiiiiks nf .\yr I >triiy'il, Aiul siiii^iiiir, l>>hi-, tlh- liiigrriii;^' Iilifltfr'(l ill tliy liiiiiipiir'd Bliailc. There is an old Seottish ballad wiiieh begins thus: — As I eanie in by (Menap, 1 met an a>;ed woman, .\Md .slie liade me ilieer up iny heart. For till' lust of my days was eomiiiK. This stanza Avas one of IJurns's favourite (|Ui)talioiis ; and he t;t agreeable of companions and the most benignant of wits, took him also, as tiie poet j e.xiu-es.ses it, "under his wing." T.ie kind I IJlaekloek received him with all the warmth \ of iiaternal aU'eclion when he did wait on him, , and introdueeil him to Dr. Mlair and other : eminent literati; his sub.seription lists were I soon filled; Lord fileneairn made interest with ; the Caledonian Hunt (an association of the most distinguished members of the northern ari.stoeraey), to accept the dedication of the ' forthcoming edition, and tosubserilie iiidividu- ' ally for copies.-' Several noblemen, especially ! of the west of .Scotland, came forward with I sid)scription moneys considerably beyond the ' usual rate. In so small a capital, where every- j body know.s everybody, that which becomes a favourite topic in one circle of society, soon excites an univcr.sd interest; and before Hums : had been a fortnight in Edinburgh, wo find him writing to his earliest jiatron, Gavin Hamilton, in these terms: — "For my own aflfair.s, I am in a fair way of becoming as enunent as Thoma.s a Kempi.s or John Hun- yan ; and you may expect henceforth to sec I my birthday in.scribcd among the wonderful ; ■' IDnnis wrote to some of his Ayrshire friends to the elfeet that the Caledonian Hunt had one and all suliserilied fipr his volume, and that mcpreover they j were to ]pay one jininea each for it. ^Vllat the Hunt j did was to ilireet "Mr. Hagart . . . to suliserilie for I one !. itidred eojiies, in their name, for which he should Tin-, I Mr. Unrns twenty-five pounds, upon the pub- ; li.. '• of his book."] ' 'I i^l fid LIKK OF I!UIW;KT liCliNf events in the Poor lloMn and .Mienlcen All •ks \vi ih llie IJliu'k Monday uud till' liiittle i)f lidlhwell liriilue. It will ever In- lenieiiiln'ird to tl le honour ho at tliat jieriod held the hi^licst of the man w |i1:ii'e in I lie iniai that lie was the first who came lorwiin 'inative lileratinv ol'Seotland I to avow in jirint his admi ration of the i;enius anil hi s warm itile lercst in the fortunes of the poet. l)istin!,'nishe(l as his own v\ritings are liy the refinements of elassieal arts, Mr. Henry Miieken/ie was, fortunately for Uurns, a man of li' val lienius as well as jiolished taste; and he, ii "hose own pages some of the best L'iaborale eleganee will ever he re- lets nioi fou'nized, was amoi ig the first to feel and the first to stake his own reputation on the pnlilic avowal, that the Ayrshire ploughman lielonged to the order of heings whose ])rivilege it is to nnateh graees "beyond the reach of art." Ii is liut 11 melanelioly husi-iess to tnice among the records of literary history, the manner in which most great oriuinal geniuses have been greeted on their fir>i appeals to the world, by the eontcmjiorary arbiters of taste; coldly and timidly, indeef 1 1 le mini 1 ami the voice of the poet," and o •• the power of genius, not 1 ill drawiiiL,' the scenerv of nature, I others as showing esH admirable in tracing the manners, than in iiaintlng the pas>ioiis, or and "with what uncoiniiion ])eiu'trati(Ui and sagacity this Heaven-taught ploughman, from his humble and unlettered comlilion, liarand Master Chartcri.s and all the Oraiid Lodge of Scotlaml visited. The meeting was numerous and elegant: all the ditlerent h)dges about town were present in all their pomp. The (Jrand .Master, who presided with great solemnity, among other general toasts gave 'Caledonia and (.'aleinht iif you at all, nidess your company is ln's]i(ike a wi'uk hffoi'cliand. Tlii'iv afc i;reat rumours here of your inlimaey with the Hucht'ss of (lordon, and other ladies of tiistinetion. I ;mi really told that Ciuils til iiiviti', lly liy tliii\i«niiil.s cai'li iil;jht', and if you had one. there would also. I suiiimse, ]n' •lirilies for your old seerelarv.' I oli:-,erve vou are resolved to make hay while the sun shines, and avoid, if possihle, the fate of iioor l'ei;;iisson. :■rol)ahly furnished with a sutlicient memento every niirht - wiien, from the soft humane of jilitteriii,i; saloons, or the tnmidtuous applause of convivial assemhlies, he made his retreat to the humlde ,i;arret of a irrilir's apprentice, a native of .Mauchline, and as poor as himself, whose only hcd "Caledonia's liiii'd" was fain to jiartake tlirouyhout this triumphant winter.- 1 IThisolil nssocuite was Peter .stiinrt, tlic eilitor of till' Ijiintliiii }•:••(• II iiiij Star, tn which jiaiiir liuins sent tlic " .\c\v Psalm." He was oiiKiiially fimii Eiliii- liMr;;li. anil liiulhccn resilient in .A.vrshirc. Uefeninjito him I'.nrns, wntinjito Mrs. Dniiluii.says:— " Voinnust lays .Mr. Dn.nald .Stewart, "from all ranks and descriptions of persons, were such as would have turned any head hut his own. I cannot say that I could perceive any uiifavoiiralde eU'eet which they left on his mind, lie re- tained the >anie simidicity o*' manners and appearance which had struck me .so forcihly when 1 first .saw liliii in the country; nor did ho Kcom to feel any adtlitioiml Helf-iinportanee from the niiniher and rank of his new ae- (|uaintaiiee. " l'rofes>i)r Walker, who met him lor the first time early in the same season, at hreakfast in l)r. IJIack lock's house, has thus recorded his impre.ssions: — "1 was not much struck with his first ajipearance, as I had ))revioiisly heard it de.-crilied. His person, thminh stroiiu: and Avell knit, and much superior to what mi^ht he exiiected in a ]dou,!;liniati, was still rather coarse ill its outline. His stature, from want of setting; up, appeared to he only of the middle size, hut wns rather aliove it. ili.'t motions were firm and decided; and thoii>,di witiiout any pretensions to ttraee, were at the same time so free from clownish restraint, as to show that he had not always heen confined to the .society of his jirofession. His eounten- anee was not of that elejiant east, whiidi is most frequent amonj; the upper ranks, hut it was manly and intelliwnt, and marked hy a thounhtfiil frravity wliiidi shaded at times 'nto sternness. In his larsje dark eye the most striking!; index of his ucnius resided. It was full of mind ; and would have heen sinuularly expressive, under the nianacement of one who could cin])loy it with more art, for the luirpose of expression. "He wa.s plainly, hut jiroperly dressed, in a style midway hetwecn the holiday costume of a farmer, and that of the eom]iany with which he now assoei 'ted. His hlaek i.air, without powder, at a time when it was very generally worn, was tied heliind, and spread "alinmhlc parret" was not the dinfty apartment which mi)iht lie iiifeneil ; it wns a larse ai:il well- pri)poitiimed room, on the flr-st floor of the house, neatly iianell'd with wood, aecoidiiif; to a fasiiioii hy no means very antii|iiated then.) i' If 58 LIFE <)l' K(»IIKUT IJUIJNH. il u|M>n Ills lorolioml. I'pon the wliole, fnmi lii« pcrMoii, ]iliysio>fii(>iny, nml drcHH, liiul I nu't liiiii iR'iir II si'a])ort, itnd Ik'cii n'(|iiiiv(I tn Ruews \m condition, I hIiohM have iirolmldy »!onjccturcd liim to ho the nmtter of a mer- chant, vessel of the most respectalde ehiss. " In no part of his manner was there the HliRlitewt (loirroo of uflectation, nor eoiild a rttraKj,'er liave snspceted, from anytliim,' in liis behavionr or conversation, tliat lie had i)een for some niontiis the favourite of all the fa- Hhionaide circles of a metropolis. '• In conversation he was imwcrful. His conceptions and expressions were of corres- ponding vi,L,'onr, and on idl siily'eets were as remote ns])ossil)le from eommonplaee. Thoiiuh Bomewliat authoritative, it was in a way wiiich gave little oU'ence, and was readily imputed to his inexperience in those moilcsof sootliinir dissent and softenin,u; assertion, which are im- jiortunt characteristics of jiolished manners. After breakfast I requested him to comnmni- eiitc some of his unpnl)Iislied i)ieces, and he recited his farewell sonj; to the ' Haidcs of .\yr,' introducinu; it with a description of the cir- cumstances in whidi it was composed, more striking; than the jioem itself. " 1 paid particular attention to Ids recitation, Avliieh was plain, slow, articulate, and forcilile, hut without any elo(|uence or art. He diil not always lay tlie enii>liasis with i)ropriety, nor did he humour the sentiment by the variations of his voice. lie wa.s standinj; during the time, with his face towards the window, to which, and not to his auditors, he directed his eye — thus deprivintf himself of any additional etreet which the lan,i;ua'.;e of his composition might jiavc borrowed fnmi the language of his countenance. In this he resembled the generality of singers in ordinary company, who, to .sliun any charge of ufl'ecta- tion, witlidrawall meaning from tlieir features, and lose the advantage by which vocal per- formers on the stage augment the impres- Hion, and give energy to the sentiment of the Kong. . . . "The day after my first introduction to Burns, I .^upped in company with 1dm at ])r. IMair's. The other guests were very few ; and an each liad been invited chiefly to liave an opportunity of meeting with the poet, the doctor endeavoured to i'Hi'<'i, perhaps, from one's knowledire of his I'xirioidinary lalcnt>. His features are repivscnied in Mr. Nasmyth's pii'tiire, liiit to me it I'oiiveys the idea that they are diinini>li('il, ns if seen in perspeetive. I tiiink hiseniinteii- aiiee was more massivi- than it looks in any of the i)ortrail>. I would have taken the poi'i, had I not known what he was, for a very sagaeioiis eoiintry farmer of the old Scoteh seliool, /.<•. none of your modern afirienltiirists, who klip lalioiirers for their driiduery, Init the (loui-f ijik/i iinni who held his own plonu;li. Tliere was a siron;? e.xpression of sense ami shrewdness in all his lineaments; the eye alone, I think, indieated the poetical eharaeter and tcm]ierament. It was larne, and of a dark cast, which flowed (I say literally i/loinil) wiicn he spoke with feelinn or interest. I never saw such another eye in a human head thoiinh I have seen the most ilistiiifiuisheil men of my time. Ills conv( rsation expressed |)erfeet self-confidence, without the sli>;litest presumption. Aiiioiil!: the men who were the most, learned of their time and country, he expressed himself with jierfect firnine.s.s, but without the least intrusive forwardness; and when hedillered in opinion, he did not hesitate to express it firmly, yet at the same time with modesty. I do not rememlier any part of his conversation distinctly emniuh to he ciuoted, nor did ! ever sec him ayain, except in the street, where lie did not reeo!>nizc me, as I could not expect he should. He was much caressed in Kdinhurirh, lint (eoiisiderinp what literary emoluments have been since his day) the eH'orts made for his relief were extremely triflini;-. " I remember on this occasion I mention, I thought hurns's actiuaintance with Engli.sh poetry was rather limited, and also, that liavins,' twenty times the abilities of Allan Ra'nsay and of FergusKon, he talked of liiem wltii ton tniieh hiimilily, as his models; there wan, doubtless, national predilection in hisestimato. "This is all I can tell you about lliinis. I have only to add that his dress eorres|ionded with his manner. He was like a larmer dressed in his best to dine with the Laird. I ilo not speak In malum /mrfi m, when I say, I never saw » man in company with his superiors in station and information, more perfectly free from either the reality or the aO'eetation of embarrassment. I was told, but did not obiiervc it, that his address to females was exiicinely deferential, and always with a turn either to the iiathetie or humorous, wliieh engaged their attention particularly. I have lieai'd the late Duchess of (iordoii remark this. I i 60 LIFE OF ROBERT BURNS, wliich it WHS necessary to recall the days of '•''hrist's Kirk on the (ireen," and " I'nchlcs to th'j I'lay :" and in liis more solemn pieces, a depth of inspiration, and a massive cnertry of language, to which the dialect of his country iiad been a stranger, at least since "Dunbar tlic Jlackar." The muses of Scotland have never indeed b;en silent; and the ancient minstrelsy of the 'and, of winch a slender portion had as yet been committed to the safeguard of the press, was handed from gene- ration to generation, an(' preserved, in many a fi'agmcnt, liiitliful images ,.f the peculiar ! tenderness, and peculiar humour,of thenational fancy and character — pre?!'' us representations, I which Huiiis himself never surpassed in his \ happiest ed'orts. But these were fragments; : and, with a scanty handful of exceptions, the ] best of them, at least of the serious kind, were | very ancient. Among the numberless effusions ! of the Jacobite .Muse, valuable as wo now consider them for the record of manners and events, it would be ditlicult to point out half a dozen strains, worthy, for poetical excellciicc alone, of a place among the old chivalrous ballads of the Southern, or even of the High- land Hordcr. Generations had passed away since any Scottish poet had appealed to the sympathies of his countrymen in a lofty Seot- tisii strain. The dialect itself had been hardly dealt with. "It is my opinion," said J)r. (ieddes, "that those who, for almost a century past, have written in Scotch, .\llan Itanisay not excepted, have not duly dis; riminated the genuine idiom from iis vulgarisms. They seem to have acted a siinilar part to certain pretended ini'triidis of Spenser and Jlilton, who fondly ii lagine that they are ccp.ing from those great models, when they only mimic their anticjue mode of spelling, their obsolete term.*, and their ir- regular constructions." And although 1 cannot well guess what tiie doctor considered as the irregular constructions of Milton, there can be no doubt o" the general justice of his observa- tion.s. Kainsay and Fergusson Averc both men of humble condition, the latter of the nieanc; t, the former of no very eleitant lu.bits; and the dialect which had once pleased the ears of kings, who themselves did not disdain fo display its powers and elegancies in verse, did not come untarnished ♦hrougii their hands. Fergusson, who was entirely town-bred, smelhs more of the Cowgate than of the country ; and pleasing as l{amsay's rustics are, he a]>i>ears rather to have observed the surface of rin-al manners, in casual excursions to I'enycuik and the Hunter's Try>te. than to have expressed the results of intinnite knowledge and .sym- ' jiathy. His dialect was a somewhat incon- gruous mixture of the I'lipcr Ward of I^anark- sliire and the Luckenbooths; and he could neither write English verses, nor engraft Kuglish phraseology on his Scotch, without betraying a huncntable want of skill in the use of Ills instruments. It was reserved for Burns to interpret the imnnst sdul of the Scot- tish peasant in all its moods, anil in verse ex(|uisitely and inten>i'ly Scotti>h. without degrading either his siiiiinients m- his language with one touch of vulgarity. Such is the delicacy of native taste, and the power of a truly nuisculine genius. This is the more remarkable, when we con- sider that the ('i ilect of ISiuns's native district is, in i;ll mouiiis bi'l h\< own, a peculiarly ottensive one — far removed from that of the favoured districts in which the ancient min- strelsy ajipears, with rare exce}ilions, to have been produced. l^ven in the elder days, it seems to have been provcrliial for its coarse- ness:' and the Covenanters were not likely to mend it. The few poets whom the \\'est of Scotland had prodiu-cil in the old time, were all men of high condition; and win", ol' course, used the language, not of their own villages, but of Holyrood. 'fheir prod'iclioiis, nntre- over, in so far as tliev have been juoduced, had mithing to do with tlie jiei'iiliar character and feelings of the men of the \\'est.. As Burns himself has said, — ' It is soniewh.it singular, that in Lanark, lienfrew, .\yr, Xc. , there is scarcely an old ^oiii;- (u- tune, which, from the title, itc. can be i:uessed to belong to, or be the production of, those counties." The history of Scotii.-h literatinv, iiom the 1 Dunbiir, aninim utlicr sarcasms on liis aiilnuoiiist KciiiiiMly, say.s :- - I Iiaii on nie ;< p.iir iif l,(rtlii;iirr liipi"' Salt fninr luylis m:ik. iiiiil iiKiirpcrf.vt ', Than tliou c;in t.l;ililn.r uitli tlij Curiic k lipi.K. - .*ucli as Kennedy, Sliaw, Montgomery, ami. inoie lately, naniiltoii of (iiliieittUld, Who iiiide the lirakc-^ ■•( Ainlri. lomr nsound The plaintive dirge i'uut ni.iuru d Ida fiivouiite hound. LIFE OF ROBEIIT BUENS. 61 Hiiiou of the fi'Dwiis to that of the kinirdoms, Jiiis not yet been inacle the subject of iiiiy Kciiurate work, at uU worthy of its iiniiortunce ; nay, however iiuieh we are iiulebtoil to the learned hibour.s of I'inkertoii, Irving, and ot hers, enough of the iji'iicral obscurity of which Wurtou comji'iincd still continues, to the no small discredit of so acconiidished a nation. Uiit how miserably the lifcnititiv of the coun- trv was affected by the loss of the court under whose immediate patronage it, had, in almost all [(receding times, found a measure of jn-otec- tion that will over do honour to the memory of the unfortunate house of Stuart, appears to be indicated with Mitiicient plainness in the single fact, thrt no man can point out any Scottish atithoi f the first rank in all the long period whicii intervened between Huclianan and llunie. The renn)val of the chief nobility and gentry, conseijuent on the legislative union, apjieared to destroy our last liojies as ■A separate nation, possessing a separate litera- ture of our own; nay, for a time to have all but extinguished the flame of intellectual ex- ertion and ambition. Long torn and harassed by religious and i)olitical feuds, ibis people had at last beard, ax, many believed, the sen- tence of irremediable degiiidalion pronounced by the lijis of their own pi ince and jiarliann'nt. The universal si)irit of Scotland was hinnbled; tiie unhappy insurrections of l"];") and 171."), revealed the full extent of her intirnal dis- union; and England took, in some respects, merciless advantage of the fallen. Time, however, jiassed on; and Scotland, reeoxerinir at, last from the blow which hiul stunned her energies, began to vindicate her ]ireiensions, in the (uily departments which had been left open to her, with a zeal and a succ!" vliich will ever distini;uish one of the lu-igl..ust pages of her history. Deprived of every nati(uial honour and distinction Avhich it was possible to remove — all the high branches of exteriuil amiiiiion lopped oil' — -link at last, as men thought, effect iially into a province, willing to take law witli i)assivc siihmi.ssioii, in letters as well as polity, noni her jiowerfiil sister — the old kingdom revive'! suddeiUy !rom her stuiior, and om'c more Jisseited lur name in reel.: mations, which 1-ng- land was c(uni)elled not only to hear, but toap- I'l.iud, and "wl jrev.iih all f^urojie rung from ' side to side," at the moment when a national poet came forward to profit by the reflux of ] a thou.sand half- forgotten sympathies — amid.st I the full joy of a national pride, revived and re-established beyond the dream of hope. It will always reflect honour on the galaxy of eminent men of letters, who, in their vari- ous departments, shed lustre at that i)eriod on the name of Scotland, that they suffered no pedantic prejudices to interfere with their re- ception of Ihirns. Had he not appeared per- sonally among them, it may be reasonably doubted whether this would have been so. They were men, generally speaking, of very social habits; living together in a small capital, nav, almost all of them in or about one street; 1 maintaining friendly intercourse contiinially ; not a few of them considerably adilicted to the pleasures which have been called, by way of I excellence 1 i)resume, convivial. Ikirns's ' poetry might have pro.'ured him access to . these circles; but it was the extraordinary re- ; sources he displayed in conversation, the i strong vigorous sauacitv of his observations on life and maimers, the splendour of his wit, and the '-;iowing energy of his elotpience when his feelings were stirred, that made him the oliject of serious admiration among those jtracti.sed masters of the art of lnlL: There were several of them who probably adopted in their hearts the opinion of Xewton, that '• poetry is ingeni- ous mulsense. " .\dani Smith, for one, could : liave had no very ready respect at the service i of such ail unproductive lai)ouier as a maker of Scottish ballad.-; but the stateliest of tlie,-e I)liilosophers hail enough to do to maintain the attituileof e(|uality when brought into personal contact with Burns's gigantic understanding; and every one of them, whos'- imju-essions on the subject have been recorded, agrees in pro- nouncing his conver.sation to have been the ^ most remarkable thing about him. I And yet it is amusing enom;h to trace the linuering reluctance of some of tho.se polished scholars, about admitting, even to themselves, in his absence, what it is certain they all felt suflicieiitly Avhen they were actually in his Itrescnce. It is dillicuU, for cxam|ilo, ti, read •without a smile that letter of ..Mr. Dugald Stewart, in which he deserilies himself and ]\lr. Alison as being surprised to discover that ]hi s, after reading the latter :aitlior's elegant LIFE OF EGBERT BUENS. E^ay on Taste, luid really been able to form | innwHt xoul,. with unreserved conjhlence, to some Hhrewd enough notion of the general i ((HO^/i^'r, vilhout hazard of loxhm part of that principles of the association of /(te(.t. \rpxp<'ct which man deserve.^ from man; in; Burns wouUl jiroijably have been more satis- j from the unavoidable imperfections attcndini; ficd with himself in these learned societies, hud human nature, of one day repenting his conti- he been less addicted to giving free uttenince tlcnce. in conversation to the very feelings which! "For these reasons, I am determined to formed the noblest inspirations of his poetry, make those pages my coniident. I will sketch His sensibilily was as tremblingly ex(iuisito j out every character that any way strikes nic, as his sense was masculine and solid; and he to the best of my power, with unshrinking seems to have, ere long, suspected that the justice. I will insert anecdotes, and take professional metaphysicians who applauded his down remarks, in the olil law phrase, without rajtturous bursts, surveyed them in reality with something of the same feeling wiiich may fi'.ud or favour. — Where 1 hit on anything clever, my own applause will, in some measure, lie supposed to attend a skilful surgeon's in- j feast my vanity; and, begging Tatrochis' speetion of a curious specimen of morbid and Achates' pardon, I think a lock ami key Why should lie lay his inmost anatomy heart thus o])en to dissectors, who took s])ecial care to kecji the knife from their own breasts? Tl;e secret blush that overspread his haughty countenai.jo when such su'jgestions occurred a security, at least ecpial to the bosum of any friend whatever." And the .sime luiking thorn of suspici him in his solitary luuirs. may be traced in but not rciiwct ." ^ the opening lines of a diary which he began " Burns." says a great living jioet, in coin- to keep ere he had been long in Edinburgh. nicnling im the free style in which Dr. Curric "Ajiril 9, 17>S7. .\s [ have .seen a good did not hesitate to expose some of the weaker deal of human life in Kdinburgh, a great jiarts of his behaviour, very soon alter the many characters which are new to one bred grave hail closed on him. — " Burns was a up in the shades of life as I have been. I am determined to take down my remarks on the spot. Gray observes, in a letter to Mr I'algrave, that, half a word fi.xcd, upon or near tlie spot, is worth a cartload of recollec- tion.' I don't know how it is with the world in general, but with me, making my remarks is by no means a solitary pleasure. I want some one to laugh with me, some one to bo man of extraordinary genius, whose birth, education, and employments had placed and kejit him in a situation far below that in which the writers and readers of expensive volumes arc usually found. Critics upon works of fiction have laid it down as a rule, that re- moteness of place, in fi.xing the choice of a subject, and in prescribing the mode of treat- ing it, is eipial in effect to distance of time; grave with me, some one to please me and : restraints may be thrown ofl' accordingly, help my discrimination, with his or her own | .ludgo then of the delusions wliici artificial emark, and at times, no doubt, to admire my ! distinctions iini)ose, when to a man like Dr. acutene.ss and penetration. The Avorld is so busied with selfish pursuits, ambition, vanity, Carrie, writing with views so honourable, the sorial condition of the individual of whom he mony might be discarded with him, and his memory sacrificed, as it were, almost without le cfushid interest, or pleasure, that very few tliink it , was treating, could seem to jilace him at such worth tlicir while to make any ob.servation on a distance from the exalted reader, that cere- wliat passes around them, except where that observation is a sucker, or branch of the darling plant they ar rearing in their fancy. ' compunciiim. This is indeed to Koram I .sure, notwi"- '•inding all ihcscuti. Ixnimth the furrow's wciiiht."'- }vci>tal jUi/hlsofuor 'cru and the so ijc p/,;. ' lowphij of iuor(di.tt.'<, hrr we arc capable of M«uni9'.s exact words arc: •■ I .Ion t well kima or, >•■>♦;.„..(„ ..,1 .„..!• i-i- !■ r • 1 wlint istlu! reasdii of it, liiit si'iMcliiiWnidtlicr tlioi:;;li Ro intimate and cordiai a coalition ot fricm - , „ , t i ■ i .. n ■ > i , . I am, wlicn I have a ninid, jFictty ficucralh licloveil ; Hhip, ff.s that one man ma;/ pour out A/.s- lio.toni, yet I iicvcrcoiiM -et thcait nf,,,iiM.ia.Miuv'icsiivct. J his cveri/ (houi/ht and jlontimj fam-ij, his very , 2 \v„nlswort)r.s letter to a friend of LUirus. LIFE OF ROBERT BURNS. GU iijhlence, lo part, of that n works of idc, that, re- ! choice of a »le of treat- nce of time; ucordinuly. uc 1 artificial nan like Dr. iiiuraldc, tlie of wlmni lie him at sncii cr, tiiat ccrt- hini, and his most without he criti/icil Hit well kliiiw .iiitliiT tli(ir.;;ll ciiillv hi'lovnl; lllill.'l'CSII-.'tt. J liurns. It would lie idle to suppose that the feelings here ascribed, and justly, no (picstion, to the amiable and benevolent ('urrie, did not often find their way into the bosoms of those persons of sui>crior condition and attainments, with wlmm Burns associated at the period when he first emerged into the blaze of reputation; and wliat found its way into men's bosoms, was not likely to avoid betraying itself to the jHMsiMcaeious glance of the proud peasant. How perpetually he was alive to the dread of Ipciug looked down ujion as a man, even by I liose who most zealmisly applauded the works (if his genius, might perhaps be traced through the whole sequence of iiis letters. When writing to nicii of high station, at least, he preserves, in every instance, the attitude of self-defence. IJut it is only in his own secret tables that we have the fibres of his heart laid bare, iiiid liie cincer nl' this jealousy is .seen distinctly at its iiaint'ul work ; hahcuttH jritm I't vnnJiti'Dtim. "There are few of the sore evils under the sun i;i\ c me more uncMsiucss and chagrin than tlie coni[i:irisoii how a man of geniu-., nay of avowed worth, i-; received everywhere, with the rciTpiion which a mere ordinary character, decorated with the trappings aiul futile dis- tiiK-tioii-; of fortune, meets. I imagine a miin of al)iliiies, his brca-i glowing with honest priile, coiise heart is not worth three farthings, meet wiih attention ansible to get throueh it." This mostcnrious document, it is to be oliscrved, has not yet been "•' iteil entire. .Vnother generation will, n bt, .see the whole of the ,'onfes>io'; ;'-' .ver, 1 D'TsriU'li on tlic l.itrmry Chtn'tn-t'i\\. p. i;!(i. - [This (oiiiiiMii-iiliiee liook wa.s imt iiiinlislieil in it.s ciitiiety till IsTs) when it appeareil in MdeiiilUfin's <>4 LIFE OF ROBERT BURNS. what has already been given, it may be siir- miseil, indicates suHiciently the c(>n)i>le.\ioii of JJurn.s's iirevailing moods, during !iis moments of retirement, at lliis interesting period of Ids history. 1 1 was in sueli a mood (tJiey recni red often enougji) that lie tlius reiiroaelied •'Xa ture — i)artial nature :" — Tlioil Kivst tlR' jisM liis liiik', tlic snail his slioll, The envfucinil wasp victcnioiis Knanls his (■(.■11 : lint, oh; tin. 11 liittcr stepmother, and lianl. To thy poor fciii'i'le.ss nak(.'(l child, flic liani. fn naked fecliiiij tiiid in nchhuj pride. He hears tlic iinlndkcn hlast from cvcrv side' TJierc was ]irol)a')ly no idast tliat pierced tliis haughty soul so sharply as the contumely of condescension '•One of the poet's remark.s," a.s C'romck tells us, '-whcu he first came to Edinburgh, was, that between the men of rusfic life and the polite wo /hi he observed little diflerence — that in tlio former, though unpolished by fashion and unenlightened by science, he had found mud' observation, and much intelligence — but a refined and accomjdished woman was a thing almost nert' t(> him, and of which he had formed but a very inadequate idea. " To be pleased, is the old and the best receipt how to please: and there is abundant evidence that Hurn-.'s success among the high-born ladies of Kdii burgh, was much greater than among the '■sf;itely patricians,'' a.s he calls them, of liis own se.x. The vivid expre.ssion of one of them has become proverbial — that slie never met with a man, "who.se conversation .so com- pletely set licr oil' her feet;" and Sir Walter Scott, in his reference to 'Ij testimony of the late Duchess of (Jordon, i;;i ■. -loubt indicited tlic twofold source of the fa.scmu'. cu. 1 tit cv'f ii here, he was destined to feel er : I .n r some- tiiing of the fickleness of fl^llio!l. (In con- fessed to one of h '(ofo'c lie wea.son was over, that >si:r \\\\n 'i,,! < .-csseii Miirjrizine. X.itwithstaii(lin!.'t' .. f.ic* ''at I 'lU'rlc Imd imlilislifd extracts from it, .\llnn t'ln, iug'iain ir.ii ('riiniel< allc;;L(l that it was stdlen irou. iJur i.c'.i'onj- in^'s ill the latter part of 1VJ57 'ir V. '^'iiiii;;' of ;"5ij. Kiir many years the >tS. lay, unrei ■ pi : •.•;d hl t.ie iiiissiii}; cdiiiiiKUi-iilacc Ixjok, in the possv^^i n ,i, Jfr. .Maciiiillaii. the imhlisher. Alexanikr .''niith ninde use of it ill ISii.'i. Inii de.sclilied it as a "Vdliinie (if early scrajis undevstoiMl to have heen presented hy the poet to -Mrs. Duiilop. ) I .Second Epistle to tiiahani of Ijiiliy. him tiie most zealously, no longer seemed to know liini, wlien he bowed in jia.ssiiig their carriages, and many more acknow edged his salute but coldly. It is but too true, that ere tliis season was over Murn.s had formed connections in Kdin- Imrgii which could not have been regarded with much approbation by the eniineiil literati in whose .society his Jr/iKt hail';aguo iiu<; uost fdiniidable rival'-' — a niai', certainly enddwed with extraordinary graces •' "he Kev. \t'in. Oreeii field, who was professor of rh< '■'I ic in the I'liiversity of t'.dinbiiryli, and beeaine coliei-fiiie to I)v. lllair in Feliy. 17s7. lie had the ('(•trreeof l).l). afterwards cdiifened (Oi him. and in ITiMi he wa.s elected ModeiatdPof the deneial Assem- bly. If was deposed fidiii the ministry for "scati- daldiis condiut" in IT'.ts, and died ahroad in }>^-17. The Kev. Koliert Walker, whose name was j;iveii hy I.orkhart in a iidte as the e(dlea'.'iie referred to. ditd ill 17.SJ, three years litfoie liurns .saw Edinliiir),'Ii.) j LIFE OF ROBERT BURNS. m of voii'C anil inuniier, ii uenerous and amialilc j clergyman, aiul at hipnkjaat. V.ww ti- tlic >lrainiit'l'eelinLr, aiidacoipioustlowof lan.n'iiagc; \ ladies, when lie suspected them of ui>liina: to JMit having no pretcn.sior.s either to the f^cneral j make a show of him, he could not liclii udmin- ui'eomidishmeuts for which Ulair was honoured j istcring a litde of his villat^e discipline. A in a most aecomplisheil society, or to the certain stately peeress sent to invile him, polished elegance which he first introduced without, as he iUncieiance, had he not been well aware of ihc rarity of such good-nature among the ijiiiiia irrilnhi/i' of authors, orators, and wits. \ specimen (which some will tliink worse, r-ouie belter) is thus recorded by Cromek : — •• \l a private breakfast, in a literary circle of iMlinburgh, the conversation turned on tlie poetical merit and pathos of (Iray's J'J/c'Jii. a [loem nf which he was enthusiastically fond. .\ clergyman i)resent, rejiiarkable for his love of Iianidox, and for his eccentric notion.s upon every .-ubject, distinguished himself by an in- judiciou> and ill-timed attack on this exquisite poem, which IJurns, with generous warmth for the reputation of (iray, manfully defended. .\s tiie gentleman's remarks were rather general ilian specific, IJurns urged him to bring for- ward the passages which he thought exception- able, lie made several attemjjts to quote the poem, but always in a blunilering, inaccurate uiauner. Burns bore all this for a good while witii his usual good-natured forbearance, till at length, goaded by the fa.stidious criticisms and wretched <|uibblings of his opponent, he rouseil iMm>elf, and with an eye flashing con- tempt and indignation, and with great vehe- mence of gesticulation, he thus addressed the old critic : ' Sir, I now perceive a man may be an cxccllenf Judge of poetry by s(]uarc and rule, and afti'r all be ad — d blockhead;'" — >o far, Mr. (.'roniek ; and all this was to a of , provided her ladyship Avill invite also the learned pig." — Such an aninud was then exhibiting in the (irassm.irket. While the second edition of poems was pass- ing througli the jircss. Burns was favoured with many critical suggestions and amend- ments; to one of which oidy he attended, lilair, reading over with him, or hearing him recite (which he delighted at all times in doing) his " Holy Fair," .stopped him at the stan/.a - Nuw a the c(ins.'re!;atioii o er Is silent cxiiL'ttation, For .Mipotliu speels the holy ilo' r ilimljs \Vi' tidings o' ■..aleation. "Nay," said the dector, "read ilcnuifiHoii." Burns imi>roved the wit of the verse, undoulit- edly, by adopting the emendation; but he gave another strange specimen of want of ^"7, when he insisted that Dr. Blair, one of i!ic most .scrupuUuis observers of clerical propriety, .should permit him to acknowledge the obliga- tion in a note. But to pass from these trifles — it needs no effort of imagination to conceive wlnif the scn- .sations of an i.^olated .set of scholars (almost all either clergymen or jjrofessors) niu.>t have been in the presence of this big-boned, black- browed, brawny stranger, with his great flashing eyes, wlio, having fc)rced his way among them from the plough-tail at a single stride, manifested in the whole strain of ids bearing ami conver.sation, a most thorough conviction, that in a society of the most eminent men of his tuition, he was exactly where he was cntii'ed to be : hardly deigned to flaiier them by exhibiting even an occa- sional symittom of being flattered by their notice: by turns calmly measured hitnself against the most cultivated understandings of his time in discu8.slon; overpowered the 1)0)1 wcC.s' of tlie most celebrated convivialists by broad floods of merriment, impregnated m j"« ,1 (to LIFE OF ItOJiEllT BUENS. with all the burninj,' life of genius; iisldtiiiiicd Ixisoms hjil)it)iiilly enveloped in the tlirice- piled folds of sociiil rusei'vo, l>y coiniiellini,' tlii-ni to trenililc— iiiiy, to tremble visil)ly — luiK'iith the li'iirless toiieli of iiiitiinil juithos ; and all this without indicating the smallest willingness to he ranked among those profes- sional minislers of exeili'nicnt, who are eon- tent to lie paiil in money and smiles for doing what the s|ieclat(U-s and andilors would Itc ashamed of doing in their own jiersons, even il' ihcy had the power of doing it; anil, — last and proliahly worst of all, — who was known to he in the hahit of enlivening soeieties whieli they would have scorned to a])proacli, still more freipiently than their own, -villi elo.pience no less magnificent; with wit in all likelihood still more daring; often enough, as the superiors whom he fronted without alarm might have guessed fnun the lieginniiig, and had, ere long, no occasion to guess, with wit pointed at tlu niselves. The lawyers of iMlinhurgh. in whose wider circles Burns figured a( his outset, with at least as inuch success as among the professional literati, were a very diU'ercnt, race of mc.'n from these; they wouhl neither, 1 lake it, have pardoned rudeness, nm- been alarmed iiy wit. Hut being, in those days, with .scarcely an exception, members of the landed aristo- cracy of the country, .jid forming by far the most inlluentiiil body (as indeed they still do) in the society of Scotland, they were, jicrhaps, as proud a set of men as ever enjoyed the trampiil ideasures of uncpicstioned superiority, What their haughtiness, as a body, was, may be gue.s.sed, when we know that inferior birth was reckoned a fair and legitimate ground for excluding any nian from the bar. In one re- markable instance, about this very time, a man of very extraordinary talents and acc.,ni- plislmients was chiefly ojiposed in a long and l>.".inful strugule for admission, and. in reality, for no reasons but those t have been alluding to, by gentlenieu who. in the se(|uel. • d at the very head of the Whig party in Edinnurgh; ' and the same aristocratieal jirejudice has, j within the memory of the ]>resent generation. : kept more persons of eminent e stateliness Jbirns so long reiiienibered ■•ind .so bitterly resented. It might, perhaps, have been well for him had stateliness been the worst fault of their manners. Wine-biblMiig ajipears to be in most regions a favourite indiilgei e with those wlio.se bruins and lungs are subjected to the severe exercises of legal study and forensic practice. To this day, more traces of these old habits linger about the Inns of Court than in any other .section of l.iuidon. In Dublin and Hdin- burgli, the barristers are even now eiiiiiieiiily convivial bodies of men; but among the Scotch lawyers of the time of Burns, the principle of Jollity was indeed in its "high and palmy state." lie partook hirgt'ly in those tavern seencsof audacious hilarity, which then soothed, as a matter of course, the arid labours of the northern woZ/A.^w (/c /n rolif (so they are well called in Ji'idi/nKiit/'/), and (d' which we are favoured with a siiecimeii in the •• High .liiik^" chapter of d'ni/ Ma inn rin;/. The tavern-life is nowadays nearly extinct everywhere; but it was then in full vigcuir in I'/dinburgh, and there can be no doubt that Burns rai)idly familiiirized himself with it during his residence. He had, after all. t.asle I but rarely of such excesses while in .\yrshire. So little are we to consider hi> ".'^colcdi Drink," and other j'ovial strains of the early period, as conveying anything like a fair notion of his actual course of life, that '•Auld Nanse Tiimock," or •• I'oosie Naih ic," the .Mauchline landlady, i known lo h.ive ex- jiressed, amusingly enough, her surprise at the style in which she found her name cele- brated ill the Kilmarnock editi(Ui. Miying, '■that Kobert Burns might be a \ery clevir lad. but he certainly was VKjiirillf.-'.t. as, to the best of her belief, he had never taken three half mutchkin.s in her house in all hi- life."' .\nd in additicui to (iilbeit's testimony to the same purinise, we have (Ui record that of Mr, Archibald Bruce (i|ualified by Heron, "a gentleman of great worth and disceriinieiit"). that he had observed Burns closely during that period of his life, and .seen him 'steadily resist such soliciiations and allurements to convivial enjoyments, as hardly any other person could have witlistooil." I y\v. R. ("hainbi'isR MS. iii)tcs. taWcii (liiriiit; a tour ill Ayrsliiii'. incss Hiinifi ly resented. L'M for liiiii .lilt of their lie in ino.>t tli(i.- •• Scotidi if I lie early like a fair thai •■.\iihl aiieie," the have c.\- suriirise at name eclo- on, sayinir, >ery clever '. as. to the taken three 1 hi> life."" iioiiy to the iJKil of Mr. Ilcmn, "a ernint'iil"). •ely diiriii,!; n ".steadily nnients to any other en (luriiiK a LIFE OF ROBERT BURNS. 07 The unfortunate Heron knew IJuriis well; and himself niin.i,'led hirj.;ely' in some of the scenes to wliieh lie adverts in the following strong langua.sre : — "The cntiecmeuts of idea- sure too often unman our virtuou.s resolution, even while wo wear the air of rejectiin;' them with a stern hrow. Wc resist, and resist, and | ri'sist; hut, at last, suddenly turn, and passion- ately emhraee the enchantress. The liiirk.-< of i IMiiihurnh aeeomplished, in re.irard to liurns, ' that in which tlio huors of .\yrsliire had failed. .\fter residinu; some months in lMlinlMiri;h, lie liejian to cstranire himself, not altogether, hut ill some measure, from graver friends. Too many of liis hours were now spent at the tables of persons who delighted to urge conviviality to drunkenness— in the tavern and in the hp.thel."- It would 1)0 idle noir to atteniitt jiassing over these things in silence; hut it coi d servo no good purpose to dwell on tlieni. During this winter Hiiriis continued, as has hicn mentioned, to lodge with .lulin llichnioiul; and we have the authority id' this early friend of the poet for the sljitcmenl, that while he did so, "he ke])t good hours."'' lie removed aficrwarils to the house of .Mr. William N'icol lone of the teachers of the High Schoul of! I'.dijihurgh), on the Bucdeiich I'oad [liiiccleuch I'end]. and this (diaii'je is, i suppose, to he ' considered as a symptom that the keeping of : i:ood hours was heninning to he irkscmie.'' Nicol was a man of (|uick jiarts and consider- j ahlc learning, who had risen from a rank as hunihle as hurns's; from the heginning an ciiiliusiastic adiniror, and, ere Ioiil', a constant a>sociate of the pool, and a most daniicrous associate ; for, with a warm heart, the man united a tierce irascihle temper, a scorn of 111 luy of the decencies of life, a iioi.sy contempt nf relidini, at loiist of the religious institutions '>f hi* country, and a violent propensity for ' .See Hunis's ulhisidiis to Hirnn's own lialiits, in ■ l''f-tical T:iiistle t(i Ulackldck, " 178!). = Heron, ]). '27. ^ Xi.te.s liy Mr. R. C'lmiiiliers. ■• ICIiainliors e\])lains that it was on accimnt of hl.s friend lliihiiKiinl liaviiiL' in the interval lietwcen liiinisK .lepartiiie fioiii Ediiilinivli (May .'itlO and lii.« ivtuiM ( \ii!,'ust 7tli) taken in aiKither fellciw-liMl^'er, tl'at lUiriis was uliliged to accept teiiipnrnry accoiii- iiiodaticn in tlie lioiise of his friend Nicul. who was to lie his ooiiipaniipii in the i oiiteiiiphitcd ITIjlduiiil tour.) tlic bottle. He was one of those who would fain believe themselves to be men of genius; and that genius is a sutVicient apologv for trampling under foot all the old vulgar rules of prudence and sobriety, — being on both points e<|ually inistakeii. Of Nicid's letters to Hums, and about him, I have .seen many that have never been, ami probaldy that never will be, printed — cumbrous and pedantic eli'iisions, e.vhib- iting nothing that one can imagine to have been pleasing to the poet, except what was probably enough to redeem all imperfections --namely, a rapturous admiration of his .genius. This man, nevertheless, was, I siis- ])ect, very far from being an unfavoiirablo s]iecimen of the society to whom Heron thus alludes: — " He (the poet) sinj'rrnl hini.self to be surrounded by a race of miserable being.s, who were ]n'oud to tell that they had been in comically with IJiitx.s, aii.'' Heron adds — '■ He now also began to contract soinelhing of new arrogance in conversation, .\ccusionied to be, among his favmirite a~-ociates, what is vulgarly, but e.\iire>sively, c.illcd the cock of the company, he could scarcely refrain from indulging in similar freedom ,iiid diciaiorial decision of talk, even in the presence of persons who could less patiently endure his presump- tion;"'' an account i-x J'urh pndiablc, and which sutliciently tallies with some hints in ^Ir. Hugald Stewart's description of the poet's manners, as he first observed him at ('atrinc, and with one or two anecdote^ already cited from Walker and Cromek. Of these failings, and indeed of all Hunis's failinirs. it may be safely ;isserted. that there was more in his history toaecouni and apidogi/.e for them, than can be alleged in regard to almost any other great man's imperfections. We have .seen, how, even in his earliest days, the strong thirst of distinction irhiwed within him — how in his first and nide-f rhymes he sung - — to lie -.'reat is chaniiinv;; 5 Heliill. p. 28. «8 LTFi: OF ROBERT BURNS. Ij I is ami we liavu ul>o scon, tliat tlio ilisplav of talent in convcrxition was tlie tiiM means of (listinrliipu that iMviirred td liini. It was l>y tliat talinit that lie first, ai trailed notice anioni; his fellow-penmints. and after he mingled with the first Seotclinieii of his time, this talent was still tiiat wiiii'h appeared the most astonishins;- of all he possessed. Wiint wonder that he shonld deliv'ht in exerting it wiiero he eonld exert it the most freely — wlierc there wan no eheek upon a toni,'ne that hail lieen aeenstoi 1 to rev' in the license of village -masterv? vlijri ' lily, however hold, was snre to he reeoivcd with Iriiimphaiit applause — where there were no elaim- ival his- no ]>i()iul hrows to eonvcy rohiike. ahove all, perhaps, no grave eyes to convey regret? " Nonsense," says t'liniUerland, ''talked hy men of wit and understanding in the hours of relaxation, is of the very finest c>scnce of eoiiviviality ; I > t it implies a trust in the company not alv.a_ to he risked." It was little in Hurn.s'M cluinieter to suhmit to nice and scrupulous rules, when he knew, that hy crossing the street, he could find society who would applaud him the more, the more heroically all sucli rules were dis- regarded ; and he who had passed frem the company of the Jolly l)n the l.''ili of .lannary, 17S", we find him thus addressing his kind patroness, .Mr-. Dunlop: — " Yon are afraid I >iiali grow intoxic-ated with my prosperity as a jioet. .Mas! nmdani, I know myself and the world too well. I do not mean any airs of afl'ected modesty ; I am willing to lielievc that my abilities deserved some notice; but in a most enlightened, informed age and nation, when jioetry is and has been the study of men of the first nalurjil genius, aided with all the jiowers of polite learning, polite books, and iiolite company — to be dragged forth to the full ylare of learned and polite oliservalion, with all my imperfec- tions of awkward rusticity, and crinle tind uniiolished ideas on my head, I assure you. madam, I do not dissemble when I tell you I tremble for the consequences. The novelty of a jwet in my obscure situation, without any of those advantages which arc reekoneo well. I do lodcsly; I am itics deserved I'ldiLTJiteiied, poetry is and ic first natund vers of polite te e()iiii)aiiy — lure of learned my iiiiperl'ei'- id enidc and 1 assure you. n 1 tell you I riie novelty of , without any ekoned neee>- it lliis time of ]ud>lie notice, it, where I am ,• abilities are too surely do idc will leav(^ low the mark this once for i do not wish Hut, 'Wlicn es,' you will ul)l)le of fame oxieated with lookiii'i for- ty, .Moore : — ges is, in dy ven wlio are iitial dream. vas, and still ly (■iini])eers, , while evcr- ^ >hall allow I ;im ^■ery imc poi'lieul rilers, either acquainted lit? whom 1 ve seen men is from what iriii'iiinli^v of lliouslit. ... I scorn the aU'ectalion of M'cmiui;' modesiy lo cover sell'-ciiiiceit. 'I'iiat I have some merit, I do not deny ; Itut {see. Willi lre(|iient wriiininus of heart, tiiat the M(i\('lly of my charinier, and I he honest iia- lioiial prejudici' of my counliymen. have li(priie me (o ii heinlil allou'elher iiiileiialih' to my .il.ililies. - \nd lastly, April ihc -I'M. 17n7, we have the lollowiiii;- pa-saite in a letter also In Dr. .Moore;- "1 leave Ivlinliiiruh in the coiirse of ten days or a I'orlniuht. I >hall I'd urn to my riir.il sIukIcs, /'// nil likiUhiiinl III ri-r iiiitri' In i/iiil (Inni. I have I'ormed many intimacies and friendships here, Inil I Ilia iij'rniil lliiij iirf nil n/' Ino liiiih r a cim- ali-Kflloii to lii'itr I'lifr'atiji' a /lumlri'd diiil jiflij iiiili-<. One W(U'd more on the sultjeet which iiitro- diiced llieseipiotatioiis;— .Mr. Duuald Stewart, no (h>ulit, hints at what, was a common enoui>'h complaint amon,!^ the ele>;'aiit literati of I'.din- liiiri;h. when he alludes, in his letter tol'unie, lo the "iKit very select -ociety " ill which Hums liidulg'ed himself. Hut I wo points still remain somewhat douhtfiil; namely, whether, show and marvel of the .season as he v.."s, the •■ .\yishire ploiinhman " really hid it in his power to live iiliriii/.-i in sot iety which .Mr. Siewart, Would iiave considered as " very >elect;'' ami secondly, whether, in so doinij;, he could have failed to chill the aHection of I hose humlile .\yrsliire I'rieiids, who, haviiii; shared with him all that they jiossessed on his lirst arrival in the metropolis, faithfully and fondly adhc'd to him, after the sprinn'- tide of fasliioiiai)Ie favour did, as he foresaw it would do, •recede;" and, moreover, jier- lia|is lo provoke, auum.i; the hiulier circles themselves, criticisms more distasteful to his proud stomach than any prohalile e(Uise(|ueMces of the course of c, IaHii- hiiiiili, ■>->il MkivIi. 17s7. - It was to this artist that liuriis sat tor the portrait eii.iriavcd ill ('leech's edition, and since re|ieaterepaied a '■ahiiiet jiortrait of the iioet at full leniith as he appeared in Ivlinhuruh, in the first he.vda.v of his reputation; dressed in tif;ht .jockey lioots, very ti.uht liiickskin liii'eches, accordiiin' to the fashion of the day, and (.lai-ohite as he was) in what was considered the '• Fox "-livery, viz., a blue coat and liiitf waistcoiil, with broad blue stripes. The sketch, an enuraviii',;- from which appi'ared as title- pai;e to the tlist editions of l.ockharfs r.il'<', was said by siiivivint; friends to be a very lively representa- tion of the bard as In; lirst attracted public notice on the streets of I'.diiiburuh.j 70 MI'K or liol'.KIM' Mlh'NS. A IJiini.t was t'.ir too Imsy wiili .-ociolv ami jii>l piililic i.-U'iin. In llic iiiiilst of iIhwo iilworviition to fimi linu' I'or iioutifai coiniiosi- c'iii|iloyiiK'iit.>. wliicli voiir Hiliialioinvill render lion, (Inrinw lii> iii-l ivsiilence in IMinl)>ii',irli. iiroper, yon will not, I hope, m/j^leet to ]ini. Creeeh's edition inehided M>nie pieces ol irreal mole that esleeni. Ii.v enllivatiiii; your Renins, merit, whieli liud not hecn previously printcil ; and allendinir to .sneh imxlnetions of it as may lint, witli tiic L'Xecption of the '-Address to raise your ehiiraeter si ill hiuher. At the wime Ide jiir lime, lie iioi in loo f:reat a hasle to come I'or- Kdinli Vlll li I . eliiL'tlv remarUa the ^'rand stanzas on tiie CaMle and IJolyrond. ward. Take time and leisnre to inijirove and ilh whieli it eoneludes, all of these appear to niatuv<. your talent for. nil anv seeoni 1 pro- ive leeii w ritten hefore he left Ayrshire, diieiioii yoii i;i\e the world, yonr late us ;i jioet h Sever.d of them, indeed, were very early ]■ dueti II \er\ miieh ileiieinl Theri IS. ini ( The most important additions Hei'e. a liIos.- of iiovclly whieh tinit iir. lolllit. As Death anil Doetor llorntmok," the " Hritrs you \ery properly hint yourself, yon are not tlr of .\yr.' to the (■ ■ Ordinaiion." and the '•Addre» to lie .siirprix'd if, in your rnral retreat, von (inid. In this edition also, do iioi find \'iiir'>ell' >nrronnded wiih that When (Juilford i;nid i.iir Pilot, .stood," made ylaie of notice ami applause which here shone first appearance, on readinj; which. I>r. iiponyi HI man can lie a uooil poet w ithoni Ulair littered his pithy criticism. •• linrns's lieinu sumewliat of a ]ihilosoplu'r. iii niii>i polities always smell of the smithy. lay Ills acconiil. that any one who e.\pose>. II It ouuiit not to lie omitted, that our poet himself to pnlilic ohservat ion. will occasionally liL'slowed ..e (if the first-fruits of this edition meet with the attacks of illilhial censure, in the creetion of u decent tomhstone over the which ii is always host to overlook and despi.se. iiilherto iiesieeted remains of his unfortunate lie will lie inclined sometimes to court retreat, predecessor, Koliert Vernusson. in the Caii'.n- ami to disappear from ]iiildie view, lie will fate ch .rd. not allecl to shine alwavs. that he mav al The eveniiiji; liefore he (iiiitied Kdinlniriih. proper seasons come forth with more advanta,u;e the jioet addressed a letter to Dr. lilii which, taking'' a most respectful farew livelv t ami lie ill not tliii k h •If nil, and expressinj? in lively terms Ins sense were lilair> admonitions if neirlected if he lie not alwtiys prai>ed lihi Sue of nT.ititude for the kindness he h;id shown he tl Ills recurs to I lis own views of his Ami |iart ua.-i IicmiiI. uml >.arl was li>st in air. ow n piLst and future c litioii:---! have Hnrns had one oliject of worldly Inisiness in often felt the embarrassment of my singular h oiirnev ; namelv, to e.\amine the estate of situation. However the meteor-like novelty Dalswiiiton, near Dumfries, the pro]irietor of my aii]ieariiiice in tlie worhl miiiht attract notice, 1 know very well that my iiiimist t merit was far unequal to the task of preser\ini; that character wlien once the noveltv wtis over. lich had. on learniiiij; that the poet desitrneii o retiM'ii to I lis oriunnal callin exiiressed siniiii; » ish to htive liiiii for his tenant. I liavi lade up mind, tiuit aiiii.se, lind in that (iiiat licinj;, whose iiiiajte yoi lia]ipy tiljit you so n ilil,\ licar, tliat friind which I have fminil in you. V oil are now presume, to retire to a more private wa 1 Ik of lif^ You litive laid the foiimlati My fiialitiide is not selllsli dcsiiiii that I disdain it is not dud;.'ini; after the heels of (^n atiiess that is an odViiiiu jou disdain. It is a feeling of the saiuu kind with ni\ ilfvutinu. It. li." (Isl of (liosi; HI will roiidcr irlcc't to jiro- ,v(pur KLMiiuH, < of it UK niav At tiiu Willie to foiiii; lor- iniprovo aiiil sciMiiiij pro- lillc lis ,'l pOfl is. IK) iloiilti, .ills oil'. As voii arc not I'd real, von I wilh that li liu'ic shone jioet witlioiii lie niusi H lio I'XjiosCs occaHionally ral ci'iisiirf, and (k'spisc. ourt ivlrcai. w. lie will he may al iv advantage Ilk hiinsoll' -t'(l. " Siii'li st in air. I liiisiiu'ss in lio I'slale of ropriclor of Id d('sit,'nL'd expressed a lant. (Ire.s.se(l l.^rnl riiiiiK earl.N ; iii.v licai't ill liiiMa.v:e, that 1 Wllit'll JCIII I |.ia.v, tliat ■ic iiiia^e .yii'i iiaiiil ill .Villi. I (li.S(laiii It less tliat i.s of the .'iaiiiu LIFE UK UOUHltT IJUUNS. 71 OJIvXPTKi; VI. IliuidLi ti.iii:— opUtle to Ofcdi :— rutuni to .Miiiulilliiu:-fav«auiil)ly rcculvid liy tlie .\riiioai»; 'ituiiis to i;iliiilMii!.'li: West lll-liliiii(l tour; Hiirvicstoii Jmiriiey: StIrliiiK epiHiuiii: iiniiiovcil liy K'i"i''«iir of scinirv, iVr.: visit to Kaiiisay of Oili lei tyre ; visit to .\lr,s. liruiu of ('liitkiiiiiiiiiaii ; iwrtlierii tour: 'i'liMiioiitli ; lllalr-Atliole; IiiveriiesM (Jonloii t'astli'; .Vlierdet'ii :- Htoiielmveii, iVc.;— ilii lilea on liikiii^: till' iiii'iii of t;i I island ; Clarlndii: .lulnisiaiH Miikiiiih: ode to I'riliee ('lmrk'.s: (ivertiiriied in a loaili ,111,1 ciiilliicd til Ills ro fur six weeks; low spirits; .lean .\niio\ir awaiii ex|iiised to the repidiieluv* nf lier fiiiiiily, aiil tiiriud out nf doors: lliiiiis seeiires shelter for her; applies for a post on the t.xei»e, and is appollite.l settlement with Creeeli : lnan t" (lilliert. I lluiiiHity iiiiil fuiniiiiH (VrtdiiiKoii, liluil Kortli iiiiil Tiiy ii lift iil i: V;irriiw ami T\v I tn iiinnii; ii tuur 'I'liril' SinlliUlil lIllK-. Wliili Irviiii,', liUKiir, .\.vr, ami Diioii, .Niiuliii'ly ulnys. (In ilie mil of .May |17^7|, {{urns left Ivliii- inii'uli in eoinpany with Mr. I'oliert Ainslic,' son to .Mr. .Vinslio of Herrywoll, in Hurwiek- sliiiv, with the desiifii of pcrainlinlatin.i,' the pieliii'es(|iie seenerv of tliu soiillieni liorder. and in parlieiilar of visitini^ the localities iel"ln'atod Iiy the old niinslrels, id' whose works he was a passionate admirer: ami of whom, lpy the way, one of the last appears to have iieeii all liut a namesake of his own.- I Afterwards t'lerk to the Si^:iu't. Anion;; nther elian^es " whieh lleetiiiKtiiiie proiiiretli.'thisaiiiialile ^eiitleiiiaii, whu.se youthful gaiety niadeliini aeliosen assiieiate nf liiiins, is ( hielly known as the aiithnr of all Kssay mi the t'.viileiiees nf ('hristiaiiity, and snine devntiniial traets. | lie was linin in I'lid, wasadniitted Writer tn the Signet in 17S!1, and died .\pril 11. IS'tS.j •• Nieiill liiirn, siippo.sed to luivu lived towards the ilipse of the Kith |i7th?| eeiitliry, and to have heeii aninii^ the last of the itinerant ininsti'els. He is |said tn he] the aiithnr of " Leader llaiiKhs and Varrow. " a liathetie liallad, in the last ver.se of which his own name and desi<;iiati(i|i are introduced. Sin;; Ki'-!iiii,'tj>ii ami ( 'ir.vdc'iikiiuu I'S wlure lliiiniNliail ami' I'tiiniiiamliii^', \iiil Dr.VKiaii;;! , wi' tile iiiilk-wliiti' yuwrs, 'twi.\t Th iiil anil hrailrr "laiiiliii;;. Thuliir.l that lliis tliriiu;;li Ki-i'ilpatli trws, ami (Hi'iIswdihI liaiik^, ilk iimrrow, May . haiit ami niuti >»i'i't l.iadi-r llaii^'li>, ami tiniiny ll->\\nl^ iif Varrnu. Kut niiii>tivl i;iini lauiiiit asMiam lii.s Kiiif »liili.' lifu rmlun-tli. Til Mtt thu ilianni's nf this ap., thai tlrrtiiiH liine i.nu uitUi. Knr iiiuiiy II ijlaiii ^talllla in hard eusf, whiTo blythu folk kemi nao .lomw. With lliinii"! that il\v(!lt on Li'ailir »iile, anil Siiitts that ilwi'lt nn Varrnw. |l)r. R. Chamliers says; "In an nlil coUeetion of siiiiKs. ill tlieir nri-inal state of hallaiitx, T have seen Ills name printed as 'Buriie the violer,' which seems tn iiiiliiiiti- the instninieiit iipnii which he was in tlie Tliirt was lonij hefore I lie lime when iho>e fields of Scottish roinaiiee were lo he iiiaile aceessilile to the curiosity of citizens liy sta.i;e- eouehes; ami Ihinis and his friend pcrfornieil their tour on hoiseliack, the foiniev lieiiii:' mounted on a favourite mare, whom he had named .leiiny (ieddes, in honour of the zealous viran-o who threw her Ktool at the Dean of IMinliiirirh's head, on the *JUd of .Inly, Iti^", when the alteni|(t was made to introduce a Scottish Liturijy into the service of St. (liles's; the same trusty animal who.sc merits have licen recorded hy IJuriis, in ;i letter which must have heeii |iii/.zliim- to nmst modern Scotsmen, hefore the days of Dr. .lainieson.^ Uurns pas.scd from lvlinhur;^h to Herrx well, the residence (d' .Mr. .Vinslie'.s family, and visited successively Dunse, Coldstream, Kelso, I'Moor.s, and the ruins of I'o.xhuruh Castle, where a holly hush still marks the spot on which .lames 1 1. of .S'otland was killed hy the linrstin.u; of a cannon ; .ledhurgh, where he admired the "eharmiiiL; romantic situation of the town, with >;ardens and orchards inter- iniiii,ded ainoiii,'- the housesofaonci! inagnificenl cathedral (ahliey);" and was struck (as in the other towns of the .same district) with the practice nf aceoiniianyiii;,' liin rocitutiiais. I was told by an a^ed person at lOarlstoii, that there useil to he a iMirtrait nf him in Tliirlstane Castle, represeiitiiii; him as a dniice nld man, leading; a cow liy a straw- nipe.' I " '■ M> ;iiild ^'ail (;leyde o' a iiieere has Inichyalled up hill and down lirae, as tenth and hiriiie as a vera devil, wi' inc. It's true she's as poors a saii^- maker, and as hard's a kirk, and tijiper-taipers when she taks the Kate, like a lady's gentlewoii mi in a minuwae, or a hen on a liet girdle; but she's- a yauld poiitherin nirian for a' that. 'Wlien mice her riiiK- hanes and sjiavies, her eiuiks and cramps, are fairly siiii])led. sliu heels to, hoets to, and aye the hindmost hour the tightest," ttc. itc— Letter to Win. Nicol, Ili-Hi/itcs, p. -JS. [.See vol iv. p. 01. | IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-3) % 1.0 I.I U;|28 |2.5 ^ i^ 12.2 ut 2.0 1.8 1.25 U,,.6 r .4 6" ► p / ^% 71 Photographic Sciences Corpomtion 23 WIST MAIN STREET WEBSTER, N.Y. M5S0 (716)872-4S03 ^ K 72 LIFE OF KOBERT BURNS. appearance of "old nulc graiuk'ur," ami tlic idleness of decay ; Melrose, " that far- famed glorious ruin," Selkirk, Kttrick, and the Hraes of Yarrow. Having spent three weeks in this district, of whicJi it has been Justly said, that "every lield has its battle, and every rivulet its song," Hums passed th'i Border, and visited Alnwick, Warkworth, .Morpeth, Newcastle, Hexham, Wardrue, and Carlisle. lie then turned northward>, and rode by .\nnan and Dumfries to Dalswinton, where he examined .Mr. Miller's i)ro])erty, and was so nuu-h pleased with the .soil, and the terms on which the landlord was willing to grant him a lease, that he resolved to return again in the course of the summer. Dr. Currie has published soni'^ extracts from the journal whicii Burns kept during this ex- tursion, but they are mostly very trivial.' He was struck with the .superiority of soil, climate, and cultivation in Berwick and Koxburgh- shires, as compared with bis native county; and not a little surprised when he dine(I at a Farmers' Club at Kelso, with the aiiparcnt wealth of that order of men. " .\11 gentlemen, talking of high matters — each of them keeps a hunter from £30 to 1'50 value, and attends the Fox-hunting Club in the county." The farms in the west of Scotland are, to this day, very small for the most part, and the far, ,ers little distinguished from their labourers in their modes of life; the contrast was doubtless stronger, forty years ago, beiveen them and their brethren of the l.othians and the .Merse. The magistrates of, I edburiih ])re.scnted Burns with the freedom of their town: he was un- prepared for the compliment, and jealous of obligation.s, stept out of the room, and made an effort (of course an iueflectual one) to pay beforehand the landlord's bill for the "riddle of claret," which is usually presented on snch occasions in a Scotch burgh. The poet visited, in the course of his lour, Sir James Hall of Dunglas, author of the well- known Exsiii/ oil (lothir An-hihrtnrc, itc. ; Sir .Me.xander aiul l/idy Harriet Don (daughter to his patron, Lord (ilencairu), at Xewton- Don; Mr. Brydone, the author of Tniri/.i in Skihi; the amiable and learned Dr. Somerville of Jedburgh, the historian of (^ucen I [See the full Journal (if his "liordcr '\'i<\\\' in Appendix.) .\nne, &c. ; and, as usual, recorded in his Journal his impressions as to their maimers and characters. His reception was everywhere most Haltering. lie wrote no verses, as far as is known, during this tour, exceiit a hunmrous epistle to !::s bookseller, Creech, dated Selkirk, l:itli .May. In this he makes complinienlary allusions to .some of the men of lellcrs who were used to meet at breakfast in Cieeeh's apartments in those days — whence ihe name of Cri'irli'x li nv; and loiicbes, too briclly. on some of the scenery he had visited. I'p wiiiipliii;; slatily 'I'hitiI I've sjiril. .\licl IMt II sciiU'.-, on riystiil .led. .\ii(l Ktli'ick liiiiilxM iidw I'liai'iiiK I'lil. W liile tiiupcsts lilaw . IJurns returned to .Maucliline on the Mb of July. It is pleasing to imagine the delight with which lie innsl have been received by his family after the absence of six months, in which his fortunes and ]irospects bad under- gone .so wonderful a change. He left I hem comparatively unknown, his lenderesl feelings torn and wounded by ijie behaviour of the .Vrinours, and .'^o miseralily poor, that he had been for some weeks obliged lo skulk fnnn the sheritr's oliicers, to avoid the payment of a ]ialtry debt. He returned, his pdclical fame established, the wliole counlry riiigiiiu' with his praises, from a cajiital in which he was known to have formed the wniidcr and delight of till jiolitc and the learned; if mil rich, yel with more money already lliaii any of his kindred had ever lioiied to see him possc'^s, and with prospects of future jiatronage and permanent elevalion in the scale of society, whicii might have da/./lcd steadier eyes than those of nialerual and fraternal alleclion. The ](roiiliel had at last honour in his own counlry: but tlie haughty sjiirit that had ])reserved its balance in Ivlinbiirgh, was not likely lo lose it at .Mauchline; and we hav"; him willing from Xhconlil clnii lilijijin' on Ihe iMli of. Inly, ill terms as slroiigly exjiressive as any liial ever came from his pen. of that ji'alous pride which formed the groundwork (diiis characler; that dark suspiciousness of I'nrtune. which the sul)se(|ueiit course of bis history too well Justi- fied; that nervous intolerance of condescension, and consuniinale scorn of meanness, which at- tended him through life, ami made I he .-iiuly hIb'E UF liOlJKHT BUKN'S. "3 iif his >iioi-ics, tor whidi niiUire had >,'iveii liiin siicli txinKirilinary (iiuilifications, tlie source nt'inon; iiain lliaii was ever (.•oimtfrlialamxMl In- tlu'cx(inisitet'aiiai'it.,vl'orcn.j()yinent wit li which lie was also endowed. Tliere are few of lii.s loiters ill which more of" the dark places of his si)irit come to liuht: — " I never, my friend, thouitht mankind capalilc of anythinir very Mcncrous; liut the ^tateliness of the iiatricians of Ivlinlmruh. and the servility of my plelieian lirethrcii (who. i>erhai>s, formerly eyed me askance), since 1 returneil iiome, have nearly iiiit nic out of conceit, altoifetiier with my s|iccies, 1 have houirht a pocket .Milton, which I carry jierpctually aliont me. in order to sillily the .sentiments, the dauntless mat;- iianimily, llie intrejiid unyieldini; in(le]iend- ence. the desi)erate darimr, and noldc deliancc of harliip. in that sreat iiersonaufc — Satan. . . The many ties of aciiuaintance and j'ricndslii]! I have, or think I have, in life, I have felt alonij the lines, and, d n tiiem, they are almost all of them of such frail tex- ture, that 1 am sure they would not stand the breath of the least adverse hree/.c of fortune. " ' .\niom; those who, havinj? formerly "cyetl him askance," now ai)|ieared suHiciciitly ready to court his society, were the family of .lean .\rmour. Hnrns'.s aflei'tion for this lieautifiil youn;i; woman had outlived his resentment of her comidiance with her father's commands in the jirccedinu; summer; and from the time of this rccdiiciliation, it is prohahlc he always looked forward to a permanent union with the mother of his children. Hums at least fancied himself to he Inisy with serious plans for his future estahlishment; and was very naturally disposed to avail liiin- self, as far as he could, of the opportiiniti-js of travel and observation, wiiich an interval of leisure, destined probably to be a short one, luijrht jiresent. Moreover, In .spite of liis jllooiny lanituas^e, a specimen of which lia.s just been (|uoted, we. are not to doubt tliat he derived much i)leasure from witnessimc the extensive jiopularity of jiis writinsjjs, ami from the Hatterins? homaije he was sure to receive in his own person in the various dis- tricts of his native country; nor can any one wonder, that after the state of lii,u:h excite- ment in which he had spent tlic winter and ' ll.cttcr to William .Mcol, .Iiniu 18, 1V87.1 sprinir, lie, fond as he was of his family, and calmer to make them partakers in all his irood fortune, sliouhl have, just at this time, found himself incapable of sittinu; down eontente;'.ly for any considerable period together in so humble and (piiet a circle as that of Mossiriel. His ajjpetite for wandering appears to have Iteen only sharpened by his Horder excursion. After remainiiiLr a few days at lionie, he re- turned to Kdinl)iiru;li, and thence he jiroceeded on anotlier short tour, by way of Stirlintf, to Inverary, and so back a.i:;aiii, by Dumbarton and (ilas^ow, to .Mauchline.- Of this second excursion, no journal ha.s been discovered ; nor do the extracts from his correspondence, printed by Dr. Currie, ai)pear to be worthy of much notice. In one, he briefly describes i^the West lliirhlands as a country "where .savai,'e streams tumble over savage mountains, thinly overs])read with savage flocks, which starvingly sup|iort as .savage inhabitants;" and in another, he gives an account of .leniiy igrams to he, of all his Avritings. the lea>i worthy of his talents. Those which he coni- po.sed in the course of his tour, on Itcing refused admittance to sec the iron-works ai (.'arron, and on finding himself ill-sorved at the inn at Inverary, in conscciuence of the Duke of .Vrgyle's having a large party at the Castle, form no exceptions to the rule. He had never, we may suppose, met with the famous recipe of the .lelly-l)ag Clult; and was addicted to beginning with the jjoint. The young ladies of IIarvie>t(Ui were, ac- cording to Dr. Currie, surprised with th<' calm manner in which Murns contemplated tiieir fine scenery on Devon-water; and the doctor enters into a little dissertation on the sul>jcct, showing, that a man of liurns's lively imagination, uiight jirohatily have formed anticipations which the i-ealities of the ])rosiiect might rather disap|)oint. This is jMissihle enough ; hut I suppose few will take it for granted that Hums surveyed any scenes cith.'r of heauty or of grandeur without emo- tion, merely hecau.se he did not choose to he ecstatic for the benefit of a conipany of young hulies. lie was indeed very impatient of ail uiiisode in tlie noitlierii tour of .Viigiist: wliile tlie second ten-days' visit to t'laeliiiianiiaiisliire is made to talve place iiniiiedlately liefore tlie iiortlierii tmir instead of in the month of Oetolier follow inc. 'I'lie proper order will lie seen from the following Lum- inary:— Burns set out for the north in company with Xicol on 25111 August, ITsT. They arrived at .'eranee. 1 was, how- ever, somewiiat, ahirmed aliout tiie efleet of iiis now eomparatively sedentary and liixurions life, wlicn he eonfesscd to me. the first, niulit, lie spent, in my house after iiis winier's cam- |iai,i?n in town, that lie hail lieen miieli dis- inriied when in l)ey a iialiiitation at liis heart, wliieh, he said, was a complaint to wiiieli he iiad of late become suliject. •' In the course of the same season I was led liy curiosity to attend for an hour or two a masonic Iodide in .Mauchline, where iiuriLs presided. Ho had oeeasion to make some ^liort unpremeditated c(unidiments to dillerent iudividiials, from whom he had no riirlit to cNpeet a visit, and everytliinii he said was happily conceived, and forciMy as well as lluently e.vpressed. His maniu'r of s])eakinL;- in pid)lie had evidently the marks of some practice in e.xtenipore elocution. " ' In .\iif;ust |(»ctolierl,'-' Burns revisited .'^tir- liunshire, in eoni]iany with Dr. .\tlair. of llarrowjtatc, and remained ten (hiy^^ at llar- vicston. He was received with ]iartieular kindness at Oehteriyiv. on the Teiili. l>y .Mr. 1 It was at this time, 1 lidicvc. tlmt liiirns iiiditcil ii lively I'lijiy of verses, which have never yet (\>i',t) lieeu priTiteil, and which I tlml iiitrniliieeil with the f.illnwii!;! nieinoraniliiin, in a small cnllectinii of MSS., sent liy the poet to l.inly H, Don, • Mr. Chalmers, a Kentleman in Ayrshire, a iiiutieuhir frieml of mine, asked me to write a imetical epistle to a yoiinj; lady his ilaleinea, I had seen her, liut was scarcely acquainted with her. and wrote as fol- lows:" M A II \ M , Wi' liriiH ni'»- liiMiilricl Aiitt fki' ;i Iir;i\v new lin-rlian, My iV'u:isus I'm Kot astriile. Anil up I'iiniiissus ipccliiir; WliilcH own? a Imsti wi' dnwiiwani i-ni>!i, Tlioiliiiti'd liea-tie Ftaiiinii'is; Thi'ii u|> 111' Kits, and utriie M'tv, Kcirnakeo' Willi,: Chithiu i-». I dinilit iia, lass, lliat wed kenned n.iiiii- May enst a pair "' ^plu^ll(■s; I am nan straiiKiT te your fame, Ner his warui-uriifd wislies. ViMir licinnic fair sae iiiild and swiit. Mis lioiiest lu'art I'liaiuours, .Anil faitli yell no lie Inst a wliit. Till)' waiiid nil iri»iV fVm/iiii ■■«. Iln,' i.i'O liri.ll.^ l„.t..' o. ar M.i|.i.l ii|>fUt jHeu the rest of the |ioein in its |jlaee in this edition, 2 [See note ahove p 7.'<. 1 I Itamsay (a frieml of lilai'klock), whose lieauti- fiil retreat he enthiisiastieally admireil. His host was amonir the last of that old Scottish line of i,atinists, whieli Ite^an with IJuelianan, and, I fear, may bo said to have ended with (ireiiory, .Mr. liamsay, amonu; other eecen- , tricitics. had sprinkled the walls of his house ' with i.atin inseriiitions. some of tliem hiehly eleirant ; and those particularly interested IJiirns, who asked and obtained copies and I translations id' them. This amiable man I (whose manners and residence were not, f take I ii. out of the novelist's reeolleetion when he I painted Monkbarns) was deeply reiul in Scoi- ! tishanti<|iiities. and theauthorof some learned essays on the older poetry of his country. His eonver.sation must have delitrlited any man of ! talents; and Hums and lie were mittually j charmed with each other, Itamsay advised I him slronuly to turn his attention to the roniantic drama, and ]iroposed the "(leiiile ."shepherd " as a model : he also urwd him to write '•Seotiisli (ieori^ics," ob.serviiij;', that Thomson had by no means e.xliaustcd that field. lie appears to have relished both hints. '•Hut." says .Mr. 1!., •' to have e.xcented either j plan, steadiness and abstraction from company I were wantinjr. " I " I have been in the comiiany of many men , of lyenius (writes .Mr. h'amsay), .some of them ; i)()ets; but 1 never witnessed sueii fla.shes of intellectual brightness as from him, the im- pulse of the moment, sparks of celestial fire. I never was more delighted, therefore, than with his company two days Irlc-a-fi'fc. In a mi.\ed company I should have made little of him ; for, to use a gamester's phra.se, he did not know when to play ofV and when to play on, •' When I iLskcd him wliotlier the Kdinburgli literati had mendod his jjoems by their criti- cisms — -Sir.' said he. 'those gentlemen remind mc of some spinsters in my country, wlio spin their thread so fine, that it is neither fit for weft nor woof." .Vt Claekmannan Tower, the poet's Jaeobit- ism i)roeureil him a hearty welcome from the ancient lady of the place, who gloried in con- sidering herself as a lineal descendant of K'obert Uruce. She bestowed on Hums what knight- hood the touch of the hero's sword could con- fer; delighted liim by giving as her toast after 78 LIFE OF l{OHKirr jn'ltNS. II iliniicr, J/on/ii iinms ' — ■• uwav straiiirersi " uiiil when lie woiilil have kissed her hand at i>art- in.ir, insisted on a warmer sahite, sayin.ir. "What ails liiee at my lips, K'oImm?" At l)iinf> line the jioct lielrayed deeji emotion, Dr. Adair tells us, on seein.i; the j:rave of the Hruec; hut passin,' to another mood on cnler- ins; the ailjoinimt ehiin-h, he mounted the pulpit, anil addressed hiseomjianions. who had, at his desire, aseended the r ill tii •■■<>< ml, in a jiarody of the rrlmh' which he had himself uiuleriTone some time before at Mauehline. From J)unferndine. the ]ioet crossed the Frith of Forth to Fdininiruh ; and forthwith set out vith his frieml Nieol on a more ex- tensive tour than he liaii as yet iniderlakeii, or was ever atjain to undertake.- Some frai;- ments of his journal have recently iieen dis- eovered. ami are now in my hands; so that I m:iy hope to add some particulars to the iiecount of Dr. Curric. The travellers hired a past-ehaisc for their expedition — the iliirh School master beinir, ])rol)al)ly, no very skilful C(|uestrian. "Auirusi -i.-.th. 1787.— This day.' says iJurns, " I leave Jvlintmrgh for a tour, in comiiany with my t^ood friend Mr. Micol, w'.iose oriirinality of humour promises me much entertainment. — Llii/t//iijow — A fertile iiniiroved country is West Lntl'ian. The more eleiranec and luxury anujii^ the fanners, 1 alwiiy.s ob.scrvc, in ecpuil proportion, the rude- ness and stupidity of the I'uasantry. This remark 1 liave made all over the J,othians, Mcr.sc, Ifoxhurgh. &c. ; and for this, anioiif^ other rea.sons, I think that a nuin of romantic taste, 'a man of feelinjr,' will be better ])Ieased with the poverty, but intelliKcnt minds, of the peasantry of .Vyrshire (peasantry they are all below the justice of jioacc), than the opu- lence of a club of Merse farmers, when he, at the same time, considers the Vandalism of their ploujrli-folks, &e. I carry this idea so far, that an unindosed, unimproved country, is to me actually more airrceable as a pros])cct, than a country cultivated like a irarden." It was hardly to be expected that liobert Uurns should have estimated the wealth of 1 A slieplici'tl's cry when strnnse slieep niiuelu in : tl'.'- Mock [here iilliiilins; of course to the reiuiiiiijj l (lynastyl. •-' (See note ;i, II. 7:?.l nations entirely on llie principles of a political economist. <»f l,inlithf;ow, he says, "the town carriis the a])pearance of rude, decayed, idle firandenr — charmingly rural retired situation — the old lioyal Talacc a tolerably tine, but melanclndy ruin — sweetly situated by the brink of ii loch. .Shown the ro;-tunililiii^' lluuils •■'In the lust wonls of Ihuns s note iilxive (luotiil. he iierhaim u'huices at a lieautiful trait of cihl liailiniii-. where he desiribes liruie s .suldiers as (|dwilii!« riiund liini at tlie cduelusiuii of cme of his hard-fought day.s, witli as much curio.sity as if they had nevi r Been his person hefoie. .sic «l^rlIs s|ak they cif ttii'ir kiuf;; Ami f.ir Ills liii- uinlirlukiiit; Firliyit mill .viTuit liiin fur to soi'. Tlmt witli liiin iiy wiis \v(Oi/v/(/ — Hreakfast, with Dr. Smart — Neil (low i)Iays; ii sl-ort. stoiit- liiiilt, llidiland tij,'iire, with his Ki"ayi>h liair .-slied on liis lionest social lirow-an interestinii faee. marked stronn' sense, kind o])eiiheavled- iiess, mi.\ed with unmistriistinu' simplieity — visit his liouse — .Marnaret (Jow. — Ffltln/i — riile lip Tiimiml river to Mlair. I'aseallv, a lieMiilifut romantic nest — wild s;raiideiir of the pass of Killieerankic — visit the iralhint Lord Dinidee's >tone. ' lUnlr --snji with the Dueiiess lasy and happy, from the manners of that family — eonlirmed in my unod o])inion of my friend Walker. — Sulin-ilini — visit the si'enes loinl Blair— line, lint sitoilt with had taste." I'rofessor Walker, who, as Ave lii'vc .seen, formed Hnrns's aeiinaintanee in Kdinltnr,;:li, throuirh Mlaekhn'k. was at this period tutor in the family of .\lhole, a. d from him the follow- iiiu; imriicnlars of Biirns's reeeption at the seat of his nolile patron aiv derived. " I had often, like others, e.xpi'rieneed the ]ileasures which arise from the sulilime or elegant landscape, hut I never saw those feelinirs so inten.sc iis in IJurns. When we reaidied a rustic hut on the river Tilt, where it is overhnnir liy a woody preciiiice. from which there is a nolile water- fill, he threw himself on the heathy seat, and i^ave himself u]i to a temler, ahstracted. ami volu]iliious enthusiasm of imagination. It was with much dilliculty 1 prevailed cm him to ipiit this sjiot. ami lo he introduced in jiroper time to supper. '■ He .seemed at once to jierccivc and to ap- preciate what was due to the company ami to ' It is unt true that this stone marks the spot where IMmkIi'c rceeiveil his (leath-wouiid. liimself, and never to for:;et a proper respect for the separate species of di^'iiity lielonifim; to each, lie did not arrogate conversation; hut when led into it. lie spoke with ea^e. pro- priety, and manliness. Jle tried to exert liis ahilities. because he knew it was ability alone gave him a title to he there. The dnke's fine young family attracted much of hisathniratioii; lie drank their healths as hoiieM men ninl Ikhuiji liissis, an idea which was much a]iplauded by the comiiany. and with which he has very felicitou-ily closed his jioem. " Ne.xt day 1 took ii ride with him through some of the nmst rennirkalile jiarts of that neighbourhood, and was highly gratified by his conversation. As a s]iecimcn of his hap])iness of concejition. and strength of c.\]iression, I will mention a remark which he made on his fellow-traveller, who was walking at the time a few jiaces before us. lie was a man of a roliust, but clumsy person ; and, while IJurns was expressing to luc the value he entertained for him. on account of his vi'.;orous talents, although they were clouded at limes by coarse- ness of manners; 'in short.' he ailded, "his mind is like his body, he has a confounded strong in-knee"d sort of a soul." [Walker in his JJ/<' n/ Jiiinix remarks; — "The ill-regulated temjier and manners of .Mr. Nicol jirevented IJurns from introducing him to scenes where delicacy and self-denial were .so much recpiired. He was therefore left at the inns, while the poet was regaling in the higher circles: an indignity which his proud and untracfablc spirit couhl with dilti- culty brook. At Atholc liouse his impatience was sus))emled by engaging him in his favour- iio amusement of angling. '] '■.Much attention was jiaid to IJurib both before and after the duke's return, of which he was perfectly .sensible, without being vain; and at his departure 1 reeommendcd to him. as the most approjiriate return he could make, to write some descri]>tive verses on any of the scenes with which he had been so much de- lighted. After leaving Blair, he. by the duke's advice, visited the Kails of Hriiar; and in a few days I received a letter from Inverness with the verses inelo.sed. " '- - The liaiiks of the liruar, wliose naked condition ealleil fortli ''the humble jiotltion," to whieli Mr. Walker tlni.s refers, liave, shiee those days, been LIFE OK JtOlJKlM" nilJNS. At, JUair, IIiuiin (irsi met witli .Mr. (iniliaiii i>( Fiiitrv, ii f;'!"tli^''>'i>" to whoso kimlness ho was aflorwaids iiitlobtod on more tliaii oii'j iiiilMirtaiil ocoasioii; and .Mr. Walker o.\]iro.>l imiirolialdy have been in- (iueed to bestow that eonsideration on the eiainis of the poet, whieh, in the aliseneo of any personal ae(|uaintanee, Hurns's works cui.u:ht to have rceeivod at ills iiands. From iJlair, Burns passed "many miles throujih a wild eountry, anioni; elifls ;::ray with eteriuii snows, and irloomy savage jziens, till he ero.sscd S]iey ; and went down the stream throuffli Strathspey (so famous in Seottish musle), Hadenoeh, &e., to (Jrant Castle, where he si)ent half a day with Sir James (irant; erossed the eountry to Fort (ieorf,'e, but ealled by the way at Cawdor, the ancient .scat of Afaebeth, where he saw the identieal bed in whieh, friii/l/luii shi/k. Kini^ Dnnean was murdered; lastly, from ForttieorKo to [nver- nes.s."» I'rom Inverness, Burns wont alonu; the .Moray Fritii to Foehabei-s, lakin.i; Cullodcn .Muirand lirodie House in Jiis way.- wt'll larud for, and the river in Ha jiruseiit statu loiild luive no prete-xt for tlio i)rayer~- J.ct lofty firs, 1111(1 ;ib1ics couI, my lowly liiinks o'ur-si.ri'ml, .\ii(l view, doip-ljumliiiK in tliu inxil, tlicir sliiidows' w;iti'ry lii'd ; l.vt fnigriuit bilks, in wu(«lliiiie» dri'st, my ora;,'j;y ilifTs iiclorn. Ami fur the little toiiBi-tcrii iiest, tlie ulosc-cmlniHeriiit,- tliuni. 1 Letter to tiilbert 13urn.s, Eilinliurgli, ITtli Due. 1V37. - (Extract frorii Jminial.)— Thursday, Caiiiu ovur CuUodun Miiir rufluutioii on tliu fluid of battle— breakfast at Kilriiiuk |tliu local pidnuiiuiationof Kilra- vock|--oId Afrs. Rosu— sturliii;; sense, warm liuait, Ktront; pa.ssioii, honest iiride— all to an unconiiiioii dejtree - a true chieftain's wife— daiishterof C'luphanu —.Mrs. Rose, jun., a little milder than the mother, [icrhaps owind to her beinp .vonnuer- two yoiuiR ••Cross Spey to Foelialicrs — fine palace. worthy of the noble, the pidite, and yeneroii» pro|iriotor. — Tho iluke nuikes me hap]iier than over fjreat man did; nonle. prin<-el\. yet mild, eondeseemlinjr, and alliili'o- ua\ and kind. The dnehoss ehannin>r, witt\. kind, and sensible — (iod bless them." Burns, who had been much noticed by llii> noble family when in '•'.dinburuh, haiipened to present himself at (Jordon Castle just at the dinner hour, and being invited to lake his ]d,ice at tho table, did so, without for a moment adverting to the eircumstain'o that his iravelling com|ianion had been left alone at the inn. in the adjacent villaue. (»n re- nuMubering this soon after dinner, ho begged to be allowed to rejoin iiis friend; and the Duke of (iordon, who now for the lirst tinii' learned that he was not journeying alone, immediately pr< ;" od to send an Invitation in .Mr. Nicid to come to the castle. His grace'.- messenger found the haughty sehoolma>tcr striding up and down before the inn-door in a sl;ite of high wrath and indignation, al j what he I'onsiderod Burns's neglect, and no I apologies eould soften his mood. He had already ordered horses, and the poet findini; that he must chose between the ducal einle and his irritable associate, at once left (iordon Castle, and rejiaired to the inn; whence Nicol and he, in silence and mutual di.-]deasnre. pursued their j(.uriiey along tho coast of the .Moray Frith. This incident may servo to suggest some of the annoyance- to which persons moving, like our ]poet, on the de- batable land between two ditrerent ranks of society, must over bo subjected. To play the lion under sueh circumstances, must be difli- etilt at tho best; but a delicate bnsine-s in's visit at (loriion Castle "was not only," siys Mr. Walker, "a mortifying (lisappoint- nient. but in nil probability a serious mislor- (iine; as a longer stay amon;^ persons of sueh inlluenee minl't '"iive bc.iiot a permanent inli- luiu'V, and on their parts, an aetive eoneern for his future ailvancemenl."' Hut this tiuieiies (in a subject which we eannot at present pause III consider. A (cw days after leaviii'.;' Fochabers. 15urn> tran>niil(ed to (Jordoii Castle his ackiiowledn'- uiciii of the hospitality he had received from ilic Miible family, in the stanzas - .'Streams lliat i;liilc in oiUiit plains. Never bound liy winter's eliains. iVe. TJic duchess, on hearing; them read, said she supposed they were Dr. Ueattie's, and on learninu; w'lose they really were, e.xpressed lier wish tiial Hums inid celebrated Cordon Cattle in his own dialect. The verses are anion.n' the jioorest of his productions. I'lirsuini!: his journey alonu; the coast, the poet visited successively Nairn, Forres. Aber- deen, and Stonehaven, where one of his relations, .lames Hurne.ss, writer in .Montrose, met him by appointnoMit, and coniUicted him into the circle of his paternal kimlred, amonj;- wh:iin lie spent two or three days. When Win. Hurness, his father, .abandoned his native district, never to revisit it. he, a.s lie used to tell his children, took a sorrowful farewell of his brother on the summit of the last, liill I'rdiii which the roof of their lowly home could l»e dcseried ; and the old man ever after kept up an afl'eetionatc eorresjiondeiicc with his family. It fell to the poet's lot. as we have seen, to eommunicate his father's last illness and death to the Kincardineshire kindred ; and of ids subsecpicnt correspondence with Air. .lames liurne.ss, some specimens have already been given, by the favour of his son. Burns now formed a personal ac(iuaiiitance with these fjood jicople ; and in a letter to his brother (iilbert, wc lind him describint? them in terms which show the lively interest he took in all their concerns. 1 -Morison, vol. i. j). Ixx.v. "The re>t of my siages," says he, "are not worth rehearsini];; warnuw I was from < Asian's (•(Uintry, where I had seen his irrave, what cared I for (isliiiiij-towns and fertile carses?" ile arrived once more in Kdinbur!;li, on the Itilh of Seiiteiiiber, liaviiii^ travelled about six hundred miles in two-aml-tweiily days — greatly e.xtended his acfiuaintaiice with his own country, and visited some of its most classical scenery — ob.servcd .somethiiii;' of 1 1 ii;h- land manners, which jiiust have been as in- teresting as they were novel to him— and strengthened considera4)ly among the sturdy .laeobites of the North those p(ditical opinions which he at this period avowed. Of the few iioeins composed during this Highland tour, we have already mentioned two or three. While standing by the Fall of Fyers, near Loch Ness, lie wrote with his jiencil the vigorous couplets — .Viiiont; tlie heathy hills and ra(;;.'ed Wdnd.-. 'I'lie loarinf; Fjei's iiinirs his niussy HimkIs, Ac. When at Su- William Murraj'sof Oehtertyre, he celebrated .Miss .Murray of Liutrose, com- monly called "The Flower of Strathmore." in the song — lllytlie, lilytlie, and merry was she. iiiiirlnur Hlythe was she Imt and lieii, Ac. iu kitchi'u and And the verses, "On Searing some Wat.r Fowl on Loeh-Turit,"- were eompo.sed while under the same roof. These last, except, perhaps, " Hrnar Water." are the best that he added to his collection during the wanderings of the summer.-' I5ut in liiirns's suUseipient pro- ductions we (ind many traces of the ! More thiin luilt' of tlio iiiti-rvfiiim,' nionilis ii|>|ifan'il m .March 17^x, wo find no fiwc Kiliiiliur;;!!, wliuro Uuriis IoimmI, llian live M>nu>* l»v IJiirns; two timt Imvc Iicimi woro >iPL'nl in or rancii'ii. tlial liis pri'siiice wan nece-iwirv I'or the hati-taflory I'.niiplolion of liis atlliirs wilii tlic hooJiscllcrs. It si'i'nis to lie cli'ar iMioimli, tlmt one Krwit olijci-t w; lOV ial intiinaliN in lilt' I'a) tlic ital. socii'ly o "or wi { his ill- witiioiil llif aniiiMii icnl of a little roinanee to fill tip wliat vaeani hour>* they left him. lie formed, alioiil lliis time, liisuequaintanee willi ladv. (li>lin,mii-lie«l. I lieiieve. tor taste and IliiriiH had lieen, from hin vtnith upwarils, an e to wliom ho adtlre>sed entlinsiastie lover of the (dd m,"fdrclMy and talents, as well as for personal lieaiity, and the ]iiirity id' wlio>e eharaeter was always almvc hiis[)ieion — the Kim tlic Hong, Clarliuln, mistress of my Roiil, At.. and u series of prose ejiistles, whieli have lieen sejiarately puldislied, and whieli. if they lu-e- sent more instanees (d' lionil>astie lanu'nafic and fnlsonie sentiment thaneonld he prodiieeil from all his writings hesides, eontain also, it must 1)C aeknowledifod, jmssaires of deep and inddc feelinu', whieli no one Imt IJiirns eonld have iienned. One sentenee, as stronniy illustrative of the poet's eharaeter, I may venture to transerihe: " I'eojile of nice sensi- hility and generous minds have a eertain intrinsic diirnity, which fires lit licing tritled with, or lowered, or crin ton rlosilj/ iiji- jiroiirliii/. " ' M this time the jiuMieation called .Folin- ;;on's Miistioii nf Sroll'iKh Simijr was jioim; on in Kdinl)urears to liave early jirevailed on Hums to irive him his assistance in thearran.iicmenl of his materials. Tliouj^h "(irecn Grow the Ifa.shes" is tlie only soiiji, entirely his, vldch appears in the first volume, puliHshed in l?.*^?, mai'> of the old l)ulliids included in that volume hear traces of his hand ;•' hut ii. the second volume, which ' It is ))i<)]icr to note, tlmt tlie '• Letters toClaiinilii" were printeil li.v one wlio had no riKlit to do so, ami tliiit tlie Court of .Session (.'laiitiMl an interdict u^'aiiist ttieir cireulation. |An aiitlioriiced edltiuii anan^rcd and edited liy I'laiinda's grandson, W. ('. .M'Leliusc, was puldislied in ls4;i. Tlicy aiipear in the iiresont edition in their pioiier jilacc. | 2 ITlie true title is the Scatx Mimienl Mnscinn, in .Six Vidumes, eoiisi.stiiiK of Six Hundred .Scots Soii^s, wit'- iirojier basses for the Tianoforte, Ac.; liy .lames Johnson. I ' [This is incorrect, for lii.s song " Young I'etifiy already mentioned,' and tiiree far heller than them. vi/. : — "Tlieiiiel .Meii/.ies' honiiv .Mar\, hat K>''t>>'l Ivric, Farewell, ye dungeons daik and stiiuig, The wretch s destiny, Maeiiliel'Moii H time will nut lie liiiig On yonder gallows tree; liolh of which performances liopeak the re impres>i(Uis i ceni if his lliiihland visit ; and, histlv. Whistle and I' •me to Von, in\ music of his col iiiilrv; hut lie now >lndied lioil su hjecls Willi far licltcr o|iporlnnitii appliai mid have eominandcd pri ices than I >lv: and it is from this lime that inst date his ,'imliition to transmit his own poetry to imsteriiy, in eternal association with those cxipiisile airs which hail hilhcrlo. ill far loo many iii>ianccs, hccii niarric(l lo verses ilial did not deserve lo he immortal. Ii is will known, that from this lime linriis composed very few pieces hut sonu's; ami whether we onirlit or fniirht not to rcfrret that such was the case, must (le|ieiid on the estimate we m;ike of his sonirs as compared with his oilier |ioems; a ]ioint on wliiidi critics are to this hour divided, and cm wliiidi their descendants are not very likely lo atrrec. Mr. Walker, who is (uie of those that laineiii liurns's comparative dereliction of the sjieeies of composition which he most cultivated 'u the early days of !iis insiiiralion. sutrirests very sensilily, tli.it if IJurns had not taken to sons;- writiiiff, he would jiridialdy have written little or iiothinir, amiilst the various temidatioiis to eom]ianyaiid .say nothinji' id" the active duties of life in whidi he was at leiiuth ahout to he eniraued. blooms our bonniest lass," written on Miss I'eygv Kennec'y, the iiiifortunatc daughter of a 'andeil liroiirietor in Carrick, to whom liiirns was intrMilneed while she was on a visit to a friend in .Maiichline in ITS.'i, follows inimedlately after "(iiein (liuw the Hashes."! * ''('larimla, " and " How jileasant the banks of the clear winding Devon." 5 {There were more songs than tliese by linrns in .lohnsiin's second volume, but many of them were unacknowledged. 1 J.irK i>(>ii !• lullcr thiiii Miimv .Man,' ml Hlriiiijr, uk the rcrciil mil, liiNlIx. 1, iii\ l,ii|."' iilnvanU. :iii 'sirclsy Mini Kliiiiicil liiitli tuiiitii-s iiiiil J ('iiiiiiniiiiili'il lime thai wr i>iiiil Ills own al assiirialiiiii liail liilliri'tii. II niarriril in Ih! iiiiiiiiirtal. lis )inu> liiirns t sDiin's; anil iKil to rc'Liri'i l('|ieii(l nil till' :■< as cDiniiari'il >iiit. on wliji'h , anil (III wliii'li liki'l.v ti> auii'i'. so that iaiiR'iit (if tlie spoi'los , I'liltivatL'il Ml . siisrtfosts vei'v takoii to smi!;-- c written liltli' ti'iiiptatidiis III tiiiw anil lionre- notiiiiiu' (if tlio ) was at k'lmtli on Miss IVyirv rr (pf It 'aiidiil s WHS intriiiliii Til ill Maiic'lilinu in lirt'cii (iriiw llir tlu' liaiiks (if tilt' (.'SO liy Itniiis ill y (if tlifin wi'ir I'liiins wan jircsi'iit, on tlio ;Ust nf l)coc'mi)i;r, willidiil, cnjuvinont ; the iitlier liiis iifitliur wisli iJiniKT to (('li'liiali! tlio liiillidav of llie iloiiiinalo Cliai'lcs Kdward Stuart, .id jiro- at a nor foar. One iniirospoi'iiiionof this niaitniru'onl liypo- llio (ii'casion an mlo, part of wliioii ciioiidriaoisni may lio sntlioiont Tl loso liavo In. I iirrif has in-csorvo d. Tho SI H'ciinon wil iiii; iniliiro any ro,i,'iot that tho roniaindor uf ilic iiioi'o has liooii siipprossod. It appoars 'u lie a iiiiiiilhiii',' rhapsody far, far dill'i'i'i'iit iiiilood IVoiii Iho '•('hovalior's l.ainont," wliii'h I ho pilot oiiinposod soiue nioiilhs afterwards, wiili |inilialil\ tlio titlio of tho ollnrt. wliilo ijilinu: aloiio '• tlirnirzh a traot of inolain'holy iiiiiirs lii'iwoon (iallowayund Ayrshiro, it lioiiiu,' Sill II lay." for .-i.\ wcoks of the tinio that Miiriis spout (his yoar in Kdinlmriili. ho was oonlincd to j Iii> riiiini, in oonsoipionoo of an ovortiirn in a liaiknoy-oiiaoh. " lioro I am," ho writos, j ••iindor the oare of a, suri^oon, with a liniisod lieoii si.\ horrilil liiiili oxioiidod on a oushioii, and tho tints of iiiv iiiiiid vyiiit; with tho livid Imrrors pre- rt'iliiii;amiiliii.u;iil ihiindor-storm. .\ dniiikoii I'ipai'hniaii was tho oaiiso of tho first, and iiii'ipiiiparalily tho linhtosi ovil ; misfnrtiino, liiidily oonstitntiiin, lioll, and mysolf, liavu I'nniiod a '/(("(/;•/(/(/< iil/iinirr to i;iiaraiiloe tho iillior. I have taken tmith and nail to tho l5ililo, and liavo fiul throiiLrh the live iiooks of Miisos, and half-way in .loshiia. It is roally a yliirioiis book. I sent for my bookliinder Ill-day, and ordorod him to f,'ot an 8vii Uildo ill >iiools, tho liost paper and ]iriiit in town, and liiiid it with all the eleiianee of his orafl."'-' In aiiolhor letter, wliioh opens uaily eiimmh, we find him revoriiiin' to the sniiio provaiiimjc darkness of ninod. " I oan'l say 1 am allo- i;oilier at my o.iso when I see anywhere in my paththat ineaiAiv, sipialid, faiiiiiio-faeod speotre, I'overty, attoiulod, as ho always is, by iron- fi>lod tl]iiirossioii and looriiin' (.'niitemiit. 15iit 1 have sturdily withstood his biid'etinus many a hard-laboured day, and still my motto is, I DAKi':, .My worst enemy is iiml- iih'iik . Tiioro are just twooroaturos that 1 would envy — a horse in his wild state traversing the for- ests of .\sia, or an oyster on some of ilic desert shores of i'^iirope. The one has not a wish •[•''ii'iio printed part of the .seciinil gection mily, liilt tin.' wlidU' iiile lias since lieeii iiftoiier tliaii oiue piiiitiil ill it.s I'litirety. Sue " Uirtliilay (kle fur yist Doe. I787."J •- L'.'ttorto Missniiiliiiurs, l-2tli Doooiiilier, IVtT. J o weeks. .\nKnish and low spirits have made mo unlit to read, write, or think. 1 have a hundred times wished that one eiiiild rosiiiii lil'o as ,in ollioor does a eoni- niissiiin ; for I would not tuk'r in any poor i,u:noraiit wretch by .•»/////;/ (l/^^ iialoly, I was a sixpenny private; and, (Iml knows, a niisor- ablo soldier oiioimh : now I march to the oanipaiun a starvinir eadet, a little more eon- spioiiiiiisly wretched, 1 am ashamed of all this; for, iliiiuu:li I do not want bravery for the warfare of life, 1 could wish, like some other siildiers, to have as much fnrtinido or cuniiiiiLf as to disseinlde or conceal my eow- arilico. ' it seems impossible todoulit that ISiirns had, in fact, lin.i;:oreil in l'Miniiiiri;h, in the hope that, to use a vau:ue but sullioiently expre.-.sivo phrase, somethim; would bo done for him. lie visited and revisited a farm, — talked and wrote .scholarly and wisely about ••havinu; a fortune at the plmmh-tail," and ,so forth; iiiii all the while nourished, and assuredly it would have boon must strani^o if ho had not, tho fond dream, that the admiration of his country would ere Ion;; present itself in .some .solid and tan,!,'ililo shape. His illness and oontinoniont Lravehim leisure tiiooncontrato his ima.nination on the darker side of his prospects; and the li.'ltors which we have (|Uiitoil. may teach tliiiso who may envy the imwors and the fame of genius, to pause for a momeiil over the annals of literature, and think what superior oapa- bilitios of misery have boon, in tho great majority of cases, intorwoveu with the pos- session of those very talents, from which al! but their jiossessors derive unminulod urati- tleation. Hurns's distresses, however, were to be still farther airuravated. \Vliilo still under the hands of his siirircon, he received intolliiionee from Mauohlino that his intimacy with .lean Armour had once more exposed her to the repriiaohos of her family. The father sternly and at onoc turned her out of doors ; and liurn.s, unable to walk across his room, had to write to his friend.s in XIauchline to ])roeure siicltcr ■' Letter to Mrs, Duiilup, '21st January, 17S8. K2 hii'K oi' iJoiJKirr lU'iJNs. I lor liix children, niul for \\vr wlioiii Ik- nuisid- rrcd iiH -all but liis wile.' In ti leller to .Mrs. Diinlop, writleii on lieiirinK •»'' I'di* »uw inii*- rorliine, lie wivm, "/ icis/i I urn my forlorn hope. Seriously, though, life ai piv.-ent presents me with Imt a melan- eholy iiath— Hut my limh will soon be stmnd, and 1 shall rtlruj.%'le oii."- It seems to have been iioir that llurn at laslserewed up hiseouruKC tosolieit theaetive interferenee in iii8 bulmlf of the Karl of (ilcn- i-airn. The letter is a brief one. lUirnseoidtl ill endure this novel attitude, anil he rushed at onee to his rcipiest. '• I wish." say.s ho, ••to iret into the K.xeise. I am told your lordship will easily procure me the j,'rant from the eommissioners; and your lordship's patro- ■!aj;e ami kindness, whieli have already reseued me from obseurity, wrelehedness. and e.xile, embolden me to ask that interest. You have likewise put it in my jiower to save the little lie of //owe that sheltered an a^ed mother, two brothers, anct of his wishes, w'ent im. mediately, without dropping any hint ol' In., intention, and comiiiiinicati'd Ihi! state of the I poet'> ca>e to .Mr. tlraham id' Fintry, one ni the eommissioners of excise, who had met I Hums at the l)uke of .Vtliolc's in the autumn, ami wli. immediately had the poet'- name { put on the roll. 1 ••I have chosen this, niy dear frieiiil (iliii^ wrote Hums to .Mrs. l)iiiilop''), after inaiiii'e deliberation. The (|uestion is not at what door of rorlunc's I'alacc shall we eiiti'r in; but what doors docs >lie open to us^/ I was not likely to get anything to do. I wanted //// liiif, which is a dangerous, an uidiappy .situation. I got this without any hanging on. or mortifying stdicitation. It is immediate bread, and, thoimh jioor in comparison ol' the last eighteen months of my e.xistem^e, 'tis luxury in comjtarison of all my jireceding life. JittiidlX, till' ('olllllllnsldlll I'M lin- KOIIIC It/ till III 1111/ ticifioiiiitiiiiri'K, mill nil of tliiiu niji jinii JriiiKiK. (lur jioet seems to have kejil up an iingry correspondence, during his confinement, with his bookseller, .Mr. Creech, whom he alMi abu.ses very heartily in his letters to his friends in .\yrshire. The p'llilisher's iieeouuts, liow- ever, when they were at last made ui>, must have given the impatient author a very agree- able surprise; for in his letter ubovc quoted, to Lord (ilencairn, we find him e.xpressing his hopes that the gross jirolits of his book might amount to "better than .fJOd," whereas, on the day of settling with .Mr. Creech, lie found himself in jiosscssion of .t;'>i«t, if not of .t'tiiM).< :i I'l'liis exiiiiet is tioiii a letter written to .Miss Margaret Clialmeis and not to Mrs. lJiiiil<>|i. It is dated X.'itli Keliniary, ITi^S.I ^ .Mr. Nicol, the most iiitiinate friend limns had lit this time, writes to Mr. .Joiiii l.ewars, exeise-ollleer at Dumfries, immediately on liearint; of the poets death,- "lie certainly told me that he received CUdO for the first KclinliiiiKli edition, and ClOO afterwards for the coi>viiulit " (.M.S. in my iiossession). Dr. Curriu states the uross product of t'reeeh's edition lit C')00, and Hums himself, in one of liia printed Utters, at £4(K) only. Nicol hints, in the letter already refeiied to, that Hnrns had contracted deiti .vhilo in r.diiiimiKli, which he mijjlit not wish to avow on :ill nciiisions; and if we are to lielieve this, and, as 1,1 1'K Ol" KoltKUr 151'KNS. 8:) I'i'nicinlKM'cii ill \Vim(l"), liii|i. Iii« piilinii, .■*1U'H, wi'iil iiii iii.v liiiil, III' liw the stall; "I' llir l''iiilrv, iiiic III ^^|||> hail iiici II llic autiiiiiii. |IIU'I '» llalllr ■||,i, ,ii|i|.l> laiiK'inil.v ill iIk' liiMir III iii'cil ; tlN", it (.'Jim, Id uhmUi him in liii' iiiaiiaWi'. .iiiii '<\ Mi'iiiH lohiivoi-hivuliil liiKHiiiiilKKivullv. iiifiit nf Mus.'.nifl. " I Kivi' iii.vm'II' in airi i.n itiHJ iriMii liii'i I'"" •'"' 'i""' " "*'" "'"'■'^ "' ''"'*•' '"■ Kt'iii'rtiiii«lv Ha.VK in a UlttT In Dr. ,,iiiliiUii T ; I'll' lit' """ i"i"*iiiii«''l iiiiiiiL'.lialflv .Mouri'. "rnr it was luiTu Hi'HiRJin.'MH on iiiv pari. Ill, iiiiriiiwo ol' lakiii« .Mr. .Millt'r's liinii, it- ! I \\n* riiiiM-iiiiis thai- liic wniiiv M-ah- nl' llir i.iiiiiiiu lii'* oxi'l^i! I'liiiiiiii^siiiii ill lii* piifkrl ! Iialaiu'c was prcll.v hfavilv fiiarv;i'nioo|ii nialUT!* al llii.' ill- l.iiillii'r from his (lilliiMilliiM, Itv aiivaiiriiii; | iiniinl nddnlinj." ■ar frii'iiil (liiii- ), aflir iiialiiii' s not at wimi 1 \vf I'lili-r in; io ii>v I «a> |i\ my lianuiin.' on. I is iiiinii'iliair in|>ariMiii of iht- cxlsteiii'i', 'lis liri'ffdinu lifo. .iiiiiii' (liilo t wisli to avow uii Ik'Ve tills, and, as T'l lliukr il tlilli|i.\ lili'r-iilr illllli' I'm' uiMiiH anil \\\(v Til It » till' lull' iiallhin mill ^ulllill|i' I If liiiiiiiiii llfi'. .l.illnli ill.M'TKl; VII. iMarrhiui': lake.'* r.llislaiid. and inlris mi iiiishi'mhIiiii : i'MIIsih fur his iiiairliiui' : liaild.n a Iimiiv. and I I inus III" »ifi' liuiiii' : iMnipaii.v niiii'tid li,\ iiriuldiiiili's and visiturs : -nintriliiltluiis ti>
  • linHiin s .I/cmioii I \ti'ii>iM' I iiirrHpiiiidi'iiri' : fanning a falliiii': olitaln.'* arliial inipliiyniiiit as an rxrlsi'iiian : .Mian I iniiilii;:liani H ivcnlli rtiniis'. pi'ills and trni|ilatli>ns nf liis new voiatlnii : llu' "uliistle cuntrst : I aptiiili liiiisi' : " Tain ii' Shantir : ■ li'|.iind : Klllslaiid iineeduteH: leuves I'.lllsjaiid : last visit tu r.din- I'Ui'uli: i'Mii\ InIiiI i'liiivrisiilliin.j then eros.sed the eoiintry to Dalswinlon. and eoneluded his liarv:ain with .Mr. .Miller as lo the farm of Kllisland, on terms wliieh iiiiisi nndoiilitedly have lieeii eonsidered hy liolli jiarties as hitfhly faviiuralile to ihe poel ; iliey were indeed li.xed by two of Hiirns's own friends, who aeeompanied him for that pur- pose from .\yrshire. The lease was for four sueees.sive terms, of nineteen years eaeli,--iii tiriiieil liy tlie I'l'eleHiastleal aiitlmrltleH on lliinis and his wife hilliililiiiK themselves liefore the se.^slnn. The fiilliiwiiiK is a enpy of the se.ssiiin-clerk's ii rurd. the Nigiiatiire uf .lean lieliiK in the iioet's liaiidwrit- ilig: '■ IV.NS, AiiKUst ti, Sess. eon.: Ciiiiipeared Unlnit HiniiH with .lean Anniiiii', his alle).'eil spniise. 'riie\ liiitli aekniiwIeilKed their irreKUlur iiiarriaue and their siiniiw fur that irregularity, and deslrliiK that the ,Sess|iin will take Hiieh steps as may seem to them proper, in nrder to the Solemn Ciinlirmation of the said niarrlaue. "The .Session taking this alfair under their eon- sideratimi, a^ree that they liotli he rebuked fm- this aekiiowleilKed irre^tularlty. and that they lie taken solemnly en^'ajied to adhere faithfully to oiii. anntlnr as liiisliand and wife all the days of their life. " In regard the Session have a title In law to smne line for behoof of the poor, they ajiree to refer to Mr. liiirns liia own generosity. •'The above Sentence was ac(oiilin;;ly e.vecuted. and the .Session absolved the said ]iaities finin any scandal on this aeet. Kobt. lUinis. "Williii. Auld, Moilr. .lean Aniiour. "(Mr. limns n"ve a cnineaiinte fui' lulmnf nf the poor). ■ I lliirii-. as soon as his lirnised limit was aide jnr a jonriiey, rode lo .\iossj;iel. and went iliioiiirli the eereinoiiy of a jiisliee-of-peaee marriaue with .lean Armour, in I he wrilinu'- eliainliers of his friend (iavin Hamilton.' He !•> piiibable. the expense of prIlitlllK the sllbseriptioii rilltiiiii, slmnld. nioreover, be deducted from tin CTlHI -taled liy .Mr. .Mcol -the apparent eonlrailietions in lliese stories may be Jiretty nearly reconeiled. There appeals tu be reason fur thinking that Creeeli snb- Mijiiriitly paid nmre than CKKI fur the eiipyi'j;.dit. If lie dill nut. Iioweaine Itiirns to reall/.e. asCnnie states it al till' end of his MciiKiir, "nearly nine Inindied puinids in all by his ]ioeinsV " I lllinns left r.dinbiirKli for Ayrshire on l.sth l''eb- iilaiy, bat it was not till soinetlnie in May that ■iian "blained a title to be publicly desi;;iiatvil " Mrs. burns. ' by piliiK thron^li sinne form in (iavin Ham- illmi s iitllee. the " kirk " ceremonial imt lakiiiK place till AiiK'ilst. In fact. It would seem that Iturns at lliis time had no Intention of making her his wife, lie was in Ihe midst of the Infatuation about Clarinda. I" «lioiii he writes, after having visited .lean; "I am disgusted with her (,leaii). 1 cannot endure her. ... I have done with her, and she with me. In Maieli he iletaila to .Vinslie how he had sworn her privately and solemnly never to atteni|it any claim "II liiiii as a hnsbaiid, so that .lean's chance of be- ciiniin;,' Mrs. linrns did nut luuk biijrlit at the time burns left KdinbniKb nur fur sume time after. riie inarria;ic uf Kiirns and .lean Arniuiir wa- euii- 84 LIFE OF ROBERT BURNS. all sovciity-six years; the rent lor the first three veiirn ami crops XoO ; ihiriiis the re- muindcr of the period £70. Mr. -Miller lioniul himself to defray tiie e.xpeiise of any planta- tions which Hums might please to make on the banks of the river; and the farm-house and offices being in a dilapiilate(' condition, the new tenant was to receive X'MW from the proprietor, for the erection of suitable buildinsrs. •'The land," .says Allan Cunninshani, "was fiood, the rent moderate, and the markets v ere rising." Burns entered on possession of his farm at Whitsuntide 1788, but the necessary rebuild- ing of the iiouse prevented his removing .Mrs. Burns thitheruntil the season was faradvanced. He had, moreover, to (pialify himself for liold- ing his excise commission by six weeks' at- tendance on tiie business of that profession at Ayr. From these circumstances, he led this summer a wandering and unsettled life, and Dr. Ciirric mentions this as one of his chief mi>^'rortune.s. "The jwct," as he says, "was continually riding between Ayrshire and Dum- friesshire; and, often spending a night on the road, sometimes fell into company, and forgot the resolutions he had formed." What these resolutions were ilie poet hini- .sclf shall tell us. On the tnim ,.,.., of his resi(le<-.c\: ;\i Ellisland, ho thus writes to .Mr. Aiiislje . ' I warfare -if iJ.- u.-on bred to arms, among the liffh *•!';•-', li.i.j picjuet gn:inlsof fancy, a kind o" ' happiness or misery. . . . The most iihuiil good-nature and sweetness of disposition ; a warm heart, gratefully devoted with all its powers to love me; vigorous health and sprightly cheerfulness, .set off to the licst advantage by a more than commonly hand- some figure; these, I think, in a woman, may make a good wife, though she .sliould never have read a page but the Scriptures of the Old and New Testament, nor danced in a brighter assembly than a pcnny-pa" wedding."' . . , "To jealousy or infidelity I am an e(|U!ii stranger; my preservative from tlie first, is tln' mo.st thorough consciousness of her sentiments of honour, and her attachment to me;- my antidote against the last, is my long and dccji- rooted aflfection for her. . . . In householil matters, of aptness to learn, and activity tn execute, she is eminently mi.s. . . . You are right, that a bachelor state would have ensured me nuu-e friends; but from a cause you will easily guess, conscious peace in the enjoyment of my own mind, and nnmistrnsting conti /<- 3f Li,-s:ii; ;•,,, 1 Highlanders of the brain; but ,; .,;'! liiiu! • :-cs' '.^CiS to sell out of these giddy batta'i'iv... Cost what it will, 1 amdetennined to buy in among the !.Tave squadrons of iieavy armed thought, or the artillery corps of plod- ding contrivance. . . . Were it not for the terrors of my ticklish situation respecting a family of children, I am decidedly of opini(ui that the step 1 have taken is vastly for my happiness." To all his friends, he expresses himself in terms of similar satisfaction in regard to his marriage. " Your surmise, madam." he writes to Mrs. Dunlop, "is just. 1 am indeed a husband. I found a once mu<'h-lovcd. and still much-loved female, literally and truly cast out to the mercy of the naked elements, but as I enabled her to piirr/nisf a shelter; and there is no sporting with a fellow-ere.iture's 1 Letter to Mis. Diinloi), 14tli .Tune. 17.s.s. - 1" l'erlia]is, after all, tlie.se revuliitiuiis in tlie aiilent vivaeiims iiiiiid of Hiivils |tliat i.s, liis foigettiie.; all Ills VdWB anil pi-otestaiioiis to CliiiiiKla ami iiiaii> ill;.' .Ii'an] are le.ss astoinuliiijj; tliiiii tlie fiiet (fur it is one lieyond all (inestion) that the jioet was not now, and never had been, exactly the favoiiiite lover cf .lean. There was, it seems, another iieison whom .she fiiiieied above him, thou;;li, as but too idaiiil.v ajiiieais. .she had been unable to eoiiteiid against th.' fascination of those dark e.ves in which lay l:er fate. - Itobeit Chambers. I I Letter ti> Mrs. Dunldp. intli .Tuly, 1T8S. Tlie most jilaiiil of disposition ; a oted witli all its rous health and off to the licst I'onniioiily haiul- iii a woman, may slio sliould ncvi'i- iptnros of the Old need ill a hriulitfr cddin^. "1 . . , I am an e(|iiiil imi the first, is llic of her seiitinu'nts lent to me ; - my ly lonj^ and dtcp- . In houselmld 1, and activity id suoss, and diiriiiv e is reiiularly and my mother and ler rural l)usine>s. a haehelor statu ore friends; Ijiii >' guess, eonseion.-- ly own mind, and approaeiiini;' my I of tlieninnlier. "■■ Is Mi.ss Clnilniifs , jicrhaps, in eon of romance," - lie — "l>ut," he eon- ) repent it. if 1 modish manners, not sickened and curse of hoardinu- ive i;ot the hand- .'st temper, tlic the kindest heart he.ievesas iirndy lifi III! <-- the partial lover! you will say) the finest woodnote-wild 1 ever heard."' It was durinj,' this honeymoon, as he calls it. while chiefly resident in a miserable hovel at i:ilisland, and only occasionally si)ending a (lay or two in Ayi-shire, that he wrote the beautiful song, iliri'c'tiuns love roll Of a' the airts the wiud can lilaw, I dearly like the west, Tor there the lioniiie lassie lives, 'I'lie lassie I lo'e best; Tliere wililwdnds nmw, and rivers row Aud niau) a hill between, r.iit day and iii(,'lit my fancy's tlight Is ever wi' my .reau. (1 Maw, ye westlin wiiuls, blaw saft wtsteru AmauK the leafy trees, Wi (leutle gale, frae muir niul dale, from Ihiti;; lianie the laden liees, home And hriiiK the liissie hack to me, Tliat's aye sae neat and clean, idwnys Au blink o' her wad banish eare, uiu' slimiise .Sae iDvely is my .lean.- "A di,-icerning reader," says Jlr. Walker, "will ])erceivc that the letters in which he announces his marriage to .some of his most respected correspondents, arc written in that state when the mind is pained by reflecting on an unwelcome step, and finds relief to itself in seeking arguments to justify the deed, and lessen its disadvantages in the opinion of others. "3 I confess I am not able to discern any traces of this kind of feeling in any of Hurns's letters on this interesting and impor- tant occasion. Mr. Walker seems to take it for granted, that because Burns admired the ' One of IJinnss letters, wiitten not long after this ltd .Mrs. Uunlop, .Inly 10, 17S8|, contains a pas.sage strongly nuo'ked with his haughtiness of character. "I have escaped," says he, "the fantastic caprice, tlic api.sh affectation, with all the other blessed lioarding-.school aeciulrements which are sometimes to he found among females of the upper ranks, ))nt almost universally pervade the misses of the wcuiUl- bcgcntry. " - [This stanza, as is now well known, was not written l)y Burns.) '' MoHson, vol. i. p. Iw.xvii. VOb. I. superior manners and accomplishments of women of the higher ranks of society, he must necessarily, whenever lie discovered "the in- terest which l»e had the power of creating" in such persons, have aspired to fi!id a wife among them. But it is, to say the least of the matter, extremely doubtful, that Burns, if he had had a mind, could have found any high- born maiden willing to partake such fortunes as his were likely to be, and yet posses.sed of such qualifications for making him a happy man, as he had ready for his acceptance in his " Bonny .lean." The proud heart of the poet could never have stooped itself to woo for gold; and birth and high breeding could only have been introduced into a farm-hou.se to embitter, in the upshot, the whole existence of its in- mates, it is very easy to say, that had Burns married an accomplished woman, he m! Paul's Life of Bunm, p 4.^ LIFE OF ROBEKT BURNS. th< jrld could hi failed to decide court against her. So far from Burns's having all along regarded her as his wife, it is extremely doubtful whether she had ever for one nmuicut considered him as actually her husband, uiiiil he declared the marriage of 1788. Hums did no more than Justice as well as honour de- maiuled ; but the act was one which no liuniiin triljunal could have compelled him to i)erforni.'-' To return to our story. Burns complains sadly of his solitary condition, when living in the only hovel that he found extant on his farm. "I am,"sjiyshe(Septcmbcr{tth), "busy with my harvest ; but for all that most pleasur- able part of life called social intercourse, I am here at the very elbow of existence. The only things that are to be found in this co\nitry in any degree of perfection, are stupidity and canting. Prose they only know in jirayers, &c. , and the value of these they estimate as they do their plaiding webs, by the ell. As for the rinses, they have as much idea of a rhinoceros as of a i)oct. "^ And in another letter (September 10), he says: "This hovel that I shelter in while occasionally here, is jjcrvious to every blast that blows, and every shower that falls, and I am only jircserved from being chilled to death by being sutt'ocated by - 1 mil Ii.iiukI to say tlmt, from some eiiticisms mi the llrst edition of tliis iiarnitivf, imlilislail in Si-ot- land, and evidently liy Scotch lawyers, it ai)iii'ais, that the case, "Arnimir versus Hums," had there ever lieeii sticli a lawsuit, would have lieeii more dilHeult of deeision than I had ]ireviously siiji|iosed. One tliinn, however, is (luite clear: limns himself had no notion, that, in aekiio\vled<:iiiK his Jitnn as hir wife, lie was liut yieldii)_ what levtal nieaauies eouM Iiave extoittil from him. Let any one eoiisider, for example, the laiiKUaKe of the letter in which he aii- iiouneea his marriage and estalilishmeiit at EUisland, to Mr. Iturness of Montrose — " (minland ^th Feb. 1780.) . . . Here, at last. I have heconie stationary, and have taken a farm, and —a wife. . . . Aly wife is my .lean, with whose story you are partly acquainted. I found I had a inueli- loved fellow-creature's liap])iness or mi.sery amont; my hands, and I durst not trille with so sacred a deposit. (This sentence oeeurs at least half a dozen times in letters to ditferent parties, and seems to jnstifv Walker's remark that Burns soiifiht arguments to justify his marriage.] Indeed, I have not any reason to repent the stej) I have taken, as 1 have attaeheeautifully situated on the banks cif the Nith, about si.\ miles above Dumfries, exactly opposite to the house of J)alswinton, and those noble woods and gardens amidst which Burns's landlord, the ingenious 3Ir. Patrick Jliller, found rela.xation from the scientific studies and researches in which he .so greatly excelled.''' Un the Dalswinton side, the river washes lawns and groves; but over against these the bank rises into a long red iicKiir, of considerable height, along the verge 1 Letter to Miss Chalniors, 10th Septeinl)cr, 1788. - 1 1.dckliart makes several errors here, liunis's lioiiseliol;! at this time eonsisteil of himself and hia wiff, his sister, and ii domestic servant, together witli two men and two women enf;aKelendour of summer, it would be easy to point out twenty in which he records the solemn delight with which he contemplated the melancholy grandeur of autumn, or the savage gloom of winter. Indeed, I cannot but think, that the result of an e.xact in(|uiry into the compo.sition of Burns's poems, would be, that "his vein," like that of .Milton, Ho wed most hapjjily, "from the autumnal eipiinox to the vernal." Uf Lord Byron, we know that his vein flowed best at midnight ; and Burns has liim.self told us, that it waH his custom " to take a gloamin' shot at the Muses." The poet wa.s accustomed to say, that the Most happy period of his life was the first winter he spent at Elli.sland, for the tirst time uniicol, of tlio High School; and lastly, that noblest of nil his ballads, "To .Mary in Heaven." This celebrated jioem was, it is on all hands admitted, comjio.sed by Hums in Septenibur, 17S!', on the anniversary of the day on whicji he heard of the death of liis early love, .Man Campliell.^ Hut .Mr. Cnmiek has thought fii to dress up the story with circumstances whjili did not occur. Mrs. Hums, the only per.-dii who could appeal u personal recollection on this occasion, and whose recollections of all circumstances connectei with the history of her huiiband's poems are represented as being remarkal)ly distinct and vivid, gives wliat may at first apjiear a :nore prosaic edition of the history.-' .Vccording to her. Hums sjient that iiii Moniimj, 17S9. "This, dear madam, is a morning of wLshcii, and would to (iod that 1 came under the apostle Jamcs'.s description I — the jinujer of a rhjliteom iikiii avnileth vuich. In that case, madam, you shotild welcome in a year full of blessings ; everything that obstructs ordisturbs traiKjuillity and self-enjoyment should be re- moved, and every pleasure that frail humanity can taste, should be yours. I own myself so little a Presbyterian, that I approve of set times and .seasons of more than ordinary acts of devotion, for breaking in on that habituated routine of life and thought, which is so apt to reduce our existence to a kind of instinct, or even sometimes, and with some iniiuls, to a state very little superior to mere machinery. "This day, the first Sunday of May, a breezy, blue-skyed noon sometime about the beginning, and a hoary morning and calm 00 LIFE OF ROBERT BURNS. ! HUiiiiy (lay about tlie ciul of aiituinii; tlieso, time out uf iiiiiiil, liiivu been witli me a kind ol holiiliiy. I lielieve I owe this to that glorious imiier ill tiie .S/nrfntur, "i'liu N'isiim of .Miiv.u,' u iiiece tliiit stnu'k my youiij? faney before I was ea]>alilc of fixing an idea t(i a word of tiiree syllables: '(In tiio fitli day of the moon, which, aeeordinff to the eiistom of my fore- fatiiers, I always bc/i fio/i/, after havint; wasiied myself and oflered up my morning devotions, I usecnded the hi,i;h hill of liagdat, in order to pass the rest of the day in meditation and prayer. ' "We know nothinir, or next to nothinj;:, of the substance or structure of our souls, so cannot account for those seemin;; caprices in them, that one should be particularly pleased with tills tliinj?, or struck with that, which, on minds of a diHerent cast, makes no c.xfra- onlinary impression. I have some I'avouritc flowers in sprinjj;, among which are the moun- tain daisy, the harebell, the fo.v-glove, the wild brier-rose, the budding birch, and the lioary hawthorn that I view and hang over with particular delinht. I never heard the loud, solitary whistle of the curlew, in a summer noon, or tlic wild mixing cadence of a troo[) of prey plover, in an autunnial morning, with- out feeling an elevation of soul like the en- thusiasm of devotion or poetry.' Tell me, my dear friend, to what can this be owing? Arc we a piece of machinery, which, like the i'Kolian harp, i>assive, takes the impression of ♦ he passing accident? Or do these workings argue something within us above the trodden cloil? I own myself partial to such proofs of tlio.sc awful and important realities— a (lill W(>r.«e, It) iiiniiiiicralde teiii]itatioiis of tlic kind he was least, likely to resist. I hiive now the satlst'aftion of itresentinu the reailir with some jiartieiilars of this part of IJiiriis's history, derived from a source which every lover of Scotland and Scottish poetry must he jircpared to hear mentioned with re- spect. It happened that at the time when our i)oet went to Nithsdalc, the father of Mr. ,\il;in I'linniiiKhani was steward on the estate of l):ii>winton : he was, as all who have read the writings of his son will readily believe, a man of rciiiarkahle talents and attainments : lie was a w i>c and uood man ; a fervid admirer of Hunis's i;enius; and one of those .sober iiciirliboiirs who in vain strove, by advice and wiiniinir. to arrest the ])oot in the downhill path, towards which a thousand seductions were perpetually drawinjj; him. Allan C'uii- iiiiiv'hani was, of course, almost a child when he fir-it saw Hums ; but he was no common child ; anil, besides, in what he has to .say on this subject, we may he Hurc we arc hcariiiu: the substance of his benevolent and sa.nacious father's observations and reflections. His own boyisii recollections of the poet's personal ap- pearance and demeanour will, however, be read with interest. " I was very youmr," says Mr. Cunningham, " when 1 first saw Hums. He came to .see my father; and their conversation turned jiartly on faniiinjr, partly on poetry, in both of which my father had taste and skill. Hums had Just come to Nithsdalc ;' and 1 think he appeared a shade moreswarthy than he does in Nasmyth's picture, and at least ten years older than he really was at the .ime. His face was deejily marked by tluuifrlit, and the habitual expression intensely melancholy. His frame was very muscular and well jiroportioned, thoufrh he had a short neck, and something of a ploughman's stoop ; he was strong, and proud of his strength. • [.Mian I'uniiiiifjliam must Imve been "vcryyouiif!," iiuk'cil, at this tiinu, seeing that he was horn in ITS') ((ir accoidiiiK to some iiutliorities, I'm), ami Hums laiiic to Nithsdalc in 178S. His recollections of Hums at this time must be considered rather his father's than his uwn.1 I saw him one evening mutch himscli ,< th a number of masons ; and out of five-and-tweiity practised hands, the most vigorous young men in the parish, there was only uiiu that could lift the same weiuht as Hums. "He hud a very manly face, and a very melancholy look ; but on the coming of those he esteemed, his looks brightened up, and his whole face beamed with utlcction and genius. His voice was very musical. I once heard him read 'Tarn o' Shunter,' — I think I hear him now. His fine manly voice followed all the undulations of the sense, and expressed as well as his genius had done, the pathos and humour, the horrible and the awful, of that wonderful performance. As a man feels so will he write ; and in pri))>ortion as he .syin])athi/.cs with his author, so will he read him with grace and e fleet. " I .said that Hums and my father conversed about poetry and farming. The jioet had newly taken possession of his farm of Kllisland, — the masons were busy building' 'lis house, — the applause of the world was with him, and a little of its money in his pocket, — in short, he had found a resting-place at last. Jle spoke w ith great delight about the exeellcncc of his farm, and particularly about the beauty of its situation. 'Yes,' my father said, 'the Avalks on the river bunks are fine, and you will see from your windows some miles of the Nith; but you will also see several farms of fine rich holm,'- any one of which you might have had. You have made a poet's choice, rather than u fanner's. ' " If Hums had much of a farmer's skill, he had little of a farmer's prudence and economy. I once inquired of James t'orrie, a .sag'cious old fanner, Avho.se ground marched with Kllis- land, the cause of the poet's failure. ' Faith,' .said he, 'how could he miss but fail, when his servants ate the bread as fast as it was baked? I don't mean figuratively, I mean literully. Consider a little. At that time close economy was necessary to have enabled a man to clear twenty pounds a year by Ellisland. Now, Hurns's own handiwork wa.s out of the ques- tion ; he neither ploughed, nor sowed, nor 2 llulm is Hat, rich, meadow land, intervening liutwecu a stream and the jteneral elevation of the adjdiniiiK country. [What is called haitgh or carte land ill Hcutliuid.] i>2 LIFE OF UOHEUT IJIJKNS. : 11 tf rnipcil, ivt IciiHt, like ii Imnl-workini? f'uriiu'r; anil thfii lu! hull it licvy dI' HorviuiU Innii Ayr- xliire. The hinsies iliil nothing hut Imke lircail, ttiiil the hiilH Hat, l)y llie (ireHiile, ami ate it warm, witii ale. Wante of time ami eonsiimi)- tiim of food wouiil noon reach to twenty j»»iiniU u year.'' "The truth of the eaHc/'sjiyn Mr. C'umiiiiK- ham, in another letter with whieh he ha-* favoiireil me, "tiie truth i«, that if liohert Uiirnn liked IiIm farm, it wiw more for the lieatity of its situation than for the laliours whii'h it ilenianiled. lie was too wayward to attend to the stated duties of a husliandman, and too impatient to wait till the p-ound re- turned in Kain the cultivation he liestowed upon it. " The condition of a farmer, a Nilhsdale one 1 mean, was then very humlde. 1 1 i* one-story house had a covering- of straw, and a clay floor ; the furniture was from lac hands of a country carpenter; and, lietween the roof and floor, there seldom intervened a smoother ceiliii!.' than of rouf^h rods and jjrassy t\irf — while a hu!,'C lan,g;-.HCttle of black oak for himself, and a carved arm-chair for his wife, were the only matters out of keei)iiiK with the homely looks of his resideiu'e. I'' took all his meals in his own kitchen, and j)! • uled reuularly animifr his children and domesiics. He performed family worship every evening — except durinj? the hurry of harvest, when that duty was perhaps limited to Saturday nijrlit. A few reliiiious hooks, two or three favourite poets, the history of his country, and his Bible, aided him in forming the minds and manners of the family. To domestic education, Scotland owes as much as to the care of her clerijy and the excellence of her i)arish. schools. "The picture out of doors was less inter- estinpr. The p'ound from which the farmer ' [It ought to be iiR'iitiout'd, however, tliat CuiHc's stateiiiuiit was iii(lij{iiaiitly dunicil liy Mrs. I'.uriis. .speaking of it to M'Diainiid .she ilodarud that "liuins iliil work, and often like a liard-workiuK fanner." Slio had seen him, while he liad his excise duties to look after, "sow after breakfast two l)asis of eorn for tlie folk to harrow throuttli the day. . . . There was no waste : on the contrary, evervthinR went on on the principle that is observed in any other well- reguhited farm-house." The " l)evy of servants from Ayr.shire, ' us has been pointed out previously, is also an exaggeration. Statements made by Allan Cunning- ham are oftc" to be received with caution.] .sou^lit support, was Kt'ncrally in a very niotli i- ate state of cultivation. The implements wiih which he tilled his land were primitive and clumsy, and his own knowledge of the niaiiane- ment of cropsexceedin.'ly limited, lie plodihd on in the regular sloth fill rouliiii'of hi>anci'>toi'^; he rooted (Hit no bushes; IkmIuu: up riii>loni'^; he drained not, neither did he inclose; and weeds obtained their full share of the ilinn; and the lime, which he bcslowid more like a medicine than a meal (ui his soil. His ploii;r|, was the rude old Scoti'h one; his harrow> h;!i| as often teeth of wood as ol iron; \n>\ carls were heavy ami low-w heeled, or were, more j)roperIy siieakinir, tninblcr-cars, so called to distinguish them from trail-cars, both id' which were in common use. < >n these nidf carriaucs his manure was taken to the field and his crop lirouiiht home. The farmer hiinstdf corresiion- deil in all res]>ects with his impi'rl'ect instru- ments. His poverty secured him fnun I'iskiiii;- costly experiments; and his hatred of inno- vation made him intrench himself behind a breastwork of old maxims and rustic saws, which he interjiretcd as orach's delivered uffainst iniproirwi'iit. With ^^round in sui li condition, with tools so untit, and with kimw- ledire so imperfect, he sometimes succeeded in wrin,u;in;j:a few hundred ])ounils.S'c()/.-i from the farm he occupied. Such was ucncrally the state of agriculture when Miirns cjinie to Nithsdale. I know not how far his own skill was equal to the ta>k of improvenu'nl - his trial was short and unfortunate. .\n important change soon took place, by which he was not fated to i)rofit; he had not the forcsiuht to see its approach, nor, lU'obalily, the fortitude lo await its cominjj. " In the year 171I'*, much of the uroiind in Nithsdale was leased at .seven, and ten, and fifteen shillings j)er acre; and the farmer, in his jterson and his hou.sc, ditt'ered little from the peasants and mechanics around him. He would have thought his daimhlci' wedded in her degree, had she married a joiner or a ma.son; and at kirk or market, all m"n bencaHi the rank of a 'portioner' of the soil mingled together, equals in appearance and imitortanee. Hut the war which soon commenced, gave a decided impulse to airricullure; the army and navy consumed largely ; corn rose in denumd ; I the price ancmcnted ; more land was called LIFE OF KOHKUT IJUIINS. m ■wJ iiiii) fiiltiviition; mill, uh Iciwcm cxiiiriMl, tlio |,iiiiirit'lrovuil the urouiidH, linllt Itctlcr hipiiM-', ciilaru;!'"! the iviiIh; uikI ilu' runner «;14 HDOll ImrilC "II till' willKH of Kllllllcn HCtlllll iiliKVc lii^ (iiiKiiml nuiilitiDii. HIh Iioiiho nliiiiint'il u sliilt'fl niof, xiiHli-wiinlows, fiirpetcil I1.MII-. pllistl'lllil wiiIIh, uikI CVl'll Ik'KUII In fX- (•Imiiuii llic Imnkt* of yiirii with whicli it wiw loiiiu'riv hiiiiir, tor imiiitiiiK'* mi'l piaiiofortoK. Ill' liiiil ii>iiirpassed the licentiousness, as well as the wit and humour, of (he old Scottish muse, 'riiese have unfor- tunately foiinil their way to the press, und I am afraid they cannot be recalled. ' '' In conclusion, I may say, that few men have had .so much of (he ]ioet alioiit them, and few poets so ninch of the niaii- the man was Itridiably less pure than he on,u:ht to have been, but the poet was |)ure and brivtht to the last." The reader must be sutlicientiy prepared to hear, that from the time when he entered on his excise duties, the poet more and more nettlected the concerns ol' his farm. Occasion- ally, he luifrht be seen holdinir the jdough, an exercise in which he excelled, and was proud ofexcelliiiir, or stalkinji'down his furrows, with the white sheet of j;rain wrai>l about him, a " tenty seedsman;" but he was more com- monly occupied in far different pursuits. " I am now," says he, in one of his letters, "a ]ioor rascally gau.irer, condemned to pillop two hundred miles every week, to inspect dirty bonds and yeasty barrels. " [Miirns's district, to which he was appointed in the autumn ot 1789, comprised ten ])arishes, with his own ])arisli in the centre.] Both in vor.se and in prose he has recorded the feelings with which he first followed his new vocation. Mis jests on the subject arc - A'/nis.— 'I'lie Imrvcst-Iioine dances aio so called in Hiotlaiid. ■' ITliis refers to n ciplloctioii of oltl-fiisliioiied and liinlily-spiced Scotcli soiij^s of which T.unis took the IiaiiistofoniuiAIS.collertion.niulwliichcoiitninedalgo jiieccs of similar character written liy himself. This collection after Hunis's death fell into theliaiidsof n lieison who had it iirlnted anil sinieiititioiisly liawked al)out the country iiiuler the title of tlie Mcni/ Mi'Xen (if Caledonia. See vol. iv. p. 228.1 94 LIFE OF ROBERT BURNS. \> h' i: ;i! iiiiifonnly bitter. '• I Iiavc the same consola- tion," he tolls .Mr. Ainslie, "which I once heard ii recruiting sergeant give to his audience in the "cts of Kilmarnock : ' CJcntlemen, for your fan her encouragement, I can as.suro you I hat ours is the mo.''r/ii/. Three gentlemen of ancient descent, had met to determine, by a solemn drinking-match,who should pos.se.ss f/ic W/ilsth', which a common ancestor of them all had earned ages before, in a bacchanalian contest of the same .sort with a noble toper from Den- mark ; and the poet was summoned to watch over and celebrate liie issue of the debate. Then np rose the hard like a prophet in drink, CraiKdarroch shall soar when creation shall sink ; But if thou wouldst tluurish immortal in rhyme, Come, one hottle more, and have at the suldime. Nor, as has already been hinted, was he safe from temptations of this kind, even when he was at home, and most disposed to enjoy in quiet the society of his wife and children Lion-gazers from all quarters beset him ; they eat and drank at his cost, an')et on Ills )owl, of Inverary I fatlier-in-law -Mr. it. After passing I tlie projierty of i M.V. for I'aisley. honour in condesec.iding to be entertained for a sinulo evening, with such company and such liijuor. We have on record various glimpses of him, as he appeared while he was half-farmer, h.ilf- c\ci>eniaii ; and some of the.sc present him in attitudes and aspects on which it would be ideasing to dwell.' For example, the cireum- >taiices under which the verses on the •' Wounded Mare " were written, are mentioned generally by the poet him.self. James Thom- son, son of the occupier of a farm adjoining KUislaiid, told Allan Cunningham that it was lie who wounded the animal. "Hums," said this person, " was in the custom, when at hnme, of strolling by him.self in the twilight every evening, along the Nith, and by tiie miiirli lictween his land and ours. The hares often came and nibbled our \vheat-//»'«(*v/; and once, in the gloaming, it was in April, I got a shot at one ami wounded her; she ran bleeding by IJurns, who was pacing up and lit was not, aecordiiijf to Mrs. liurns, strictly a ■ miiitial fiift;' Burns took a fancy to it on one of his visits to .\yr.sliii'e, when his lather-in-law presented it t suthcifiit, in additinn to the ordinaiy iittraitinii of a village fair, to coinniand my presence ill the ni i ket. liurns actually entered the fair ahoiit ii.elve; ;imiI man, wife, and lass, were all on the oiit- liHik i'or a pee]) of the Ayrshire ploujihman. I care- fidly dofiLied him from stand to stand, and from door to dour. An iiiis For ae blinlt o' tlie bonnie bardies.' To tho last, Hums was of opinion that -'Tani o' SJiaiiter" was the best of his pro- ductions; and although it does not often happen tliat poet and public come to the same conclusion on such points, I believe the de- cision in question has been all but unanimously approved of. The admirable execution of the piece, so far as it goes, leaves iiothin,!,' to wish for; the only criticism has been, that the catastrophe appeai-s unworthy of the preparation. IJurns might have avoided this error — if error it be — had he followed not the Ayrshire, but the (ialloway edition of the legend. According to that tradition, the Ciitfi/Siirk who attracted the special notice of the bold intruder on the Satanic ceremonial, was no other than the jirctty wife of a farmer residing in the some village with himself, and of whose unholy propensities no suspicion had ever been whispered. The (ialloway Tain being thor- oughly sobered by terror, crept to his bed the moment he reached home after his escape, and said nothing of what had hajipened to any of his family. He was awakened in the morn- ing with the astounding intelligence that his horse had been found dead in the stable, and a woman's hand, clotted with blood, adhering to the tail. Presently it Wiis reported that Ci(tti/-Snrk had burnt her hand grievously over-night, and was ill in bed, but obstinately refused to let her wound be examined by the village leech. Hereupon Tani, disentangling the bloody hand from the hair of his defunct favourite's tail, proceeded to the residence of the fair witch, and forcil)Iy pulling her stump to view, showed his trophy, and narrated the whole circumstances of the adventure. The poor victim of the black art was constrainetl to confess her guilty practices in presence of the priest and the laird, and was fortiiwith burnt alive under their joint auspices, within watermark, on the Solway Firth. ' The aliove is to be (d" the essence of the mythological urotcii/iic. Hums lays the scene of this remarkable pi r- formance almost on the spot where he was bori: ; and all the terrific circumstances by which lie has marked the progre.ss of Tam's midniuht journey, are drawn from local tradition. By this time he was cross the ford Whare in thesiniw theehapman smoored.snKitlicrnl And past tlie birks and meikle stanc, l>iivlieH Whare drneken Charlie brak's luck-banc; And throngh the whins, and by tlie cairn, Whare hunters fand the mnrdered bairn ; fiMiiul And near the thorn, almon the well, jitiovc Where Jtungo's iiiither hanged herseli. None of these tragic memoranda were derived from imagination. N'or was "Tarn o' Slianter' himself an imaginary character. Slianter i> a farm close to Kirkoswald, that smuggling village, in which Hums, when nineteen yeai-- old. studied mensumlion, and "first becanic ac(|uainted with scenes of swaggering riot." The then occupier of .Slianter, by name Douglas (Iraliam, was, by all accounts, eciually what the Tamof the poet ajipears, — a jolly, careless rustic, who took much more interest in the contraband traffic of the coast, than the rotati(j;i of crops. Hums knew the man well ; ami to his dying day, he, nothing loath, passcil among his rural compeers by the name of Tarn o' Shaiiter.'- A few words will bring us to the close of Hurns's career at Ellisland. .Mr. I'ani.say of Ochtertyre, happening to pa.ss through Nilhs- '■iTIie above infonnation is derived from Mr. J!. Chambers. (See also note ;t, p. 24.1 LIFE OF EGBERT BURNS. 07 il.tlL-, in 17!»<», met Hiinis ridiiis? rapidly near Closcburn. The i)oet was ()i)li,u;ed to pursue liis piofessional Journey, l>ut sent on Air. i.'auisay an of his farming-stock and other eflects, was, in spite of whisky, a very melancho',, scene. The competition for his chattels (says Allan Cunningham) was eager, each being anxious to secure a memorandum of Hurns's residence among them. It is pleasing to know, that among other "titles manifold" to their respect and grati- tude, Hums, at the suggestion of Air. Uiddcll of Friars' Carse, had superintended the formation of a subscription-library in the parish. His letters to the booksellers on this subject do him much honour: his choice of authors (which business was naturally left to his dis- cretion) being in the highest degree judiciou.s. Such institutions arc now commor, almost universal, indeed, in the rural districts of 98 LIFE OF ROBERT BURNS. .soutliern Scotlaml ; l)ut it h1iou1(1 never he forgotten that Burns was among the first, if not the very first, to set the example. " lie was .so good," .says Mr. Uiddcll, "as to take the whole management of this concern; he was treasurer, lil.u'arian, and censor, to tiur little society, who will long have a grateful sense of hi.s public spirit and exertions for their improvement and information."' Once, and only once, did Burns quit his residence at Ellisland to revisit Kdinburgh. His object was to close accounts with Creech; that business accomplished, he returned imme- diately, and he never again saw the capital. - He thus writes to Jlrs. Dunlop: — "To a man who has a home, however humble and remote, if that home is, like mine, the scene of do- mestic comfort, the bustle of Kdinburgh will soon be a business of sickening disgust — Vain pom]) and glory of tlio world, I liato you. "When I must skulk into a corner, lest the rattling equipage of some gaping blockhead should mangle me in the mire, I am tempted to exclaim — what merits had he had, or what demerits have I had, in some state of pre- existcnce, that he is ushered into this state of being with the sceptre of rule, and the key of riches in his puny fist, and I kicked into the world, the .sport of folly, or the victim of pride? . . . Often as I have glided with humble stealth through the pomp of Prince's Street, it has suggested itself to me as an im- provement on tlie present human figure, that a man, in proportion to liis own conceit of his con. .quence in the world, could have pushed out the longitude of his common size, as a .snail pushes out his horns, or as we draw out a perspective." There is bitterness in this badinage. It may naturally excite some surprise, that of the convivial conversation of so distin- guished a convivlalist, .so few .specimens have been preserved in the memoirs of his life. ' Letter to Sir .Tohn Sinrlair, Burt., in the Statisti- cal Account of Scotland— Varish of Duiiscore. 2 [It is true tliat Burns paid only one visit to Edin- Inu-gh while resident at Ellisland, but he ayain visited tlie .Scottish capital on his leaving the farm, when he remained there about a week, and took farewell of "C.-.rinda," who was on the eve of s.iiling to the West Indies.] The truth seems to be, that those of his com- pauions who chase to have the best mcniorv for such things, happened also to have the keenest relish for his wit and his hnniuiir when exhibited in their coarser phases, .\nion!; a heap of manuscript memoranda with \\liicli I have been favoured, I find but little lliat one couhl venture to present in print: and the following specimens of that little must, for the present, suffice. Agentleman who luid recently returned from the East Indies, where lie had made a lari:c fortune, which he .-showed no great alacrity about spending, was of opinion, it seems, one day, that his company had had enough of wine, rather sooner than they came to that conclu- sion: he ottered another bottle in feeble and hesitating term.s, and remained dallying with the corkscrew, as if in hopes that some one would interfere and prevent further cttusion of Hordcaux. "Sir," ,>*aid IJurns, losing temper, and betraying in his mood something of the old rusticity— -" Sir, you have been in Asia, and for aught I know, on the ]\louiit of Jloriah, and you seem to hang over yonr t(i)i/)lf-/i(ii^ as remorsefully as .Miraliam did over his son Isaac — Conic, sir, to the.sicrificel" At mother party, the society had suflercd considerably from the prosing of a certain well-known provincial Jion' of the first mag- nitude ; and Hums, as much as any of them, overawed, as it would seem, by the rank of the nuisance, had not only subn.ittcd, but condescended to applaud. The grandee, how- ever, being suddenly summoned to another company in the same tavern, liurns immedi- ately addressed himself to the chair, and de- manded a bumper. The president thought he was about to dedicate his toast to the distin- guished absentee: "I give," said the banl. " I give you the health, gentlemen all — of the waiter that called my Lord out of the room. " He often made extempore rhymes the vehicle of his .sarcasm : thus, for example, having heard a person, of no very elevated rank, talk loud and long of some aristocratic festi- vities in which he had the honour to mingle, Hums, when he was called upon for his song, chanted .some verses, of which one has been preserved : — 3 [A coIlo(|niaI term for n Inrge-sizcd li(HU)r measure.] LIFE OF ROBERT BURNS. 99 iHiornieasiire.] (tf lorJly ntciuniiitnnce you bonst, And the aiikes that you (liiieil wl' yestreen, Vf t ail insect's an insect at most, Tlio' it crawl on the curl of a (|uecn. I liclicve I have already iilludetl to Hiirns's custoni of carrying a diamond peiicil with liim ill :ill his wanderings, and constantly einlicl- lisiiiiiir inn-windows and so forth with his cpii^'rams. ( )n one occasion, being storm-stayed ill iiamington, in Clydesdale, lie went to church; and the indiunant beadle, after the cimiii'cgation dispersed, invited the attention of the clergyman to this stanza on the window by which the noticeable stranger liad been sit- ting : As cauld a wind ns ever h\ew-, A caiilil l«irl{, and in't but few ; As catilil a minister's ever spals; Ye'se a' be het or I come Imck. you'll nil Iw hot cro Sir Walter Scott possesses (1829) a tumbler, on wliich are the following verses, written i)y Hums on the arrival of a friend, ^fr. W. Stewart, factor to a gentleman of Xithsdale. Tlic landlady lieing very wroth at what she considered the disfigurement of her glass, a gcntlcniaii present appeased her, by paying down a shilling, and carried off the relic. You're welcome, Willie Stewart, You're welcome, Willie Stewart; There's ne'er a flower that blooms in -May, 'I'liafs half sae welcome's thou art. I'oiiic, bumpers liiKh, express your joy, Tlie bowl we mauii renew it; 'i'lie taiipit-heii fjae brinn her ben, qiiiirt-meiisure 'I'ae welcome Willie Stewart. May foes be strann, ami friends be slack. Ilk action may be rue it; May woman on him turn her back. That wranjjs thee, Willie Stewart. Since we are among such small matters, pcrliaps some readers will smile to hear, that lUirns very often wrote his name on his books tjius— " Robert Burns, Poet;" and that Allan Cunningham remembers a favourite collie at Kllisland having the same inscription on his collar. [.\s supplementary and partly corrective of wliat has gone before we shall give the follow- ing particulars of Kllisland and Hurns's stay there. The farm of I'vUisland is situated on flic banks of the Xith, between five and six miles from Dumfries. When Hums took it it was an uninclosed and unimproved piece of ground, measuring 170 imperial acres; and the poet undertook to pay a rent of fifty pounds for three years, and seventy for the remainder of ^ne lca.se, which extended to four periods of nineteen years, or seventy-six years in all. Mr. Jliller at the same time agreed to allow the poet JC300 for the purpose of building a suitable oiixf&al (suit of farm build- ings) and inclosing tlie land. The crop of that summer was also to be iJurns's, while he was not to be liable to payment of rent till ^iartinmas. 'J'lie poet seems to have commenced his residence on the farm on the l'2th of June, 1788, occupying a small smoky cottage on its outskirts (the abode of the outgoing tenant), while his house was building. His recently wedded Jean at this time remained at ^lauch- line or JIo.s.sgiel, with the one surviving child of four which she had already borno to him. .Vt length, in December, she went to join her husband, ami till their new house was finislied (some months afterwards) they lived at a place called The Lslc, about a mile below Kllisland. The farmstead, to which, while it survives, .some interest must ever be attached, not only as his residence, but as in some measure a creation of his taste, is situated to a poet's wish. Through the centre of a fine alluvial plain skirted by mountains of considerable elevation, the Nith, a broad and copious stream, l)ursues its way to the Solway. The right or west bank here ri.ses in a gravelly precipice about forty feet above the stream, while the opposite bank consists of a low holm or meadow, out of which, about a mile from Kllisland. ri.se the toAvers of Dalswinton. Hurns's farm- buildings were situated near the verge of the precipice or xcaur alluded to, in such a way that, as Mr. Cunningham remarks, their ' ' afternoon shadow fell across the river upon the opposite fields." A common-minded farmer superintending the erection of farm buildings in such a situation, would have placed the dwelling-house with its back to the stream, and its face towards the approach from the public road. Hut Burns caused it to face the river, thoudi this gave it a northerly aspect. Kven in this little arrangement we can sec some- thing characteristic of the poet. The house was a simple parallelogram, of one story in height, about sixty feet long, by eighteen in breadth. 100 LIFE OF KOBEllT BURNS. I i IJcliiiul it 11 quiidriinglo wan forincil by a stable and cow-hoiisu on onu Imiul (cu.st), and a barn (somcwbal too small lor the farm) on the otiier (west), a straw-yard lor cattle being behind tlie one, and a stack-yard at the extremity of the other, and on the left hand as we ai)proa(.di the liouse by it: ordinary access. There is a separate garden a little to the cast; iiut this is said to have been formed since Hurns's lime. From llic front of the house a [latli- way winds down the bank towards a little slip of holm here left by the river, a spot where children rejoice to weave rush-caps and begem the thorn with the gowan, and "lassies use to wash and spread their claitlis," as old .Vllan says. Half- way down the pathway, a copi- ous spring sj)()uts out into a basin, for the supply of llic i'aniily witii water. There is a small separate building at tiie top of the jiath- way; but this was raised by the gentleman who bought the farm from Air. Miller, several years after it had been deserted by Burns. Tlie house itself has a projection towards tlie north, which has also been added since the days of Burns, being emjjloyed as a kitchen. The house built and possessed by the poet, consists expressly of the parallelogram al)ove described, being divided into four apartments, besides sleeping-places under the slates. At the we.st end, occupying the full breadth of the house, but enjoying no fine outlook in any direction, is the best room, s]>encc, ben-end, or by whatever other name it might be e.-dled. A corres])onding room at the east eml, ))artly occupied by beds, was the ])arloiir. or ordinary sitting-room of the poet, the other being re- served for the rece]ition of strangers who re(|uired to be treated with ceremony. The former room has a pleasant window to the cast, commanding a view of the Nitli downwards, and of Dalswinton grounds on the oi>]iosite bank. Between these two rooms is a space divided into two small ai)artments, one of which, adjoining the ordinary sitting-room, was Burns's kitchen, while the other was a bed-room. In this house were born his sons Francis and William, and here he wrote his "Tarn o' Slianter," and some of the best of his songs. William Clark, a respectable old farm-servant, formerly residing at Enrick near Gatehouse, ha>!'-!K). On being hired in the house of one Alexander K'obsoii, who sold ale and sj)irils in the village of Duncow, Kirkmahoe, he wiis treated to a dram, and got a shilling as arlm. /ifiiii!/— that is, earnest-money. Burns kept t'vo men and two women servants; but he in- variably, when at home, took his meals with his wife and family in the little i>arlour. [|}y this we arc to understand that the .serv.mls did not dine with him, as the old fashion was in .'Scotland.] Clark thouaht he was as good a manager of land as the generality of the farnicr.s in the neighbourhood. The farm of Klli>Ian(l was moderately rented, and was su.sceiitibjc of much imi)rovemcnt, had imi)rovement liccn in repute. Burns sometimes visited the neighbouring farmers, and they returned tin compliment, lie kept nine or ten inildi- cows, some young cattle, four horses, and .several pet-sheci) — the latter were great fa- vourites with him. During the winter and si)ring-time, when he was not engaged witli the excise busine.s.s, he occasionally held the ]>l()U'.;h for an hour or so for Clark, and was a fair worknnm. During seed-time Burns mii;lit frc(|uently be seen early in the mornings in tlio fields, with his .sowing-sheet; but as businc.-> often rccpiired his attention from home, he did not sow the whole of his grain, lie was a kind and indulgent master, aud spoke familiarly to his servants, both in the house and out id' it, though, if anything put him out of humcnir, he was "gey gulder.somc for a avcc while;" but the storm was .soon over, and there iK'\or was a word of "ujicast" afterwards. Clark never saw him really angry but once, and it was occasionc'i i)y the careles.sness of one of the women servants, who had not cut the potatoes small enough, ,so that one of the cows had nearly been choked. His looks, gesture, and voice on that occasion were terrible, .-n that William was glad to get out of his sight ; when they met again, he was perfectly calm. When any extra work was done, the men sometimes got a dram; but Clark had lived with masters who were more "Hush" in that Avay to their servants. Clark had no iiesita- tion in declaring that, during the six months he was at Fllisland he never saw his nnister IJFE OF IIOBEIIT BURNS. 101 intoxiciitcd, or incaimhle of tniusacting lii.s (jiilinaiy biisliiuss. in uveiy ■•cnse of tlic word lie was tlio poor man's friuiul. h was rumoured tliat Alexander liobson, in Duneuw, made a lew liushels of malt in a tdandestine way in an old liai'u. Some ijerson, anxious for reward or favour, informed 1 iuriis of the elreunistanees, ;,ud on the following night, rather late, a eard was thrust under Itohson'.s door, intiniatini;' that the exciseman would proliaidy eall at a certain hour next day, — a hint to the poor man to put his malt out of the way. Clark re- collected hearing- liohson'sson reading this eard to a group of villagers, with whom it made I'urns very popular; they unanimously declared liiui to lie ''a kind-hearted man, who would not do anybody liann, if he could help it." Hums, wiien at home, usiially wore a broad blue bonnet, a blue or dral) long-tailed coat, corduroy lireeehcs, dark blue stockings, anped round his shoulders, .sueli as shep- licnls and many otiier jiersons still wear. .Mrs, Burns Avas a good and prudent housewife, kept everything in neat and tidy order, was well liked by the .servants, and provided plenty of wiiolesomo food. IJefore Clark left Kllishmd he was pressed to stay by his master; and when lie came away, liurn.s gave him a eer- titieato of character, besides paying hi.s wages in full, and giving him a shilling as a fairing. According to a recollection of his son Itoberl, the poet gave shelter and sueeoiir at EUisland for about si.K weeks to a poor broken-down sailor, who had come licgging in the extremity of want and wretchedness. The man hiy in an outhouse until he recovered some degree of health and strength, when, being able once more to take the road, he departed, leaving as a token of his gratitude a little model of a ship for the amusement of tiie poet's children. Burns's expectations from EUisland, an has been already seen, ended in disappointment, and in '.'ovember, 1791, having sold oH' his stock, and much useless furniture, and having obtained a better excise ajipointment at Dum- fries, he removed to tliat town with his family: thus abrujitly breakinti' ofl", after a four years' exiieriencc, a lease which was to have lasted lor more than the term of life a.ssigned to man by the psalmist.] CIlAl'TEK VIII. I Diuiifiics :~iutenijiciiUKc ;— holies of ])iciinotiuu : -.lacoliitisni :— Whipgish favour for the French ricvolu- ticiii : -lliiiiis su-spcctcil :— iiiili>crctiouH: — stoiy of tlie cajjlurcil ^'uus:— Kxcisc-lioarils investigation:— r.iinis joins the IJuiiifriis \'(iluMtccrs :— F.kction lialla(ls:-(ira.v ami J''iuiUater on JUnns in Dumfries;— Tlioiiisoii's J/c7ui/iV,s.— corrcspduiluncu :— (.'liloris : — " .Scots wlui hau ":— Cowjier.] The KiiiK!^ in<»t liunilili" si'i'v:im, I *'.ni scari-cly y\yivi- a iniiiutr; IJut 1 am .yours at fiiiilUT time, Or I'l.-e till.' devils in ii.l The four princijial biogra])licrs of our poet. Heron, C'urrie Walker, ami Irving,'- concur in the general statement, that liis moral course, from the time when he settled in Dumfries, was downwards. Heron knew more of the matter personally than any of the others, and his words arc these: — '-In Dumfries, his liissipation became still more deeply liabiiual. He was here exposed, more than in the ' "Tlie al)ove answer to an Invitation was wiittuii cxtciiipore on a leaf torn from liis pocket-hook."— Cn,iiii'!c'.i MSS. - [David Irving in Liivs o/ Seottish Poctn, 1S04.] VOL. I. country, to be .solicited to .share the riot of the dissolute and the idle. Foolish young men, such as writers' apprentices, young sur- geon.s, merchants' clerks, and his brother ex- cisemen, flocked ciigerly about him, and from lime to time pressed him to drink with tliem, that they might enjoy his wicked wit. The Caledonian Club, too, and the Dumfries ami (itilloway Hunt, had occasional meetings at Dumfries after Ihirns came to reside there, aiul the poet was of course invited to share their hospitality, tmd liesitated not to accept the invitation.'' The morals of the town were, ^ [Mrs. Burns took stronp: exception to this passapi', hut Heron's know leiltre of lUirns's convivial friends and tavern ciimpaiiiuiis would he more exact tliau tliat of Mrs. Ijin'ns,] 108 LIFE OF EGBERT BURNS. ill conscqucuec of its becoming so mucii the scene of public aniuscnicnt, not a little cor- rupted, and, though a iiusband and a father, liuruH did not escape suflcriny; b_v the general contamination in a manner which I forbear to describe. In the intervals between his difVcrent fits of iiitcniperancc, he sullcred the keenest anguish of remorse and horrible afllic- tive foresight. His Jean behaved with a degree of maternal and conjugal tenderness and prudence, which made him feel more bitterly the evils of hi.^ misconduct, though they Cv-ild not reclaim him." This picture, dark as it is, wants some dis- tressing shades that mingle in the parallel one by Dr. Carrie; it wants nothing, however, of which truth demands the insertion. That Hums, dissipated enough long ere he went to Dumfries, became still more dissipated in a town than he had been in the country, is certain. It may also be true that his wife had her own particular causes, sometimes, for | dissatisfaction, lint that IBurns ever sunk Into a toper — that he ever was addicted to solitary drinking — that his bottle ever inter- fered with his discharge of his duties as an exciseman — or that, in spite of some transi- tory follies, he ever ceased to be a most afl'ec- tionate husliand — all those charges have been insinuated— and they are all false. His in- temperance was, as Heron says, mjif.-i; his aberrations of all kinds were occasional, not systematic; they were all to himself the sources of exquisite misery in the retrospect ; thcv were the abcrrati(jns of a man whose moral sense was never deadened, of one who encountered more temptations from without and from within, than the immense majority of mankind, far from having to contend against, are even able to imagine; — of one, finally, who prayed for pardon, where alone effectual pardon could be found ; — and Avho died ere he liad reached that term of life up to which the passions of many, who, their mortal career being reuarded as a Avhole, are honoured as among the most virtuous of mankind, have proved too strong for the control of reason. We have already seen that the poet was care- ful of decorum in all tilings during the brief space of his prosperity at Ellisland, and that he btcame less so on many points, as the pros- pects of his farming speculation darkened around liim. It seems to be c(nuilly certain, that he entertained high hopes of promotion in the excise at the period of his rtinioval to Dumfries; and that the comparative reckless- ness of his latter conduct there, was conse- quent on a certain overclouding of these pro- fessional expectations. The case is iiroinllv stated so i)y Walker and Paul; and there are hints to the same eflect in the narrative of 'Jurrie. The statement has no doubt been exagwr- ated, but it has its foundation in truth; and by the kindness of Mr. Train,' supervisor iit (.'astle Douglas, in (ialloway, I shall i)rescntly be enabled to give some details which niiiv throw light on this business. Burns was nnic'i patronized when in I'.dln- burgli by the lb nourable Henry Hrskiiio, Dean cf the Faculty r)f Advocates, and other leading Whigs of the place — much more so, to tin ir honour be it said, than by any of the inlln\viii- ton), his ncighbou'-, Mr. IJiddell of I'rijis' (.'arse, and most of the other gentlemen who showed him special attention, belonged to thr same political jiarly; and on his ivnioval to Humfries it so happened, that some of his immediate sujieriors in the revenue service of the district, and other persons of standing and authority into \vho>e society be was thrown, entertained sentiments of the same description, Hurns, whenever in his letters he talk- serimisly of political matters, unlfo.nily d scribes his early ,lacobiti>m as mere "inattci- of fancy." It may, however, be easily be- lieved, that a fancy like his, long indulged in dreams of that sort, was well jirepared to pass into certain other dreams, which had, as calm men now view the matter, but little in common with them, except that both aliki' involved some feeling of dis.satisfaction with " the existing order of things." Many of the old elements of political di.saiVeclion in Scot- land put on a new .shape at the outbreaking of the French Kcvolntion ; and Jacoliites be- ' f.Tosei)li 'J'rain, a poet and antiiiuariiui of soiuc aliilit.v, but wlio is best remembered as a kind nf It ;j;endar.v and iintiiiuarian jackal to .Sir Walter Kcott, spent twent.v-eiKlit years in tlie service of the excise, and died in 18,52, aged 73. .Several of the "llnds" lie fnrnislicil Sir Walter with have since been proved to l)e " ingenious falirieations of his own." ] LIFE OF ROBERT BURNS. 103 tally ccrtiiiii, )f in'omotion s ninidviii to tivc reckifss- , was I'diise- )(' tliesi' ]iro. e is liniadly lud there arc iian-alivc of iccn cxa^er- 11 truth; ami ■supervisor at lall iireseiitly < wliieh iiia.v hcii in I'.diii- Irskiiie, Dean other leading ; so, to till ir the inlluMi- tratioii. His • of Dalswin- ;11 of Fiiai>- ntleinen whn loiiijed to till' s removal in some of lii> lue serviee of >taiiiliiiu;' anil was thrown, cdcscriiitioii. crs he talks iiifo.nily (1 lere " matter )e easily he- 111!;- inilnlueil jireiiareil to whieh hail. er, but lit lie at lioth aiiki' faction Aviili ^laiiy of the tioii in Seot- oiitlircakiiii;' Jaeoliites lie- laniiii of siiiiiL' . as a kiiiil i>f r Walter Hciitt, ; of the excisr, the "finds" lie e liecn proved ivn."] eaiiie half Jacobins ere they were at all aware ill what the doetriiies of Jaeobiiiism were to end. '1'1'e Wlii.ns naturally re|j;arded the first diiHii of freedom in Fraiiee with feelings of sympathy, delifiht, e.xultation; in truth, few good men of any party regarded it with more of fear than of hope. The general, the ail but universal tone of feeling was favourable to the lirst assailants of the Hourboii despotism; and tiieie were few who more ardently participated iu the general .sentiment of the day than IJurn.s. The revulsion of feeling that took place in this country at large, when wanton atrocities began to .stiiin the course of the French Itevo- hitioii, and Hurke lifted up his powerful voice to deiiomicc its leaders, as, under pretence of love for freedom, the enemies of all .social order, inonility, and religion, was violent in proportion to the strength ami a 'our of the hopes in which good men have been eager to indulge, and cruelly di.saiipointed. The great body of the Whigs, however, were slow to abandon the cause which they had espoused; and altlioiigh tiieir chiefs were wi.>e enough to draw back when they at length perceived that serious [ilaiis for overturiiiiin- the political institutions of our owni country had been hatched and fostered, under tlie pretext of admiring and comforting the destroyers of a foreign tyranny —many of their provincial retainers, having iiltereiiiiiler; society was for a lime shaken to its centre. In the most extravagant dreams of the .lacobites there had alway.s been much to coniinand respect : Iiii^li chivalrous devotion, reverence for old ailections, ancestral loyalty, ami the generosity of romance. In the new species of hostility, everything seemeidenee in J)iinifries. The records ol' I he exeise-ollice are silent, eoncernin.ir the siis]iieions whieh the t'on)ini>- sioners of I lie time certainly took iiji in re.uard to Hums as a iiolitieal ofl'ender — aeeordim; to the iiiiraseolo,t;y of the teii)])estuous jieriod, a tli'iinieritt. in that deiiarlmeni, as then eon- dueted, I am assured tiiat nothing eould have liocn more uidike the usual course of Ihin.^'s, tlian that a syllahle should have heeii set down in writ ins "" such a suliject, unless t lie case had heen one of extremities. That an in(|uiry was instituted, we know from liiirns's own letters — and what the exact termination of in(|iiiry ■was, can no lon,!.;er, it is iirol)al)le,l)e ascertained. Aeeordin,!;' to the tradition of the nei.iilihour- liiod, Hums, Inter (ilin, jiavc .y'reat oH'cnce liy (lemiirrin'4' in a lar.n'C mixed coiiiiiany to the jproposcd toast, "The health of William Pitt ;" and left the room in indimiation, because the siicicly rejected what lie wished to sulistitute, namely, "The health of a greater and u better man, (!corgc Washington." I suppose the warmest admirer of Mr. Pitt's talents and jiolities would liardly venture nowadays to dissent substantially from IJurns's estimate of the eompar.itive merits of these two great men. The name of Washington, at all events, when contemporary jiassions shall have finally sunk into the peace of the grave, will un- (|iicstioiiably have its jilace in the first rank of heroic virtue, — a station which demands tlie exhibition of victory pure and unstained, over temptations and trials extraordinary in kind, as well as strength. Hu* at the time when Hurns. being a servant of Jlr. IMtt's government, was guiltv of this indiscretion, it is obvious that a great deal "more was meant than reached the ear." In tlie poet's own correspondence we have traces of another occurrence of the same sort. Uurns thus writes to a gentleman at who.se table he had dined tlie day before :* — " I was, 1 know, drunk last night, but 1 am sober this 1 (Letter to Samuel Clark, Jan., Dumfries, dated '• Huiulay morning" (January, 1794).] morning. l''rom the expressions ('a|)taiii made use of to me, had 1 had noliody's well'iirc to care for but my own, we should certainly have come, according to the manner of ijio worhl, to the necessity of murdering one another about the business, '{"he words were such as generally, 1 believe, end in a brace of pistols; l)ut I am still ideased to think that I cjid not ruin the peace and welfare of a wiio and children in a drunken siiiiabble. Kaiihcr, you know that the report of certain political opinions being mine, has already once bci'ure brought me to the brink of destruction. 1 dread lest last night's business nniy be inter- jireted in the same way. Ymi, I beg, will lake care to prevent it. I tax your wi>li for Mrs. Hurns's welfare with the task of waiting on ever^. gentleman who was jiresent to slate this to liim; and, as you please, show this letter. What, after .all, Avas the obnoxious toast? Mill/ our micccis in t/ii- /ircsciif nuir hf ii/iiiil lo the judke of our ciiiin(—a, toast that the most outrageous frenzy of loyalty caiiiiol object to." Hurns has been commended, sincerely by some, and ironically by others, for putting up with the treatment which lie received on this occasion, without calling Captain to account the next morning; and one critic [Sir W. Scott], the last, 1 am sure, that would have wislied to say anything unkindly about the poet, has exi'ilek\ Faiilui', lain imliiii'al y oiict- 1h Inro stniclioii. I nay l)u intcr- I l>t% uill njiir wi.sh lor k of Avail iiii; sent to state c, show this le oliiioxiiiiis /•(.<( lit ii;ir III' a toast tliat lyalty cannot sincerely hy ir ]Mittinu- {\\< eived on this in to (1 one critic e, tiiat Mould kinilly alioiit in tiie breast ;■ that liurus lis life, tliose urs, vhicli, it irn.s's orijiinal to act njion. •ustcd to tlic . to the ease •itatioii. >'o that liohert I poet's toast ire can he no s given to it as little that coniniission Lo resent tiie his right to 1 a quil)l)]e. '-sn))stitiito of Life of Itvbeit iiuriis, no (|iieslion, was guilt)' of iin[Milite- iicsM as well as imliscrelion, in oU'ering any such toasts as liicse in inixctl company; liul that siich toasts .-lionld Jiave heen considereti asallaciiinutany grave suspicion tohischaiueter as a loval siilijcct, is a eir<',inislance which can only lie accounted for liy lefcrence to the cxairwrated slate of political feelings oli all mailers, and anvng all descriptions of men, at I hat melancholy [jeriod of disalleclion, dis- trust, anil disunion. Who, at any other than that laincnlaliictinii', would ever havedrcaincd (if erecting the drinking, ordeelining lo drink, the health of a particular minister, or the approving, or disajiproviiig, of a particular measure of govcrnnicnt, into the test, of a man's loyalty to his king? The poet (. ralilic has, in one of his masterly sketches,' given us. perhai's, a more vivid delineat ion of the jarrings and collisions which were at this period the pcrpelual curse of society, th.ui the rcadci' may heahle to lind elsewhere, lie has p;iinte(l the sturdy Tory mingling aecideiitally in :; comiiaiiy of those who W(udd not, like lUuns. drink ••the licalth of William I'itt:" and suf- fcviiig sternly, and sulkily, under the inlliction (ifllicir, lo liiiii, horrihle doctrines Now, iliiiMcr past, no longer lie KU)ii'iest lli-i stroiit,' (IMillaiin'il. I'nr, liink I lie licinl, aniazcil, on every side, 111 r iliuieli iiisulteil, ami her jiriests lielicd, Tlic laws rcvik'il, the ruliiiK jMiwcrs aliased, 'riic land deriiliil, and her foes excused — 111' lieard and |H>Miler d. W liat lo men so vilti Sliiinld lie Ins language? I'ur his thrcateniii!; st,\ le 'llie.v were too many, il his s|ieeeh weiu mi eli, Tliey Wduld ilespise Riich jiooi' attemiits to speak. 'I'iierc wel'c reliiiiuers of each ditfereilt sort. KiiL'S to the laws, the |iriesthood, anil the emnl ; Siiiiie on tlieir favmnite plans alniio intent, Siinie jmrely aiiyry and malevolent; Tlic rash were pioiid to hlame their ciiuntry's laws. 'I'lie vain to seem supimrters of (( caiisi: ; ')ae called fur iliant;e that he would ilrend to see. .Aiiiither sij;heil fur (Jallie lilierty ; Anil mnnliers joinini; with the forward crew, I'or MO one rea.son -lint that rnany do-- llow, s.'iid tlij .Instiee. can this timilde rise - Tills sliame and pain, from creatures 1 ilesjilse'.' - .\nd he has also [ireseiiled the eliaini>iim of loyalty as surrounded with kindred spirits, and amazed with the audacity of an intrusive I [rrahhe's Tah-s: T. The nnmli Orators.] democrat, with whom he has now no niof" cause to keep terms than such gentlemen as "Captain " were wont to do with li'oliert llurns. Is It nut known, anreiil, eonlirm d, ennfessd, That of all peoples we ali> Ki'Vern d liest .' .And live there tlmKc in such all-Kloriniis slali', Truitors priiteeteil In the land they hate, Itehels still wairiiiK with the laws that ;jlve To them siilisistenee'/ - Vc», such wretehes live I The laws that nursed them they hlasplicnie; liiU laws Their, '^overelHu'sulory- and their com dry's cause: And who their moiilli, their master llend'^ and »ho llelielliuirH oracle '^-Vou, caititf, you ! — O could our country from her cuhnIs expel Such flies, and nuurlsli those that wish her well ! This her ndld laws foiliid, Imt irr may still Krom UK ejeet them hy our sovel'cimi will- Tills let us do . . fie h|ioke, and, seated with his former air, l.oiik'd his full self, and lllled his ample chair; T'lii'k one full Immper to eai h favuurite cause, And dwelt all nl^iht mi iMilities iniil laws, \N itli hl^di applanilint{ voice, which gained him hli;h applause. 15nrns, eager (d' temper, loud of t*>ne, and with declamation and sarcasm eipially at com- mand, was, we may easily believe, the most haled of human beings, because the most dreaded, among the jirovincial liutMl iimlei tlie onliTrt of a Kiiiicriiiteiicleiit, residiiii: in Aiiniiii, will) exerted liiiii>eir/.eaIoiisly in inter- eepliii;,' the lie cent "f llie simi^'^'linj,' ve.vtels. (»n tlie "J'th Feliriiiuy, ii mispieious loolvinj,' liriif wiiH (iineovered ii» the Solwiiy l-'ritii, and IJurns WHS one of tlie [nirty \thoni the superin- tendent eondiK'ted to waleii her motions. She (tot Into kIiuIIow water the day afterwanlM, and tlie ollifors were enaliled to diseover tiial her erew were ninnerous, armed, and not liltely to yield without a Htniwle. Lcwars, a brother cxeiseman, an intimate friend of our poet, wa.> aceordiniily sent to Dnmfries fur a Kiii"'"l «•' •Irairoons; the suiicrintendent, .Mr. Crawford, jiroeeeded himself on a similar orr.md to Eeekfeihan ; and nurn.i was left with some men under his orders, to wateh the l>rijr, and prevent landing or eseape. Krom the private journal of one of the oxeisenien (now in my hands), it appears that H\irns manifested con- sideralile impaticnec while thusoeeupied, lieinn left for many hours in a wot salt-marsh, with a fon-o which he knew to he inadecpiate for the purpose it was meant to fullil. One of his eomrades hoarini; him alniso his friend Lcwars in pai'tieular, for heinir slow ahout his journey, the man answered, that he also wished the devil had him for his pains, and that IJurns, in the meantime, would do well to indite a sont; (ipon the sluttii'ard : Hums said noihinL", hut after taking a few stride;; hy himself amonir the reeds and shinu'le, rejoined his party, and ehanted to them the well-known ditty, the '■ Deil's awa' wi' the I'^xeiseman."' Lewars arrived shortly afterwards with his dragoons; and lJurns, jjutting himself at their head, waded, sword in hand, to the hrijjr, and was the first to hoard her. The crew lost heart, and Hultinlttcd, though their nunihers were greater than thi>se of the assailing force. The vessel was eondemned, and, with all her arms and stores, sold by auction ne.\t day at Dumfries : upon which occasion, Hiirns, wiiosc i)ehaviour iiad been highly commended, thought fit to purchase four carronades, by Avay of trojihy. l>ut his glee went a step further; — he scut the guns, with a letter, to the French Convention, requesting that body to accept of them as a mark of his admiration and respect. The prc- 1 (.Sec note to tlie " Deil's awa' wi' the Exciseninii. "j selli, and its aceoinpailimcilt, were illlererpliil at the custom-house at jiover; and here, there a|ipeai's to be little room to doubt, was the principal eirciimstanee that drew on IIiiriiK the notice of his jealous superiors.'-' We were not, it is true, at war with l''riiiii(.; but every one knew and felt that we were in be so el e long; and nobody can prelenil llim Itiirns was not guilty, on this occasion, uf n most absurd and preHuuiplnous breach of decorum. When he learned the inipre>>ioii thai Ii.kI been created by his eoiidiiel, and its priili;il,||. (•ei|Uences, he wrote to his paticm, ,\ir. (li'aham of Fintry, the following h'ller: — " Decemhf); ITiij. "Siii, — I have been >iir|irise(l, eonfoumli .1. and distraeteil, by .Mr. .Mitchell, the eulbvini, telling me, that lie has received an order Iniin your board loin(|uire into my political eondiict, and blaming me as a person di.'-afrecled tn government. Sir, you are a husband and a father. You know what you W(Uild feel to sec the much-loved w ife of your bosom, and ymu- helpless, prattling little ones, tiirnei I adrift iiiin the world ; degraded and disgraced fioiu n situation in which they had been respeclalilc and respected, and left almost williout llic necessary support of a nii>erable e\i.-teiii'r. .Mas! sir, must I think that such .soon will be my lot? and from the damned dark in>iinia- lioiis of hellish, groundless en\y, loo? I be- lieve, sir, I may aver it, anil in the >ii;hi of Omniscience, that I wouM not tell a delibemtc falsehood, no, not though even worse horrors, if worse can be than those I iiave mentioncil, hung over my head. .\iul I say, th;it the allegation, whatever villain has made it, is a sjTlioi'e arc some tlilnns iu ri'naitl to this stor.v ni' tlie «nii.s that rci|iiire cleaiiiin U|'. Tlie Fieiicli ('mi- veiitinii (lid not exist till Scptenilier, l"iV2, so that tile caiiiiiiades if dispiitilied at olice would lie sent to the Legislative Asseiiilil.v, or the.v must have leiiiaiiii'l for nearly six niniitlis in liurnHs jiossessioii liefoiv he foolisldy sent tliem to the later liody. The iirivate journal ii'ioted liy l.oikhait eiiii hardly he siiiiposiil to have contaiiu'd any statement as to l;miis's sending theiiiotf and their iiiteree|)tioii at l>over; tliisappeais to rest entirely on the imsiipported evideme of .losejih Train, liurns in a letter totiiahani of l''intiy dated .Ith .Ian. 17l«, j.'ive» minute details of his conduct as one siLSpeeted of disalfeetioii to pivern- nient, hut does not make the sliiihtcst reference to any such episode as the allej;ed present of kuiis to the Frencli. See the letter in its projier place. i LIFE OF RonEKr mruNs. 107 fi' llllrr>'i|itiil 1 1 lii-'iv, ilicix. 'iilit, \\n^ I In; I'W nil lliilii, s. - Willi i''nilKV; itt wo wore to invlciul iliiii IICCa>il)|l, 111 ;| IIH liM'inli III ion iliui li.ul I il-< prolialili. |iali'iiii, Mr, lilk'l-; -- ffiiihi'i; 17!'J. , ('oIiI'iMMkIi'iI. the ccillci'iiir. Ill iinltT IVdiii Ileal roiiiiiii;!, li.siU'fi'lid tii isliaiKJ ami :i iM li'd In Mu iiiii, and viiiir U'll aili'il'l iiiln ■acL'd IVdiii a n rcsjii'clalijc williDUi I III.' do I'xisti'iici'. A\ soon will dark insinua- , liio? I lie- ilio >iulii (if II adclilicrato lorsc horrors, c nK'iitionL'd, ^ay, tlnit tln' iniidu il, is a tntllis Stnrvoi 111' KlllJlll (nil- V'.VJ, SI. that till' ulil III' hint til linvi' ii'iiialiiiil KSillll IlL'fol't' llf . The iirivatc ly lie sniiliiisiil 'iiiriis's Hriiiliii',' .')•; tliisaplK'ais il cvicUiiri' llf iiliaiii of i'iiitiy ili'tailH of Ills iiiii to piverii- ■it n'ft'rt'iii'c til I'lit of f;nns tn itr iiliici'. II,., To the nritiHlii'oiiKtitution, on IJcvolutloii ] priinilili'^ "I'^'i ""''•' "'.^' '''"'• ' '"" ""'^' di'voull.v ultailu'd, Voii, Mir, liavo Ih'oii niinli mid KOiierouMy mj IViond. liciiveii knows lii.w warinl.v I liavc I'tll the otiliiciition, and liuw malil'ully I havf thanked yon. Korlnni', bir, liiiH inude ycni iiowerful, and me iniiiotent; has ^iviii yon ]iatronai;e, and niu deiifiidenee. I \Miiilil not, lor my siiiule self, eall on yonr hiiinanily; were siu'li my insular, nneoiineetcd biliialion, I wonid desiiise the tear that now .-.wi'lls in my eye; I einild hruvc mi.Hl'ortiine ; 1 I'oiild fare rnin; tor at the worst, 'death's tlioiisand doors stand open.' Itiit, ^^ood (iod! the tender eoiu-eniM tliat I have mentluncd, tiio I'laiins and ties that I sec at this moment, and leil around me, how they unnerve emirate, aiid wither resolution I To your |iatrona,u;o, as a man of .some Renins, you iiave allowed me aelaiiii; ami your esteem, as an honi'st man, I know is my dui'. To these, sir, permit mo to appeal. I!y tlie>e may I ailjnro you to .save me IVoiii that misery which threatens lo over- whelm me; and whieli, with my latest lircath I will say it, I have not deserved." nil the 'Jd of .lannary, 17'.i:!, a week or two afierwards, we find him writing to Mrs. hiiiilop in these terms:— (The i;ood lady had heen od'erinK him some interest with the e.Ni'isc hoard, in the view ol'promotion.) " .Mr. ('. ' can lie of little service to me at jiresent; at lca.il, I should be shy of apidyinu'. I eaniiol pii^^ilily lie settled as a supervisor for several years. I must wait the rotation of lists, &e. Hoside.s, some envious malieions devil has r.iised a little demur on my political principles, and 1 wi>h to let that matter settle liefore I oil'er myself too mneli in the eye of my superiors. [ have set lieneeforiha seal on my lips, as to these unlucky polities; hut to you I must hrcathc my sentiments. In this, as in everythini!: else, I .shall show the nndisuuised emotions of my soul. War, I deprecate: misery and rnin to thousands are in the Idast tliat announces the destructive demon. 15ut '[Mr. Cni'lit't, Kciieral supurvLsor of excise, Etiiii- liiiinli.] -!.\li-. .Scott Doiiiilns states tlint tlio iiiLssiii}; iiart of tills letter was liamlt'ii to Ciiirie markeil liy Oilhert r.ariis, " liiteiniH'iate— politics." Tliat eilitor, after ilciiliiif; with it " jiKlicloiisly " liy way of ileletion and interpolation, inserted it among the correspoiiilcnce, "The remainderof til i. letter, "suyHCromek, " lias heen torn away l>y >onie liarlarons hand. " I can have no doulit that it , p. -24(1), that 'to teli the where it erroneously appears nmler date Jan. n, 17'.I2, instead of 1703. It will ho fouiiil in its pro])er iilaee in tills edition, dated Dec. 31st, 17!)l', .January 2, and .laiuiaiy 5, I7'.).'i.l " Qiiiiiiciiij Jteview for February, 1SI)9. ■• I.Note to .Mr. liiddell on one of his Jacobite songs — ".Strathallan's Lament."] 108 LIFE OF ROBERT BURNS. ! ! uiiittcr of fact, except wlicii my passions were liojited I)}' some accicleiitiil cause, my Jacol)iiisiii was merely by way of rire la Ofii/atc/li:' Tlie same enthusiastic ardour of disposition swayed lliirns in Ins choice of political tenets, when the country Avas anitated i)y revolutionary principles. That the poet should have chosen the side on which high talents were most likely to procure celehrlty; that he to whom the fastidious distinctions of society were always odious, should have listened with com- placence to the voice of French philosophy, which denounced them as usurpations on the rights of man, was precisely the thing to be expected. Yet we cannot but think, that if ills superiors in the excise department hail tried the experiment of soothing rather than irritating his feelings, they mi_lit have spared themselves the ., to which I have had access, 1 have great doubts as to some of the principal facts assumed in the eloquent statement. I liave befire me. for example, a letter of Mr. Findlater, formerly collector at Glasgow, wlio was, at the period in question, llurns's immeiliate superior in the Dumfries district, in which that very re- spectable person distinctly says: — "I may venture to assert, that when IJurns was accused of a leaning to democracy, and an iiKpiiry into uis conduct took jilace. he was subjected, in conse(iuence thereof, to no more than per- haps a verbal or ■ '.ate caution to be more circumspect in future. Neither do I luljrvo his [)romotion was thereby aflecled. as lias been stated. That, had he lived, would, I have everj' reason to think, have gone on in the usual routine. His good and steady frinnl, Mr. (iraham, would have attended to this. What cause, therefore, was there for depress mi of spirits on this account? or how slKuihl ho have been hurried thereby to a premature grave? 1 never .siw his .spirit fail till he was borne down by the pressure of disease ami bodily weakness; ami even then it wmild occasionally r-vive, and like an expiring lamp. emit bright ila.-^hes to the last."' When the war had fairly broken out. a bat- talion of volunteers was formed in Dumfries, and Burns was an original mendjcr of the coqjs. It is very true that liis accession was objected to- by some of his neighbours; Imt these were overruled by the gentlemen who took the lead in the business, and the poit soon became, as might have been expectid, the greatest possilde favourite with his brothers in arms. His commanding officer. Colour] De I'eystev, attests his zealous discharge iness, ii would be insanity to abandon for an untried visionary theory." This surely is not the language of one of those who then said and sung broadly and boldly, Of oM tliiuKS all are over olil ; of (xood tilings none are tiooil enon^li; We'll show that we can help in fianie A woihl of otlier stufl.'i .\s to the delicate and intricate question of Parliamentary Keform — it is to be rcnieiii- bcred that Mr. Pitt advocated that measure - .Mr. Tiray removed from the school of liinnfrics to the Hiyli Sehool of Edinburgh, in wliieh eminent seminary lie for nuniy years laboured with (listin- KUished sneeess. lie tlicn lieeame professor of Latin in the institution nt lielfast, and is now |1S'J!)] in hc.ly orders, and a chaplain of the East India Company in the presidency of lJond)ay. [He died in ]ndia> 1830.] ii Wordsworth's "Rob Roy." LIFE OF EGBERT BURNS. Ill at the outset of his career, and never aban- doned the principle, altiiough the events of his lime were too well fitted to convince him of tiie inexpediency of making any farther attempts at carrying it into practice ; and it is also to be considered that Burns, in his hiunbie and remote situation, \vx- much more likely to seize right principles, than to judge of the safety or expediency of carrying them into eft'ect. The statement about the newspaper, refers to Jlr. Perry o the Moriiiiirf C'hronkic, who, at the suggestion of Mr. Jliller of Dalswinton, made the proposal referred to, and received for answer a letter which may be seen in the (I'cncral Correspondence of our poet, and the tenor of which is in accordance with what Mr. (iray has said. Jlr. Perry afterwards pressed Burns to settle in London as a regular writer for his paper, and the poet declined to do so, alleging, that however small, his excise ap- jiointmcnt was a certaintj-, which, in justice ti) his family, he could not think of abandon- ing.* In conclusion, Burns's ab.stinence from the political clubs, and afhliatcd societies of that disastrous period, is a circumstance, the im- portance of Avhicli will be appreciated by all who know anything of the machinery by which the real revolutionists of the era designed, and endeavoured to carry their purposes into exe- cution. Burn.i, after the excise inquiry, took care, no doubt, to avoid similar ■••rapes; but he had no reluctance to meddle largely and zealously in the squabbles of country politics and con- tested elections; and thus, by merely espous- ing, on all occasions, the cause of the Whig candidates, kept up very effectually the spleen which the Tories had originally conceived on tolerably legitimate grounds. Of his political verses, written at Dumfries, hardly any speci- mens have as yet (1S-J9) appeared in print; it would be easy to give many of them, but per- hai)s .some of the persons lashed and ridiculed are still alive — their children certainly arc so. (.(nc of the most celebrated of these effusions, and one of the most quotable, was written on a desperately contested election for the Duni- fri district of boroughs, between Sir James Johnstone of Westerhall, and Mr. Miller, the ' Tliis is stated on the authority of JInJor ^nller. younger, of Dalswinton; Burns, of course, maintained the cause of his patron's family. There is much humour in THE FIVE CAELINES. There were five C'arlines in tlie .soutli, tlicy fell upon a scheme, To send a lad to Luiniuu town t(j bring them tidings linnie ; Nov only bring them tidings lianie, but do their errands there, And nibliiis gowd and honour baith might be that laddie's share. purh-ips There was JIaggie by the lianks o' Nitli,'- a dame wi' pride eneugh ; And .Marjory o' tlie Monylochs,'' a carline auld and tengli ; And Idlnkin Hess o' Anninid.ile,< that dwelt near Sol- way side ; And whisky Jean that took her gill in Galloway sae wide; 5 And black Joihi frac Crichton Peel," o' gipsy kith and kin, Five wighter carlines war na fotui the south countrie witliin. &'J. &c. [See the poem in its proper place.] The ■ibovc is far the best humoured of these productions. The election to which it refers was carried in !Mr. Miller's favour, but after a severe contest, and at a very heavy expense. These political conflicts Avere not to be mingled in with impunity by the chosen laureate, wit, and orator of the district. He himself, in an unpublished piece, .speaks of the terror excited by Biuns's venom, when lie diiis in gall ninnix'd his eager pen, And pours his vengeance in the burning line; and represents his victims, on one of these electioneering occasions, as leading a choral shout that His heresies in church and state, iliglit well award him Muir and Palmer's fate.' But Avhat rendered him more and more the object of aversion to one set of people, was sure to connect him more and more strongly 2 Dumfries. 3 Loehmaben. ■• Annan. 6 Kirkcudbright. « .SaiKiuhar. ■ [From the "Epistle from Esopus to Maria," first published in Cunningham's Sums, 1834.] 112 LIFE OF EGBERT BURNS. < I with the passions,' and, nnfortnnatcly for himself and for I's, with tlie plcasnres of the other; and wc liavc among many confessions to the same pnrpose, the following, which I quote as the sliortest, in tme of the poet's letters from Dumfries to Mrs. Dunlop. " I iim better, but not quite free of my complaint (he refers to the palpitation of heart). You must not think, as you seem to insinuate, that in my Avay of life I want exercise. Of that I have enough ; but occasional hard drinking i.s the devil to me. " He knew well what he was doing whenever he mingled in such debauch- erics: he had, long ere this, described himself as parting "with a slice of his constitution" every time he was guilty of such excess. This brings us back to a subject on which it can give no one ploasurc to expatiate. As has been already sufliciently intimated, the statements of Heron and Currie on this head, still more those of 3Ir. Walker and Dr. Irving, are not to be received without considerable deduction. Xo one of these biographers appears to have had any considerable inter- course with Burns during the latter years of his life, which they have represented in such liin,^- hy its rai.iility, or amusing l.y its wild orijiiuality, and grotesque, yet natural I'diiiUinations, but never, within my obser- vation, disgusting by its grossness. In his iniiiiiiiiif hours 1 never saw him like one sulli'iing from the efleets of last night's intem- iicraufe. lie aivpeared then clear and un- t'ldiided. He was the eh^juent advocate of linniaiiity, justice, and political frfrJom. From liis paintings, virtue appeared more lovely, and piety assumed a more celestial luieu. While his keen eye was pregnant with fancy and feeling, and his voice attuned to the very passion which he wished to commu- nicate, it would hardly have been possible to conceive any being more interesting and de- light liil. 1 may likewise add, that to the very end of his life, reading was his favourite amuse- ment. 1 have never known any man so inti- iiKitely accpiainted with the elegant Ihiglish authors, lie seemed to have the poets by heart. The prose authors he could quote either in tiicir own words, or clothe their ideas in langiia'ie more beautiful than their own. Nor was there ever any decay in any of the powers of his mind. To the last day of his life, his Jiulgment, his memory, his imagination, were fresh and vigorous, as when he composed the 'Cottar's Saturday Night.' The truth i.s, that I5urns was seldom uito.vicafcd. The drwiikard.-ioon becomes besotted, and is.shunned even by the convivial. Had he been so, he coidd not long have continued the idol of every party. It will be freely confessed, that the hour of enjoyment was often prolonged beyond the limit marked by prudence; l)ut wliHi man will venture to aflirm, that in situ- ations where he wa.s conscious of giving so nnich pleasure, he could at all times ha^. listened to her voice? ' ' Tlie men with whom hegenerally associated, were not of the lowest order. He numbered among his intimate friends, many of the most rc.-peetable inhabitants of Dumfries and the vicinity. Several of those were attached to him by ties that the hand of calumny, busy as it was, could never snap asunder. They admired the poet for his genius, and loved the man for the candour, generosity, and kindness i' lii- nature. His early friends clung to him tlnough good and bad report, with a zeal and fidelity that prove their disbelief of the nuilicious stories circulated to his disadvantage. Among them were some of the most distin- guished characters in this country, and not a lew females, eminent for delicacy, taste, and genius. They were proud of his friendship, and cherished him to the last moment of his existence. He was endeared to them even by his misfortunes, and they still retain for his memory that aftectionate veneration which virtue alone inspires."* Part of Jlr. Gray's letter is omitted, only because it touches on subjects, as to which 5Ir. Findlater's stiitement must be considered as of not merely siiflicient, but the very highest authority. " My connection Avitli liobcrt Burns," say.s that most respecliible man,^ "commenced immediately after his admission into the e.vcise, and continued to the hour of his death.'' In all tlmt time, the superintendence of his be- haviour, as an officer of the revenue, was a brancli of my especial province, and it may be supposed I would not be an inattentive observer of the (jcwral conduct of a man and a poet, so celebrated by his countrymen. In the former capacity, he was exemplary in his attention, and was even jealous of the least imputation on his vigilance : As a proof of which, it may not be foreign to the subject to quote a part of a letter from him to myself, in a ease of only seemhxj inattention. 'I know, sir, and regret deeply, that this business glances with a malign aspect on my character as an officer; but, as I am really innocent in the afl'air, and as the gentleman is known to be an illicit dealer, and particularly as this is the siiujlc instance of the least shadow of carelessness or improiiricty in ' ny conduct as an officer, I shall be peculiarly unfortunate if my character shall fall a sacrifiec to the dark mananivres of a smuggler.' This of itself allbrds more than a presumption of his attention to business, as it cannot be supposed he would have written in such a style to me, but from the imi)ulse of a conscious rectitude in this department of his duty. Indeed, it was not till near the latter end of his days that there was any falling ofl' in this i-espeet ; and ' Letter in llr. Peterkin's preface, j>x>. 93-05. - Ibid. p. 9!)-9(i. 3 Mr. Findlater watched Ijy Buruii the uight l)efore he died. 114 LIFE OF ROBEET BURNS. ! !i I (': I I III this WU.S amply accounted for in the pressure of disease and acciimulating iiifirniities. I will further avow, that I never saw him, which was very frequently while he lived at EUisland, and still more so, almost every day, after he removed to Dumfries, but in hours of business he was quite himself, and capable of discharging the duties of his oHice : nor was he ever known to drink by himself, or seen to indulge in the use of li(iuor in a forenoon. ... 1 have seen liurns in all his various phases, in his convivial moments, in his sober moods, and in the bosom of his fomily ; indeed I believe I saw more of him than any other individual had occasion to see, after he became an excise- officer, and I never beheld anything like the gross enormities with whicli he is now charged. That when set down in an evening with a few friends whom he liked, he was apt to prolong the social hour beyond the bounds Avhich pru- dence would dictate, is unquestionable ; but in his family, I will venture to say, he was never seen otherwise than as attentive and att'ection- ate to a high degree." These statements are entitled to every con- sideration : they come from men altogether incapable, for any purpose, of Avijfully stating that wliicli they knew to be untrue. Yet we are not, on the other hand, to throw out of view altogether the feelings of partial friend- ship, irritated by exaggerations such as called forili these testimonies. It is scarcely to be doubted that J)r. Currie and Professor Walker took care, ere they penned their painful pages, to converse and correspond Avilh other persons than the enemies of the deceased poet. Here, then, as in most other cases of similar con- troversy, the fair and equitable conclusion would .seem to be, "truth lies between." To whatever Rurns's excesses amount' • they were, it is obvious, and that frequently, the subject of rebuke and remonstrance even from his own dearest friends — even from men who had no sort of objection to potations deep enough in all conscience. That such rcitri- mands, giving shape and form to the thoughts that tortured his own bosom, should liavc been received at times with a strange mixture of remorse and indignation, none that have con- sidered the nervous susceptibility and haughti- ness of IJurns's character, can liear with sur- prise. But this was only wlien the good advice was oral. No one knew better than he how to answer the written homilies of sueh persons as were most likely to take the freedom of admonishing him on points of such delieacv; nor is there anything in all his correspondence more amusing than his reply to a certain .solemn lecture of William Nicol.^ the .siine exemplary schoolmaster who "brewed the peck o' maut which Itol) and Allan cauiu to prec. . . . "O thou, wisest among the wi.se, meridian blaze of prudence, full moon of discretion, and chief of many counsellors! how infinitely is thy puddle-headed, rattle- headed, wrong-headed, round-headed slave indebted to thy supcreminent goo(lne