THE LIBRARY OF THE UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LOS ANGELES THE CONTEMPORAillES OF BUENS, AND TWE MORE KECENT POETS OF AYRSHIRE, WITH SiLi©Til®5!ili ^E@m Y¥\Em WEOTrOMigio PUBLISHED BY HUGH PATON, ADAM SQUARE, EDINBURGH; AND SOLD BY W. S. ORR & CO., PATERNOSTER ROW, AND SMITH, ELDER & CO., 65 CORNHILL, LONDON, M.PCCC'.XL. PREFACE. The intervention of unforeseen circumstances has delayed the completion of the present volume consider- ably beyond the period contemplated ; and the Editor is afraid that the abstraction of his attention, by other avocations, may have operated still more injuriously in detracting from the interest of the work. It remains, however, for the public to judge how far he has fallen short of expectation. Whatever opinion may be pronounced by the critical world, one thing in connexion with his labours affords him the greatest satisfaction, and that is, the counten- ance and aid he has experienced in quarters where he least expected favour, while the numerous friendships they have been the means of forming, will ever be regarded as amongst the happiest circumstances of his life. He would have had much pleasure in acknow- ledging more directly the extent to which he has been indebted to his friends and contributors, but he does not feel that he would be warranted in doing so in every instance, and it M'ould be invidious to particularize. IV PREFACE. Well aware that his task has not been executed with all the industry and ability he could have wished, the Editor is fully sensible that the field over which lie has travelled has not been assiduously gleaned ; and he has to ai:)olof>-izc for the omission of several names, both amongst the Contemporaries of Burns and the More Recent Poets of Ayrshire. Such omissions, however, are in some measure unavoidable in a work of this kind ; but should a second edition be called for, ample oppor- tunity will then be afforded of doing justice to all. As it is, the Editor flatters himself that the under- taking has not been altogether fruitless ; and, faulty as it may be in execution, he feels a degree of honest pride in having been the means of adding, however unwor- thily, to the stock of national biography. The omission of the name of John Galt, in a A^olumc devoted to the poetical literature of Ayrshire, may appear somewhat unaccountable ; but the explanation offered accords with the design of the work, which was chiefly intended to rescue the more humble and obscure votaries of the Muse from oblivion. The au- thor of the " Ayrshire Legatees" is widely known to fame ; and the principal events of his life are already l)efore the world from his own pen. Unwilling to occupy the time of the reader with needless preliminary matter, it may only be farther re- marked, that in glancing over the following pages, one of the princi])al objects of the work should be steadily borne in mind ; and that was, not c)nly to give biogra- PREFACE. V phical sketches of the authors, but to present a varied and comprehensive selection from their writings. This became the more necessary, that many of the vokimes, especially of the Contemporaries of Burns, are unknown to the generality of readers, and are not likely ever to have the honour of a reprint. The length of the poeti- cal extracts, in some instances, which would otherwise have been improper, will thus appear fully warranted in the scope and spirit of the publication. June 1840. CONTENTS. THE CONTEMPORARIES OF BURNS. John Lapraik, the Bard of Jliiirkirk i 17 Jeanie Glover, authoress of " O'er the Moor amang the Heather",„v-..„~-»~-~-./~, 34 David Sillar, the early Friend and Correspondent of Burns -™„,™.„^,.„,„„„„„,.^„, 38 William Simpson, of Ochiltree ,^,„^,,„„..^,,. , 64 Janet Little, the Scottish Milkmaid-^™ „™,„,,™,,,™„w,„~-,™, 78 Gavin TurnbuU, Poet and Comedian. (See also Appendix) 92 Isobel Pagan, Muirkirk ^,..^ ,..,.. ..^.„ , 113 George Campbell, author of " Poems on Several Occasions" , 123 James Fisher, the Blind M usician >,^^<>^,>^^ ^ 134 Thomas Walker, the Poetical Tailor ,....,, . ,™,^ ,~_~-- 142 Alexander Tait, the Tarbolton Poet,^^ „ 142 Gavin Dalziel, author of " John and Saunders, a Pastoral on the Downfall of THE MORE RECENT POETS. .lohn Burtt, author of " Horse PoeticiE ; or the Recreation of a Leisure Hour,"&c. ™ ^ \m John Kennedy, author of " Fancy's Tour with the Genius of Cruelty, and other Poems," &c. -— . — — ^„._ . — ...„„.,.,. ...,, 181 James Thomson, author of the " Ayrshire Melodist, or Select Poetical Effusions" 201 John Goldie, the Original Editor of the Paisley Advertiser ^,^ 213 John Goldie, the Poetic Seaman „^^^,^^.,., ,.... >„ 232 Joseph Train, author of " Strains of the Mountain Muse," &c „-™ 259 Sir Alexander Boswell, Bart., of Auchinleck, author of " Auld Gudeman, ye're a Drucken Carle," &c ^ .„ , — .^^^ ,^^ ~ 305 IV CONTENTS. Archibald CrawfurJ, autlior of the " Tales of my Grandmother," &c. Robert Hetrick, the Dalmellington Poet John Wright, author of " The Retrospect," &c. Hugh Brown, author of " The Covenanters," &c.^ Hugh Ainslie, author of " A Pilgrimage to the Land of Burns," &c. . Rev. Hamilton Paul, author of a Life of Burns, &c. Archibald M'Kay, author of " Drouthy Tam," &c.„ James Stirrat, Postmaster, Dairy, John Ramsay, author of " Dundonald Castle," and other Poems John Gilmour, author of " Harvest Home," " Sabbath Sacrament," &c. P. 332 33!) 34-J 349 365 3«0 „, 392 ^ 399 403 410 APPENDIX. Jolin Goldic, author of " Essays on Various Important Subjects, Moral and Rev. William Peebles, D.D.,,.,.,.^ ,^ ™„.,,,,,-,- .^^^^...^ . 9 John Black, LL.D., author of " The Falls of Clyde," " Life of Tasso," &c 13 Rev. David Landsborough, of Stevenston, author of " Arran, a Poem," 18 Original Proprietors of the Douglas and Heron Bank v-™,-.^- 20 Additional Notice of Gavin TumbulL INTRODUCTION. Though by no means deficient in men of genius and learning,* Ayrshire, prior to the days of Burns, had little to boast of as a poetic region — no classic Tweed * Among the early authors helonging to Ayrshire may he mentioned Sir Hugh Mont- gomery (the first IZarl of Eglinton), a poet hy rejjutation, though none of his works are extant — Walter Kennedy, a contemporary of Dunhar — Alexander Montgomerie, au- thor of " The Cherry and the Slae" — Rev. Zacharie Boyd, Professor of Divinity in the College of Glasgow — Mark Alexander Boyd, some of whose pieces appear in the " Deliciai Poetariim Scotorum" — Sir William Moore, of Rowallan, who wrote " The True Crucifix of the True Catholics" — A?idreu' Michael Ramsay, hetter known as the Chevalier Ramsay, whose poetical lucuhrations were collected in a thin volume, small 4to, 1728, hut who is now chiefly remembered for his once celebrated fiction, " The Travels of Cyrus," &c. In the " Introductory Essay" to the " Harp of Ren- frewshire," the editor (Motherwell) hesitates not to rank both the above Montgomeries among the Poets of Renfrewshire, besides several other writers, regarding ^^hom the claim of locality may be reasonably disputed. Alluding to Sir Hugh Montgomery, the editor says, "'He was lineally descended from the Montgomeries of Eagleshame, the parent stock of all that name in Scotland, and is there/ore Judly entitled to he con- sidered as a native of the county.''' Upon the same principle Burns might be con- sidered a native of Kincardineshire ! ! The essayist also claims for Renfrewshire the Earl of Glencaim, .author of the satirical " Epistil, derectit from the holy Heremite of Allareit, to his brethren the Greye Freers," and well-known as one of the Lords of the Congregation in the days of the Reformation. The Cunninghames of Kilmaurs, and afterwards of Glencaim, were one of the oldest families in Ayrshire. Their pro- perty was chiefly in that county, though latterly their principal residence was Finlayston House, in Renfrewshire •, consequently Cilencaim, according to Mr Motherwell's logic, is therefore " justly entitled to be considered a native of Ayrshire." Robert Crawford, (a cadet of the Auchinames family), author of the popular songs of " Tweedside," " My dearie an' ye die," " The Bush aboon Traquair," &c., is also claimed by the monopo- lizing essayist of Renfrewshire, though he ought unquestionably to be ranked among the Poets of Ayrshire. Auchinames is no doubt in Renfrewshire ; but the mansion- house, as well as a groat portion of the property belonging to the family, is in Ayrshire, X INTRODUCTION. or Yarrow meandered through the plains of Kyle and Cunninghame ; and, with the exception of " Hardyk- nute," and " Johnnie Faa," almost none of our popular ballads had reference to the county. " Ramsay and famous Fergusson, Gied Forth an' Tay a lift aboon ; Yan-ow an' Tweed to monie a tune, Owrc Scotland rings, While Irvine, Lugar, Ayr, and Doon, Nae body sings." The genius of the rustic Bard, however, whose lines we have just quoted, has invested the place of his nativity with a new character — " Auld Ayr, wham ne'er a town surpasses," the Cottage where he was born, the " Braes o' bonnie Doon," and, in short, every spot where he has been known to stray, " by fancy led," have become objects of deep interest to all who undertake a pilgrim- age to the " Land of Burns." Nor has care been want- ing to render these worthy of his memory. The hand- some monument erected in the vicinity of " Allowa's auld haunted Kirk," in 1820, has since then been vastly improved ; and the grounds in the neighbour- hood are laid off and decorated in a style admirably in keeping with the simple grandeur of the surrounding scenery.* * These improvements have been chiefly effected through the instrumentality of Mr David Auld, at one time a perfumer in Ayr. When George IV. visited Edinburgh, he presented his Majesty with a chair, antiquely formed of wood from the roof of AUowa Kirk, and ornamented vnth scenes from the tale of Tam o' Shanter, painted by Stevens, an artist belonging to Ayr (now in Rome), who has attained considerable eminence in his profession. Mr Auld was the patron of Thorn, the self-taught sculptor, who some years ago astonished the public by the productions of his chissel. He employed the artist to cut the figures of Tam o' Shanter and Souter Johnnie, and afterwards shared with him the profits of the tour taken through Great Britain to show those pieces of sculpture, by which arrangement, it is said, he gained £2000. Thorn is now in America. INTRODUCTION. XI 2\ Amid the world of fame acquired by the Peasant Bard, and while men of all ranks and opinions unite in admiration of his genius, and in contributing to honour the district that gaA^e him birth, it is rather surprising that so little interest has hitherto been manifested in the history of those individuals who appeared contem- poraneously with the Poet, or have since sought inspira- tion at his shrine. " The fame which Burns obtained," says Cunningham, " deluged the Lowlands of Scotland with rustic verse ; and I have heard men, who had the reputation of good sense, express surprise at their want of success. They did not observe that those homely bards wanted almost all for which Burns was distin- giiished." This is a sweeping, and, to a certain extent, a true assertion. Few of these votaries of the muse, indeed, have established any paramount claim to distinc- tion ; yet, it is worthy of remark, that the efforts even of her most humble followers, exerted, as they fre- quently are, in distant and Avidely scattered districts, are not without their influence in advancing the pro- gress of intellectual improvement — and hence his title to the sympathy of posterity. How many, in the words of David Sillar, have " Ever had an anxious wisli— Forgive me, Heaven ! if 'twas amiss — That fame in life my name wad bliss. And kindly save It from the cruel Tyrant's crush, Beyond tlie grave" — and, like him, might have wished in vain, but for some fortuitous circumstance that has procured for them a niche in the "• temple of fame." As the early bosom friend of Burns, the memory of David Sillar, indepen- dent of his pretensions as a poet, must ever be regarded Xll INTRODUCTION. with peculiar respect ; and well might the future ad- mirers of Coila's Bard regret, should no additional re- miniscences be preserved of such men as the " brither poet," or of the " bauld Lapraik," than what has already been recorded. As time recedes curiosity will be whet- ted ; and who were the " Contemporaries of Burns ?" may be asked at a jieriod Avhen it would be impossible to answer the question satisfactorily.* " It is affecting to think," is the observation of Cro- mek, in allusion to the authors of many of our best l}Tics, " that they lie below the turf, and all that can now be redeemed from the oblivious wreck of their ge- nius, is a few" solitary fragments of song !" This is a reproach less likely to apply to the present age ; but we are still too apt to lose sight of unobtrusive merit. There are few individuals, however undistinguished, whose history is not in some degree pregnant Avith in- struction ; and, apart from consideratiojis of utility, there is a pleasure to be experienced in tracing the obscure path of him to whom the fountains of knowledge have been only partially opened ; and who, struggling in vain to wing his flight against the full " blaze of day," has nevertheless become the centre and the luminary of his own admiring though limited circle. With all the feel- ings of the poet, he may have failed in clothing his sen- timents in correct or glowing language ; but how many hearts are capable of vibrating to the deepest and purest emotions, and yet, like the ^olian harp, when swept by the passing breeze, have not the faculty of giving * It is to be ])reEumtMl tliat the work, now issuing from the press, entitled " The Land of Bums," will supply the desideratum, in so far as the immediate correspon- dents of Bums are concerned ; but the present undertaking will be found to embrace objects, and to enter into details, altogether foreign to the design of that elegant, but iicccssanly circumscribed publication. INTRODUCTION. XIll distinct and impressive utterance to their sensations. The flower that is -" born to blush unseen. And waste its sweetness in the desert air," may, indeed, lose a portion of its perfume in the trans- planting, but who would choose that it should rather perish in the solitude ? The Poets of Ayrshire, since the days of Burns, how- ever, are not all of the very humble class we have been alluding to. Amongst others, the late Sir Alexander Boswell may be instanced ; and, though more of a no- velist than a poet, it must not be forgotten that Gait is a native of the county* — and the scene of one of his earliest and best productions, the " Annals of the Par- ish," is understood to be the burgh which gave him birth. But the world does not need to be told of such men as the author of " Lawrie Todd," and we shall have more delight in rescuing the obscure from oblivion, or in leading forward those whose unfledged wings give promise of future strength of fliglit. With Southey's " Lives of the Uneducated Poets of England" before us, need we apologize for extending a friendly hand to the unlettered, as well as to the better educated, who claim to be enrolled among the songsters of the " Land of Burns ?" * So is the Poet James Montgomerie. He was the eldest son of a Moravian minis- ter, and born in Irvine on the 4th November 1771. His parents, however, were from Ireland ; and as they returned to that country a few years after the birth of the bard, we scarcely feel warranted in claiming, from the mere accident of birth, the honour of a name which virtually belongs to the Sister Isle. THE CONTEMPORARIES OF BURNS. I JOHN LA PR A IK, THE BARD OP MUIRKIRK. The name of Lapraik is familiar to every reader of Burns ; yet comparatively few know any thing of his writings, his history, or his family. The sirname — now very rare in this country — is perhaps of French origin. The family of Lekprevick, or Lapraik, of that Ilk, made a considerable figure " before the reign of Robert the Bruce, and continued to flourish a long time after."* The Castle of Lekprevick, now in ruins, is about a mile and a half south from Kilbride, in the county of Lanark. Robert Lekprevick Avas printer to James the Sixth of Scotland. He it was who first gave to the world a collected edition of the Scottish Statutes. Another production of his press is " The Actis and Deides of the illuster and vailyeand campion Schir William Wal- lace, of Ellerslie, imprintit at Edenburgh by Robert Lekprevick, at the expensis of Henrie Charteris ; and are to be sauld in his buith, on the north side of the gait above the throne. Black letter, 4to. Anno Do. m.d.lxx." The only copy known to ex- ist of this very rare edition of a popular work is in the British JSIuseum. " The Sege of the Castel of Edenburgir'' was also " imprintit be Robert Lekprevick, anno LSyS." Whether or not the subject of this sketch was a descendant of the printer does not appear ; nor is it known whether he was in any way connected with the ancient stock, although the scarcity now-a-days of persons of the same name makes such a presumption extremely probable. John Lapraik, the senior of all the Ayrshire contemporaries of Ure's Rutherglca and East Kilbride. Glasgow, 1793, Ovo. Pp. IG.'i. 'c I iH JOHN LAPRAIK. Burns, was born in 1727, at Laigli l)al(j[ulirani, (or, as now pro- nounced, l^ulfhun,) situated on the road to Sorn, about three miles west of Muirkirk. Here his father lived before him, and the pro- perty had been in possession of the family for several generations. He was the eldest son, and, by the death of his father, succeeded at an early period to the paternal inheritance. His education, though cfjual, if not superior, to the common range of parochial instruction at that period, was by no means classical ; and, as ob- served by himself, he had little leisure to improve his mind by extensive reading. At what period he first attempted verse it is impossible to guess ; but it must have been long prior to the attempts of his youthful friend — the inimitable Bard of Coila. Lapraik married in March 1754. He had then attained his twenty-seventh year. The object of his choice was Margaret Ranhin, eldest daughter of William Rankin of Lochhead, and sister to John, the well-known " rough, rude, ready-witted Ran- kin." F'rom a document (the contract of marriage*) in our pos- session, it appears that he received with his bride a dowery of one hundred pounds sterling ; and that, in case of his demise, under certain contingences, she was to obtain an annixity of two hundred merks Scots. His property, at this period, consisted, in the Avords of the document, of " All and haill that eight shilling ninepenny land of old extent of Dalquhram, alias Nether Dal- quhram ; and all and haill the eight shilling ninepenny land of old extent of Upper Dalquhram, commonly called Laigh Hall ; as also all and haill the eight shilling ninepenny land of old extent of Dalquhram, called Douglass Dalquhram, with the respective houses, biggings, yeards, parts, and pendicles, and haill pertinents of the said several lands and teinds, parsonage and vinerage of the same, all lying within the parish of Muirkirk, lordship and late regality, now barony of Kylesmuir, and sheriff- dom of Ayr, together with the fishing of salmond and other fish- ing in the water of Ayr." Besides the lands enumerated, which * To this (lociinient, in addition to the signatures of tlie contracting parties, (viz. John Lapraik, William Rankin, and Margaret Rankin,) is also appended that of the well- known John Kankin, as one of the witnesses. In respect to penmanship, Lapraik's is decidedlv the hcst. JOHN LAFliAIK. 1.9 appear to have been considerable, Lapraik held in lease the ground and mill of Muirsmill, distant from Dalfram about half a mile ; and for some years subsequent to his marriage he enjoyed with his " wedded Avife" that degree of happiness which competence and affection were so well calculated to afford. Possessed of a cheerful, kind disposition, few men were more beloved in his sphere, or better fitted for the reciprocal interchange of social life. Fond of poetry and song, he essayed the rustic lyre ; and happy in his household, its strings were alone attuned for the domestic hearth. Little did he dream that the muse thus wooed in prosperity, should, at no distant period, become the solace of his misfortune ! Among the earliest of the Poet's griefs was the death of his wife, soon after the birth of her fifth child.* This was indeed a severe stroke, and not less keenly felt. The blank in the domes- tic circle was supplied, however, a few years afterwards (1766), in the person of Janet Anderson, of Lightshaw, the name of a neighbouring farm possessed by her father. Janet was fourteen years his junior, and a young woman in every respect capable of inspiring the Poet with the most ardent affection : — " Ye gods ! who reside in the regions above, Depiive me of life, or inspire Iwr with love, ! Make Jenny's fond bosom to feel for my pain. That I may sweet peace and contentment regain." The gods were propitious — " She smiled sweetly ou me, and gave me her hand. And with blushes did own she was at my command ; Transported with joy, while she lean'd on my breast, I thanked tlie kind gods who had heard my request : So I to all sorrows and cares bid farewell, While Jenny does love me, no care I can feel." When Jjapraik thus expressed himself, he was secure in his pro- perty of Dalfram, and though not a wealthy laird, could scarcely have imagined that the day of adversity was so near at hand. In November 1769, about four years after the consummation * Three of the five children reached tiic years of maturity. One of the sons died abroad, the other, William, at Woolwich. 20 JOHN LArRAIK. of liis second marriage, tlie Ayr Bank was established, under the designation of Douglas, Heron & Co., with a capital of ^£'150,000; and, numbering among its shareholders some of the most wealthy and influential men in the country, the concern began business un- der the happiest auspices, and with the fairest prospects of success. Its career, however, was short, and its effects ruinous. In the his- tory of banking scarcely an instance is to be found of greater mismanagement. In little more than two years the company was under the necessity of suspending payments (June 1772) ; and though a farther advance was at that time obtained from the proprietors, the bank finally closed its transactions on the 12th of August 1773, having thus scarcely completed three full years from the date of its commencement. Many families of Ayrshire were buried in the fall of Douglas, Heron & Co. ; and among these unhappily Avas the laird of Dalfram. " In an evil hour," says Cunningham, " Avhen the love of making ' meikle mair'' came upon him, he pjirchased shares in what Burns called ' that villan- ous bubble the Ayr bank,' and was involved in its ruin." Though true in the main particular, this is not altogether a correct state- ment. Lapraik, we believe, never was a shareholder ;* but what was equally ruinous, he became a victim to the mania for specu- lation created by the lavish credits of the bank. He not only obtained discounts himself, but guaranteed others to a heavy amount ; and when the " bubble burst" he found himself involved beyond the possibility of extrication. A poem, written appa- rently at this juncture, or shortly afterwards, embodies the au- thor's sentiments, somewhat quaintly expressed, relative to the Douglas and Heron Bank, and the wide-spread ruin occasioned by its fall : — , " In the year sixty-nine and seventy. Notes amongst us were too plenty : A\'e took our glass anA were right canty ; And little thought, That plenty, when 'tis misimproven, Brings men to nought. * A list of the shareholders of the hank, wliicli we douht not may he interesting to our Ayrshire friends, will be given in a subsequent part of the work. JOHN LAPRAIK. 21 The cry went through from ' pole to pole,' There's credit here for ever soul ; If he's well hack'd, without control, He shall have money : 'Tis bitter sauce to each one now, That then was honey. This credit went o'er all the country ; It M'as as ready as Kiny^s boiDily ; But now there is not one of twenty That can get rest ; Hornings are going every day, They're so opprest. If I might pick some men by name, Wba did contrive a decent sclteme : They're foolish folk wha these men blame ; For their intention Was to make ev'ry crown a pound By this invention. In midst of their industrious plan, Their money is required again : He now is sad wha then was fain ; The secret's kent ; His profits he has not got in, And money's spent. And then ilk creditor he has Comes runnin' on him wi' a blaze ; Each telling that he must have his Or caution get ; Then diligence against him goes ; Syne he's laid flat!" The mismanagement on the part of the company chiefly ex- isted in the lavish manner in which their notes were thrown into circulation, and the granting of loans on long credits, whereby the capital was withdrawn from the immediate use of the bank. This evil, proceeding partly from ignorance, was augmented by the circumstance of a number of adventurers having found their Avay into the directorship, who, at once needy and imprudent, set at defiance all the regulations of the establishment.* The result * This was particularly the case at the office in Ayr. The Report of a Committee of Inquiry, published in 1778, states that " at Air, which was the principal office, and '22 JOHN LAI'KAIK. was the speedy dissipation of the conipany''s funds — the contrac- tion of an equivalent debt, especially in London, to meet the re- turn of their own notes — and a commercial panic occurring at tlie time, the money market suddenly became depressed, and all wlio were struggling for existence were speedily overwhelmed. At this crisis the desperate efforts made by the sale of redeemable annui- ties plunged the company into still farther difficulties ; and the attempt to save the concern from legal bankruptcy ended a few months afterwards in a voluntary one, the evils of which were considerably augmented by the very means adopted to avoid such where the business commenced the Gth of November 1769, it was unfortunate that a vai'iety of enterprising companies, engaged in different kinds of foreign and domestic trade, had, about this time, been established in that place, under different firms indeed, but all of them closely connected and linked together ; and that the members which composed these several trading companies became all of them partners of Douglas, Heron and Company. It was still more unfortunate, that the cashier and most of the directors, chosen for the management of the Air office, were deeply connected witli, and concerned in, one or more of these trading companies ; and thus the wise and salutary regulation of the general meeting, November 17G9, prohibiting above one member of any trading company from being in the direction at any of the offices at one and the same time, was disregarded in the very first proceeding. Such were the companies under the firms of Oliphant and Company — Whiteside and Company — Maclure and Maccree — Campbell and Company — Montgomery and Company — Campbell, Craw- ford and Company, and some others. The same connections, and, in general, the same individuals, composed those trading societies. They were a set of the partners of Douglas, Heron and Company, associated together ; and four or five of the chief act- ing directors of this office were deeply engaged in those commercial schemes. The common desire and necessity of promoting mutual credit could not fail to unite this confederacy in the closest manner ; and the access to credit being rendered easy, the consequences were such as might have been expected. — Most exorbitant and profuse credits were immediately given out, in various forms, to the individual members of those trading companies, and to the companies themselves, under their respective firms. — The same set of people became securities for each other ; and, in the gr.anting of cash-accounts in particular, this abuse immediately became so great with respect to the Board of Directors, and was so evidently inconsistent with the proper rules of manage- ment, that, so early as the 20th November 1769, a regulation was made, ' That none of the directors who had already been bound should afterwards be received as securi- ties in any cash-account;' and thereafter, on the 8th of January 1770, the abuse hav- ing been complained of by the other offices, it was further resolved, ' That no person whatever should be received as cautioner in more than three cash-accounts.' " These resolutions, however, had little effect, the mismanagement they were intended to check continuing, according to the Report, nearly to an equal extent. Besides the otlicc rit .■\yr. there was one in Edinburgh and another in Dumfries. JOHN LAPRAIK. ^3 an alternative.* It now became a matter of necessity, on the part of the company, to realize every available debt ; hence the homings and diligence alluded to by Lapraik. In consequence of approaching difficulties, the Poet let his own lands of Dalfram, and retired to Muirsmill, where he remained for a few years. From thence he removed to Netherwood, a farm on the water of Greenoak, still retaining the lease of the mill, however ; and here he continued for nine years, struggling in vain to overcome the losses he had sustained. At the end of that period he sold off his property, and again returned to Muirs- mill ; but the sale of his lands having failed to rid him of his lia- bilities, he still found himself the victim of legal prosecution, and at length, to heap the full measure of Avretchedness on the devoted head of an unfortunate but honest man, he was thrown into pri- son. In his preface to his book of poems, Lapraik alludes to this event in the following words : — " In consequence of misfortunes and disappointments, he (the author) was, some years ago, torn from his ordinary way of life, and shut up in retirement, which he found at first painful and disagreeable. Imagining, however, that he had a kind of turn for rhyming, in order to support his solitude, he set himself to compose the following pieces," &c. While immured within the walls of Ayr jail, he is said to have written the very feeling lyric, " When I upon thy bosom lean,"" addressed to his wife : — " AVhen I upon thy bosom lean, Enraptured I do call thee mine ; I glory in those sacred tics That made us one who once were twain: A mutual flame inspires us both — The tender look, the melting kiss ; * At the stoppage in June 1772, the debts due to the three bank offices amounted to nearly £700,000, £400,000 of which had been contracted by the partners them- selves. Tlie whole amount of assets, including debts and bills of exchange, amounted to £1,2.S7,043, 7s. Id. The debts due by the company exceeded this sum. In 1789, the committee appointed to wind up the affairs of the bank, found it necessary to make a fresh call of £1400 per share upon those partners who still continued solvent. From the state of affairs at this time, it appeared that after deducting the debts due to the company, the firm remained debtor in the sum of £366,000 ! The whole lo?s upon each share was calculated to amount to £2600, exclusive of interest. -■i JOHN LAPRAIK. Even years sliall ne'er destroy our love — Some sweet sensation new will rise. Have I a wish ? 'tis all for thee •, 1 know thy wish is me to please ; Our moments pass so smooth away. That numbers on us look and gaze. Well pleased to sec our happy days, They bid us live and still love on ; And if some cares shall chance to rise, Thy bosom still shall be my home. I'll lull me there and take my rest ; And if that ought disturb my fair, I'll bid licr laugh her cares all out. And beg her not to drop a tear. Have I a joy ? 'tis all her own ; Her heart and mine are all the same ; They're like the woodbine round the tree, That's twined till death shall us disjoin." * * This song appeared in Johnson's Scots j\lusical JMusciim, wth more of a Scottish dress and considerably improved, we should suppose, by the hand of Burns. The above is copied verbatim from Lapraik's volume. The other version is as fol- lows : — " When I upon thy bosom lean, A?id fowlbj clasp iliee «' my ain, I glory in ike sacred ties That made us ane, wha ance were twain ; A mutual flame inspires us baith — The tender look, the melting kiss ; Even years shall ne'er destroy our love, But only gie us change o' bliss. Hae I a Mish ? its a' for thee ; I ken thy wish is me to please ; Our moments pass sae smooth away, That numbers on us look and gaze. Weel pleas'd they see our happy days, Nor enry''s seP finds avgld to blame; And aye when tveary cares arise. Thy bosom still shall be my hame. I'll lay me there, and tak' my rest ; And if that aught disturb my dear, I'll bid her laugh her cares aicay. And beg her not to drap a tear. JOHN LAPRAIK. 25 It was this song, first heard at a country rocMifC^ that induced Bums to open a correspondence with the author, which he did in his " Epistle to J. Lapraik, an Old Scottish Bard," dated 1st April 1785 :— " On fasten-een we had a rockin, To ca' the crack and weave our etockin, An' there was muckle fun an' jokin, Ye needna doubt ; At length we had a hearty yokin At sang about. There was ae sanr/ amang the rest, Aboon them a' it pleased me best, That some kind husband had addrest To some sweet wife ; It thirl'd the heart-strings through the breast, A' to the life." The epistles of Burns to Lapiaik are well known. His ad- vances, as an " unknown frien''," were met upon the part of the Bard of Muirkirk by that openness and warmth of feeling which were the characteristics of the unfortunate but still facetious miller of Muirsmill. " The reply of Lapraik," says Allan Cun- ningham, " has been recorded ; it was in its nature pleasing, and drew from the Bard of Mosgiel a second epistle, in which he says much of his toils and his musings." Cunningham has not stated where the reply is recorded. Assuredly not in Lapraik"'s volume ; nor in any of the editions of the works of Bums. That the correspondence, however, was carried on for some time is evident. One of Lapraik*'s sons, James, now living in Muirkirk, recollects having been the bearer of several communications be- twixt his father and Bums, who was then at Mosgiel. On the Hae I a joy ? its a' her ain ; Uniti'd still lier lieaH and mine ; They're like the woodbine round the tree, That's twined till death sliall lhc?>i disjoin." " This song," says Burns, " was tlie work of a very worthy, facetious old fellow, John Lapraik, late of Dalfram, near Muirkirlc ; which little property he was obliged to sell, in consequence of some connexic auld and gitty, An' be as canty As ye weie nine years less than thrctty, Sweet aue-and-twenty." The Poet, in this instance, was as good as iiis word. In the course of the winter he visited Lapraik at Muirsmill, where he dined, spent a merry evening, and next morning took his depar- ture for Mosgiel. The flattering attention paid him by Burns, and the recep- tion Avhich the works of that Poet met from the public, had the effect of stimulating Lapraik, who, though now far advanced in years, resolved upon venturing before the world as an author. With this view he set about wooing the muse with all the fresh- ness of a green old age ; and in 1788 appeared, from the Kil- marnock press, the works of the Poet of Muirkirk, entitled " Poems, on several occasions, by John Lapraik," 8vo, pp. 240. With the exception of the song already quoted, few of the pieces display any approach to poetic merit ; still the volume is not without interest, and is now so very rare, that a few extracts, we doubt not, will prove acceptable to our readers. It is rather surprising that the volume contains none of the author's epistles to Burns, the very pieces, of all others, that would have most enhanced his work in the eyes of posterity. There is, to be sure, one epistle to the Poet, but of a more recent date than their first correspondence, and is chiefly an apology for his at- tempting to court the muse in his old age : — " I liked the lasses unco weel, Langsyno when I was young, Which sometimes kittled up my muse, To write a kind love sang. " Yet it never occurred to him, as he himself expresses it, to trouble the world with his " dull, insipid, thowless rhyme," " Till your kind muse, vtV friendly blast. First tooted up my /amc, And sounded loud' thro' a' the wast, My lang- forgotten name." 28 JOHN LAPRAIK. In the " Poet's Apology for Rhyming," Lapraik soliloquizes in a sensible strain : — " No satire keen shall make me rage, Ev'n tlio' my fate were worse ; My head's grown empty by old age. But not so toom's my purse ! My means and credit, fickle things ! They both are fled and gone ; And I my weary days maun pass LJnhcedcd and unknown ! » * * I for a feast will never fawn. Nor pour out my complaint : If tvelcome's liand is now withdrawn, I'll stay at home content. I'll make my pottage, boil my kail, Remote and little known : With ink I'll black the other sheet, Regardless of man's frown. « « « I'm not so vain as to pretend To teach men to behave ; Yet still am of a nobler mind Than ever be their slave. I love a friend that's frank and free. Who tells to me his mind : I hate to hing upon a hank. With hums and has confined." It appears that shortly before publishing his Poems, the author had entertained the notion of emigrating to America. In the prospect of this, he writes the following " Farewell to his Native Country :"— < " Farewell, ye dear delightful fields, Where first my breath I drew ! Farewell, my much respected friends, I bid you all adieu ! For other fields and other plains, And other clouds and skies ; For other distant, unknown scenes, I now must sail the seas ! JOHN LAPRAIK. 29 . In spring, which decks the blooming year With flowers both fresh and gay, ■ I puird those flowers that were so fair. But now I must away. I wonder'd at the scene so gay. With colours of each hue ; In innocence I spent each day. Yet bid those days adieu ! » * * In ease I spent my youthful days ; ^ My friends they me carest ; Quite free of care, in sports and plays, I was supremely blest ! I ne'er envied the rich and great, I Nor did I wealth pursue ; Yet now I leave my native seat. And bid a long adieu ! When standing on yon river side. Where trees and bushes grow, Where Nature's deck'd in flow'ry pride. And murm'ring streams do flow, I listened to the pleasing strain : That echo'd thro' the vale — \ No longer here I must remain, And so I bid farewell ! » * « f My native spot, on banks of Ayr, \ May sweets adorn thy soil ! 1 Let Nature's blooming face so fair. Aye bless thee with her smile ! Let flow'rs of every various kind. Each colour and each hue, ] Produce such sweets as suit the mind i Of every friend that's true ! You friends, who graced my little book, .; And share my joy and woe. May health and peace still be your lot, And wealth still on you flow ! i Your friendship I will ne'er forget ; I'll to your mem'ry kneel ! ; To every friend, with aching heart i I bid a sad farewell !" • I These quotations are probably more than sufficient to satisfy the curiosity of the reader. Though displaying little, indeed, of •30 JOHN LAPllAIK. the genius of poetry, the productions of Lapraik are cliaracterized by good sense and justness of observation ; and breathe so much the spirit of pliilanthropic independence as fairly to establisli his chiini to the title of the " bauld Lapraik, the king o^ hearts," bestowed upon liiui by Burns. One other extract and we have done. It is " THE RIGHT HON. THE EARL OF DUNDONALd''s WELCOME TO AYRSHIRE. Juhi 17!J7. Hail, great Dundonald ! wise and sage, Bright ornament of this our age ! Thy virtues gi'eat, and godlike sldll. With grateful joy each heart do fill ! * * 41- Each proud philosdJ)her doth see, And owns himself excell'd hy thee : They waste their time in dry disputes, Whilst thou hy practice show'st its fruits. » * * Men now no more need fetch from far That useful article called Tar ; Great Britain's thunder now may roar In dreadful claps from shore to shore ! With joy we see her men-of-war Secured by thy matchless tar. That worms in vain their force employ. Their warlike bottoms to destroy. With it bedaub'd, they longer last Than they were sheath 'd with metal cast. The furious waves may dash in vain ; Their well- pitch 'd sides do firm remain ; Corroding Time's destructive force, In ages scarce can make them worse. Ill fortune, with redoubled blow, Had long laid Ayrshire very low ! Her manufactures and her trade Seem'd ruin'd quite, without remead ; One blink of hope did scarce remain That e'er she flourish would again. That woful Bank, that plague of plagues, Had fairly kick'd her oif her legs. JOHN LAPRAIK. 31 As Phoebus with his glorious light Dispels the gloomy shades of night, The ■world that late in darkness lay, Transported, hails the cheerful day ; So Ayrshire lifts her drooping head, Erewhile in gloomy darkness laid, And casting round her wond'ring eyes, Beholds Dundonald great arise ; And stretching forth a gen'rous hand, To save from death a ruin'd land ! But chief Muirkirk, a poor starved place,* With hunger painted in its face. With joy may bless the happy day. That e'er your lordship came this way." This address to the late Lord Bundonakl, refers to a briglit period in that unfortunate nobleman^s history. Much given to scientific pursuits, he made various useful discoveries, and among others that of a peculiar description of tar, extracted from coal, found to be an excellent preventive of rot in vessels, from which our navy formerly suffered so severely, that in the course of a few months ships of the line were frequently rendered unfit for service. Lord Dundonald first obtained a patent for his dis- covery, and subsequently an Act of Parliament, securing it to him and his heirs for twenty years. Immediately upon procuring this, his lordship formed what was termed the " British Coal Tar Company," in which he is understood to have embarked the greater part of his fortune. Muirkirk, on account of its minerals, was selected as a suitable district for the operations of the com- pany — ground was feued, pits sunk, and a range of buildings erected for carrying on the chemical process. The works, begun in 1785, were the following year nearly in full operation. Be- sides tar, the company manufactured paint, oil, salts, and magne- * Prior to the erection of tlie Tar and Iron Works, Muirkirk was a very insipnifi- cant village. Since then it has greatly increased, numbering about twelve luiiidrcd inhabitants according to the census of 1831. It consists chiefly of one long iiTegular street, neither paved nor lighted ; yet, notwithstanding the bleak aspect of the sur- rounding district, the inhabitants manifest considerable advancement in the comforts of life. 32 JOHN LAPRAIK. sia ; and for a time success seemed so certain, that Lord Dun- donald is said to have refused an annuity of five or six thousand a-year, offered him by an English company, for the surrender of his patent. Never Tvcre liopes more speedily and effectually blighted. The plan of sheathing vessels with copper having been soon thereafter adopted, the use of Lord DundonahFs pitch for marine purposes was almost entirely superseded. The sudden close of the chief market upon which his lordship had calculated, proved ruinous to his hopes of prosperity. Notwithstanding, the works continued in operation for some time, first under the man- agement of the late Admiral Keith Stewart,* and latterly of John Loudon M'Adam, the celebrated road-improver. The buildings are now nearly in ruins, and are partially appropriated to the use of the Iron Works, which, commencing about the year 1787, have since been carried on with increasing prosperity. Lord Dundonald was a patriotic, but speculative and unfortunate nobleman. He died at Paris, at an advanced age, on the 1st July 1831, in great penury. The subsequent history of Lapraik admits of little detail. About 1796, then far advanced in years, he gave up the mill, and for a year or two lived in a house which had been built for an inn at Nether Wellwood by Admiral Keith Stewart, On leaving this, he removed to Muirkirk, where he opened a small public-house in a corner land leading from the main street to the church, Avhich at the same time served as the village post- office, the venerable Poet, through the kindness of his friends, having been installed into that important trust. Here he lived much respected till his death, which occurred on the 7th May 1807, in the eightieth year of his age. In the vigour of life Lapraik was a stout muscular man, about five feet eleven inches in height, and well formed. There is no portrait of him preserved ; and none of his children (at least those who survive) are considered to bear a striking resemblance * The Admiral appears to have been a kind friend to Lapraik, as well as to the in- habitants of Muirkirk generally. The Poet expresses his gratitude in a few verses, entitled " The ■\A'is]i." JOHN LAPRAIK. 33 to him. By his second wife, Janet Anderson, lie had a large family, nine of whom attained the years of maturity. Three brothers and one sister still reside near the place of their birth. The latter was married to a Mr M'Minn, fiirmer, Nether Well- wood.* She is a widow — an elderly, matronly-looking woman — and perfectly remembers the visit paid by Bm-ns to her father at Muirsmill. Her brother, Thomas, has long been shepherd on the farm, which is large, and consists partly of hill pasture. James and John reside in Muirkirk. The former is a retired farmer. The latter served his apprenticeship as a cooper, but was pressed on board a man-of-war ; and, having been captured by the enemy, was ten years in French prison. After the peace he returned to Muirkirk, where he now follows his original calling. He is the only one of his trade in the village, and is-on that account gener- ally styled " the cooper." He is well-known in the neighbour- hood — can spin an interesting yarn — and, like a genuine old tar, is by no means averse to his grog. * Near to Wellwood, which in former times belonged to a scion of the house of Lou- don, of the name of Campbell, is the grave of William Adam, one of the victims of the Persecution. Tlie small grey stone, which marks his place of sepulture, bears tlie fol- lowing inscription : — " Here lyes William Adam, who was shot in this place by Cap. Dalzeal and his party, for his adherence to the Word of God, and Scotland's Cove- nanted Work of Reformation, March 1G85." This inscription is scarcely legible, the renovating chissel of " Old Mortality" having apparently never been applied in renew- ing the brief but expressive record. Tlie spot, indeed, is not generally known. No detailed account of the affair occurs in the " Cloud of Witnesses," nor has Chambers, in his " Picture of Scotland," alluded to the obscure but interesting grave of the soli- tary sleeper. Visiters usually have their attention engrossed by recollections of the more celebrated martyrs — Cameron, and Brown the " Christian Carrier" — whose graves are also in the neighbourhood of Muirkirlc •, that of Cameron at the western^ and not the eastern, extremity of Aird's Moss, as inadvertently stated in the " Picture of Scot- land." The tradition at Wellwood is, that Adam, wlio was one of the domestics of tlie house, on perceiving Dalziel and his party, immediately fled and was pursued. He had cleared the rivulet, when a ball brought him down, just as he was about to ascend the rising ground, which is now, and probably was then, covered with trees and brushwood. He was interred exactly on the spot where he fell. It is supposed that Campbell was the person whom the soldiers were most anxious to secure, and that they imagined Adam to be him. In tlie " Cloud of Witnesses," it is stated somewhat vaguely that " Captain Dalziel and Ijieut. Stradon, with tlicir men, found William Adam hidin;^' in a bush, and instantly killed him, at the Wellwood, in Kyle, Fihruarjj l(i«.-)." 34 JEANIE GLOVER. The widow of Lapraik survived till the 5th of March 1825, when she expired in the eighty-third year of her age. All her husband's books and papers continued in her possession ; but, as no importance was attached to them, scarcely a vestige of his MSS. is now in existence ; and none of his family have even a copy of his Poems, the few that remained having been either com- plimented or carried away by friends who had no intention of returninof them, Lapraik was interred in the Churchyard of Muirkirk, where a large tabular stone records the death of himself, his wife, and several children. JEANIE GLOVER, AUTHORESS OF " o'eR THE MOOR AMANG THE HEATHER." Burns communicated this song to " Johnson's Scots Musical Museum ;" and in his " Remarks on Scottish Songs and Ballads," he states, in language somewhat rude, that it " is the composition of a Jean Glover, a girl who was not only a , but also a thief; and in one or other character has visited most of the cor- rection-houses in the west. She was born, I believe, in Kilmar- nock : I took the song down from her singing as she was strolling with a slight-of-hand blackguard through the country." Though the song alluded to has been long popular, and copied into numerous collections, this is all that has hitherto transpired re- specting Jeanie Glover. That the song was her own we are left in no manner of doubt ; for it must be inferred, from the positive statement of the Poet, that she had herself assured him of the fact. It is well that Burns expressed himself in decided lan- guage ; for otherwise it would scarcely be credited that one of our .TEANIE GLOVER. 35 sweetest and most simple lyrics should have been the production of a person Avhose habits and course of life were so irregular : — " Comin' thro' the Craigs o' Kyle,* Amang the honnie hlooming heather, There I met a honnie lassie Keeping a' lier yovves thegether. O'er tlie moor amang the heather. O'er the moor amang the heather, There I met a honnie lassie Keeping a' her yowes thegether. Says I, my dear, where is thy hame. In moor or dale, pray tell me whether ? She says, I tent the fleecy flocks, That feed amang the blooming heather. O'er the moor, &c. We laid us down upon a bank, Sae warm and sunny was the weather ; She left her flocks at large to rove Amang the bonnie blooming heather. O'er tlie moor, &c. While thus we lay she sang a sang. Till echo rang a mile and farther ; And aye the burden o' the sang Was — o'er the moor amang the heather. O'er the moor, &c. She charm'd my heart, an' aye sin sj'ne, I coudna think on ony itlier : By sea and sky she shall be mine ! The bonnie lass amang the heather. O'er the moor," &c. When at Muirkirk, we Avere fortunate enough to learn a few particulars relative to Jeanie Glover. A niece of hers still resides there,-|- and one or two old people distinctly remember having seen her. She Avas born at the Townhead of Kilmarnock on the 81st October 1758, of parents respectable in their sphere.:]: * The Craigs o' Kyle are a range of small hills about a mile south of the village of Coilton, in the parish of that name. f A sister's son and daughter also live at the Sorn. J " James Glover, weaver in Kilmarnock, .and .lean Thomson, both their first mar- riages, had their .3d child born on Tuesday, October 31, 1758, and baptized Jean, on 3() JEANIE GLOVER. That licr education was superior, tlie circumstances of licr birtli Avill not permit us to believe ; but she was brought up in the prin- ciples of rectitude, and had the advantage of that early instruction which few Scottish families are without. She was remarkable for beauty — both of face and figure — properties which, joined to a romantic and poetic fancy, had no doubt their influence in shaping her future unfortunate career. She Avas also an excellent singer. Until within these few years, Kilmarnock had no theatre, or at least any building so called ; but strolling parties of players were in the habit of frequenting the towu at fairs, and on other public occasions, sometimes performing in booths, or in the " Croft Lodge," long known as a place of amusement. Having been a witness to some of these exhibitions, .Teanie unhappily became enamoured of the stage ; and in an evil hour eloped with one of the heroes of the sock and buskin. Her subsequent life, as may be guessed, was one of adventure, checkered, if Burns is to be credited, with the extremes of folly, vice, and misfortune. About the time the Iron Works commenced, a brother of Jeanie (James Glover) removed from Kilmarnock to Muirkirk ; and there, in the employ of the Company, continued until his death, which occurred about fourteen years ago, leaving a daugh- ter (the niece formerly mentioned), whose husband is one of the cai"penters employed at the works. This individual, as well as seve- ral others, recollects having seen Jeanie and the " slight-of-hand blackguard" — whose name was Richard — at Muirkirk, forty-three years ago (about 1795), where they performed for a few nights in the large room of a public-house called the " Black Bottle," from a sign above the door of that description, kept by one David Lennox. During her stay on this occasion she complimented her brother with a cheese and a boll of meal — a circumstance strongly indicative of her sisterly affection, and the success that had attended the entertainments given by her and her husband. Those persons Avho recollect her appearance at this time, notwith- Sabbath, Nov. .5, 1758, by Mr John Cunningham, minister, Dalmellington. — Ex- tracted from the Register of Births and Baptisms of the Town and Parish of Kilmar- nock, upon tlic 17th day of January 1839. Wm. Anderson, Sess. Cl/c.'^ JEANIE GLOVER. 37 standing the many vicissitudes she must have previously encoun- tered, describe her as exceedingly handsome. One old woman with whom we conversed, also remembered having seen Jeanie at a fair in Irvine, gaily attired, and playing on a tambarine at the mouth of a close, in which was the exhibition-room of her husband the conjurer. " Weel do I remember her," said our informant, " an' thocht her the bravest woman I had ever seen step in lea- ther shoon !" Such are our Muirkirlc reminiscences of Jeanie Glover. From another source we learn that she sometimes paid a theatrical visit to her native town. One individual there, who knew her well, states that he has heard her sing in the " Croft Lodge." The song she generally sung, and for which she Avas most famed, was " Green grow the rashes." The same person afterwards became a soldier ; and, being in Ireland with his regiment, happened to see Jeanie performing in the town of Letterkenny. He intro- duced himself to her acquaintance, and had the honour of her company over a social glass. This occurred in 1801. She was then apparently in good health, gay and sprightly as when in her native country ; but, alas ! before he left Letterkenny — and he was only about two months in it — she was " mouldering in silent dust." She must therefore have died rather suddenly, in or near that town, in the year above mentioned. 3s DAVID SILLAR. DAVID SILLAR, THE EARLY FRIEND AND CORRESPONDENT OF BURNS. David Sillar was a younger son of Patrick Sillar, tenant of Spittlcside, a pleasantly situated farm within a mile of the village of Tarbolton. Born in 1760, he was at least a year the junior of Burns. His claim to the title of " scholar," bestowed upon him by Allan Cunningham, could scarcely be superior, if even equal to that of his more celebrated brother Poet, having been taught only the common branches of education — reading, writing, and arithmetic — at the parish school, and brought up to the laborious avocations of an agricultural life. Of his scholastic attainments he thus speaks in his " Epistle to the Critics :" — " Then know, wlien I these pieces made, Was toiling for my d.aily bread : A scanty learning I enjoy'd, Sae judge how I hae it employ'd. T ne'er depended for my knowledge On school, a<;ademy, nor college ; I gat my leamin' at the flail, An' some I catch 'd at the plough-tail. Amang the brutes I own I'm bred, [ Since herding was my native trade. Some twa-three books I read wi' care, Which I had barrow'd here an' there. Tlie actions an' the ways o' men, I took great pains an' care to ken ; Frae them, their manners, an' their looks, Their words, their actions, an' frac books ; On these for knowledge I relied, Without anither for ray guide. » Latin an' Greek I never knew sic, ■ An' sae how can my works be classic ?" Here the author admits his ignorance of classical learning, and is apparently quite unambitious of the honours of scholarship. m H l=( DAVID SILLAR. 39 That he had a turn for books, and was known in the circle of his friends by his attempts at " haniely westlan' jingle," will readily be conceded. Like Burns, he was a son of toil — assisting in the cultivation of the farm, which was chiefly managed by his father and brothers ; and the similarity of fortune may not have been without its effect in cementing the friendship Avhich obtained be- twixt the rustic aspirants for poetic fame. " At the time he (Sillar) became intimate with the family of William Buniess," says Cunningham, " he kept the parish school ; Robert, who never neglected an opportunity of obtaining knowledge, cultivated his acquaintance, and was his frequent companion in excursions among the hills and vales of Kyle, to look at the beauties of na- ture, animate and inanimate." It is true that David Sillar did keep the parish school for a month or two during the vacancy, previous to the appointment of John Wilson, the " Hornbook o"" the clachan ;" but the intimacy of the Poets must have com- menced at a much earlier period. The " First Epistle to Davie" bears unquestionable witness of the fact : — " Think 3'e, tliat sic as you and /, Wha drudge and drwa thro' wet and, dry, Wi' never-ceasing toil ; Think ye, are we less blest than they, Wha scarcely tent us in their way, As hardly worth their while?" Had Sillar been at this time teacher of the parish school, or in- deed of any other school. Burns could not with any degree of propriety have expressed himself so pointedly, in allusion to the rustic and laborious nature of their occupations. In the Kilmar- nock and Edinbvirgh editions, the Epistle is dated " January ■ ;" but, from the recollections of Gilbert Burns, who thinks his brother first read it to him in the summer of 1784, the poem, in most of the recent editions, is set down as a production of that year. To us, however, it appears obvious that the proper date ought to be January 1782, Sillar having removed from the parish of Tarbolton towards the close of 1783. William Burness (or Burns, as afterwards altered by the Poet) and family came to the farm of Lochlca in 1777; and, in Llie •iO DAVID STLLAR. absence of direct information, there is reason to suppose that the intimacy of the youthful Poets had its origin in 1780, or begin- ning of 1781. In the former year Burns instituted the Bachelor's Club — a debating society in Tarbolton, of which Sillar did not become a member till May 1781 ; and it is presumable from his character, that, had they been earlier acquainted, he would have been among the first to enrol his name. Sillar, though he docs not mention the precise period, has himself recorded the circumstances that led to their first introduction : — " Robert Bums,"" he says, " was some time in the parish of Tarbolton, prior to my acquaintance with him. His social dispo- sition easily procured him acquaintance ; but a certain satirical seasoning with which he and all poetical geniuses are in some degree influenced, Avhile it set the rustic circle in a roar, was not unaccompanied Avith suspicious fear. I recollect hearing his neigh- bours observe he had a great deal to say for himself, and that they suspected his principles. He wore the only tied hair in the parish ; and in the church, his plaid, which was of a particu- lar colour, (I think fillemot,) he wrapped in a peculiar manner round his shoulders. These surmises and his exterior made me solicitous of his acquaintance. I was introduced by Gilbert not only to his brother, but to the whole of that family, where in a short time I became a frequent, and I believe not unwelcome, visitant. After the commencement of my acquaintance with the Bard, we frequently met upon Sundays at church, when, between sermons, instead of going with our friends or lasses to the inn, we often took a walk in the fields. In these walks, I have often been struck with his facility in addressing the fair sex ; and many times when I have been bashfully anxious how to express myself, he would have entered into conversation with them with the great- est ease and freedom ; and it was generally a death-blow to our conversation, however agreeable, to meet a female acquaintance. Some of the few opportimities of a noontide walk that a country life allows her laborious sons, he spent on the banks of the river, or in the walks in the neighbourhood of Stair. Some book or other he always carried to read when not otherwise employed ; it was likewise his custom to read at table." DAVID SILLAR. 41 At tlie period alluded to, the family of William Burness still occupied the farm of Lochlea, situated about two miles from Spittleside; a distance not so great in a rural district as to prove a barrier in the way of friendly intercourse. In days when " rock- ings" were more frequent than they are now, it was no uncommon thing to travel eight or ten miles to a social meeting. That Burns, the elder of the two both in years and genius, cul- tivated the acquaintance of David Sillar with the view of profit- ing by the superior education of the latter, is altogether fabulous ; the thirst for knowledge may be more properly considered to have been mutual, each feeling inspired by a latent hope that he might one day or other be distinguished in the minstrelsy of his native country. We are not, however, to suppose them the ascetic worshippers of " nature, animate and inanimate," which their oc- casional wanderings among the " Craigs o' Kyle" might indicate. To be merry as well as wise was a practical axiom of their philo- sophy, and none were capable of contributing more to the hilarity of those occasional meetings, which still obtain to a considerable extent among the peasantry. With a greater degree of prudence, or diffidence perhaps, than his more celebrated contemporary, David Sillar possessed no inconsiderable share of that love of ad- venture and rustic intrigue so happily depicted in the " Winter Evening Tales" of the Ettrick Shepherd. Burns and he had often officiated as " black soles" to each other ; and we give Cunningham due credit for the following anecdote : — " David was acquainted with the nursery-maid of Stair, Margaret Orr,* and it is to this young woman that Bums alludes when he says in his epistle — ' Ye love your Meg, your dearest part, And I my darling Jean.' The Bard of Mosgiel accompanied his friend on one of these visits, and, as some of the lasses sung well, he gave them one or * Margaret Orr was bom at Kilwinning, where her father was a road-contractor, but he afterwards removed to Tarbolton. She married Mr John Paton, a master shoemaker in Edinburgh, where she died on the 22d Jan. 1S37, leaving a son, a respectable boot- maker in Circus Place. Her brother John, wlio was one of the last members of the Duduilor's did) at Tarbolton, died there on tlic 29th Jan. 1837, aged seventy-seven. 42 DAVID SILLAR. two of his songs. Mrs Stewart happened by chance to see one of these compositions, and was so niucli pleased with its grace and tenderness, that she desired to be told when the author visited Stair again. It was in this way his acquaintance with that ac- complished lady began ; and, many years afterwards, the Poet told Miss Stewart that, when requested to walk into the drawing- room to be introduced to her mother, he suffered more than he would like to suifer again. ' Indeed,'' he said, ' I endured such palpitation of heart as I never afterwards experienced among ' Lords and ladies of high degree' "* At this period the pure rusticity of the Poet was compara- tively untainted, and he had not even dreamed of those intoxi- cating scenes afterwards spread out for him by the " Embro^ Gentles ;" but both Burns and Daintie Davie "were known for a liberality of sentiment, and a love of pleasure, not altogether in accordance with the orthodox notions of propriety entertained by their Calvinistic neighbours. Happily for Sillar, if he was out- stripped in the race for poetic fame, he had the strength of mind to resist those temptations, to which, in the vortex of a larger aiid more overwhelming circle, his distinguished friend fell an early victim. Though " bred among the brutes,"''' to use his own expression, David Sillar never manifested any great penchant for hard labour; and he appears at an early period to have contemplated embracing some other occupation more congenial to his taste. Having add- ed to his boyish attainments at school, by the perusal of such books as came in his wav, and by a renewal of his knowledge of grammar and arithmetic, he prepared himself for undertaking the arduous duties of a preceptor. As already mentioned, he taught the parish school for a short period, probably in the expectation of being continued as teacher. Disappointed, however, he after- * " This introduction," continues Cunningham, " is supposed to have taken place in 1784 •, and, if this date is correct, Mrs Stewart must he hereafter regarded as one of the first in Ayrshire, above the Poet's rank in life, who perceived his genius, and treated him with respect." We are inclined to think that this introduction must have taken place at a still earlier pciiod, as David Sillar had the year before been settled in Irvine — a distance of at least fourteen miles from Stair. DAVID SILLAR. -iS wards opened a small school at Commonside, near the village of Tarbolton ; but, finding the speculation any thing but profitable, the taws were speedily thrown aside for the more stimulating- attractions of trade. David commenced business as a grocer in Irvine* towards the close of 1783, being then in his twenty-third year. Writing to a friend, in January 1786, he says — " It is twa years, an' something niair, Sin' I left Kyle i' this same shire, An' cam' to trade, an' think, an' fare, Like ither men, "Side Irvine banks, an' country fair O' Kinnikem."t One would naturally suppose that, in coming to " trade, an' think, an' fare, like ither men," David had abandoned the visions of love and poesy in which he had indulged with his brother Bard, while wandering by the banks of the " gurgling Ayr"" or " mystic Fale ;" but such was not the case. Many of his pub- lished poems bear the impress of the locality of Irvine ; and the few first years of his residence there, seem to have been devoted with more than usual earnestness in urging his suit with the Muses. Sillar had probably never entertained any serious intention of coming before the public as an author, until prompted by the ex- traordinary success of the Poet of Mosgiel. In July 1786, ap- peared the Kilmarnock edition of Burns ; and, in 1789, fi'om the same press, followed the " Poems, by David Sillar." The volume (8vo,) now extremely scarce, consists of two hundred and forty-seven pages, and in point of typograpliy is highly credit- able to the provincial printer. The Poems were dedicated to Hugh Montgomery, Esq. of Skelmorlie, afterwards Earl of Eglin- ton, and prefaced by the following introduction : — " Mankind in general, but particularly those who have had tlie advantage of a liberal education, may deem it presumption in the author, who has been denied that privilege, to attempt either instruction or amusement. But however necessary a learned educa- tion may be in Divinity, Philosophy, or the Sciences, it is a foct that some of the best * His shop was one of those under the Tolbooth, and next to the Council-Cham- bers ; for Irvine is still old-f;ishioncd enough to have the scat of justice and the cell of punishment conspicuously pl.aced in tlic centre of the main street. + Cunninghame, one of the districts of Ayrshire. tt DAVID SILLAR. Poetical Performances amongst us have been composed by illiterate men. Natural genius alone is sufficient to constitute a Poet : for, the imperfections in tlic works of many poetical writers, whicli are ascribed to want of education, may, he believes, with more justice, be ascribed to want of genius. He leaves every person to judge of his by his writings. The following pieces were composed just as the objects they treat of struck his imagination ; and, if they give otliers the same pleasure in reading which they gave him in composing, he will have the satisfaction of obtaining his principal end in publishing. " The design of the author in this publication is by no means to offend, but to in- struct and amuse ; and altliough some, wth greater judgment and sagacity, might have steered a more prudent course for themselves, yet he is conscious, however he may be treated, of having kept clear of personal reflections. The approbation of the judicious, though few, will always support him under the censures of tlie superstitious and preju- diced, and inspire him with a proper disregard for popular applause. " For the liberal encouragement his respectable and numerous subscribers has given him, the author returns his sincere thanks : " For back'd by them, his foes, thro' spite. May girn their fill, but darena bite." On glancing over the volume of David Sillar, we are at once struck with the truth of his own axiom — that the ill success of Poets proceeds as often from lack of genius as from a deficiency of education. His Pegasus is none of the thorough-bred Me- dusian blood, and is sometimes so " be-devilFd wi"* the spavie," that it is with difficulty she can be kept on the road. With all, and even more than, the occasional grossness and indelicacy of Bui-ns, he is entirely deficient in that happy strain of humour and gaiety of fancy which alone can barely suffice to extenuate a breach of propriety. His advice to the " Lasses of Irvine" is highly judicious, but too immodest to be wholly quoted : — " The time o' youth's a pleasin' time. For lasses young an' dainty. Before they pass out owre the line, Hae aften lads in plenty : But gif they chance to pass their prime, Braw wooers then grow scant aye ; Then dinna, tlio' your sun does shine. Think ye'll get leave to rant aye VVi' lads ilk day. But while that plenty ye can get, Wale ane out for yoursel', lass : ] For when your sun is fairly set, Ye'll niavbe ohoose a dull ass. DAVID SILLAR. 45 I've seen young lasses tak' the pet, Tho' nane were but themser fause, AVhen auld, set out themsel's to let, An' bought, thro' greed, for auld brass, AfF han' some day." ♦ * * Burns sang in praise of Avhisky. David Sillar took up an op- posite strain ; and, if he displays less poetic fire, there is at all events sound sense, and not a few passable stanzas in the poem of the latter : — " Poets, wi' muckle wit an' skill, Hae sung the virtues o' Scots yill ; An' wi' the worth o' Highlan' gill Our ears hae rung : The bad efFects o' whisky still Remain unsung. I'm saLr surprised how whisky poison, Frac men o' sense, has got sic fi-aisin' : They might hae sung, wi' greater reason, Gude caller water, Which cheaper is in ony season. An' slockens better. Hail ! caller bum ! chief o' Scots drink ! To purchase thee we need nae clink : Just lout out owre a bumie's brink. An' tak' our fill ; 'Twill neither mak' us glow'r nor wink. Like whisky gill. But whisky, warst o' Scotlan's curses, Than it I ken o' nane that worse is ; It mak's poor bodies draw their purses. Though hunger stare, An' pawn their dudds for't afF their , An' rin threadbare. The whisky trade — deil cares wha had it : My curse on him at first wha made it ; May't doubly light ou those wha spread it, An' drinkin' cherish ; Lord toom their pouch, an' clip their credit. For fear wc perish. Whaever at their wark wad thrive, Sud a' wi' ane anither strive. 46 DAVID SILLAR. To keep a sense o' Bliamc alive, AVitliiii tlicir sphere. An' no let whisky-drinkin' Jrive Them to despair. I've seen chicls aft-timcs i' their daffiu Sit down to tak' a social ehappin ; But ere tlicy raise, wi' their gif-gaffin, Ilae bred a brulzic. Was like to en' their mirth an' laughin' In bitter tulzic. When kintra fo'k gang till a roup ; Wee blastet ghaist ! the whisky stoup Aft gars them claw a ragget doup — Their fear it buries, Then gars them dance hap-stap-an'-loup. An' bid like furies. It mak's men to their passions blin', It mak's young lasses vmco kin' : Fill ten o' them, I'll wad there's nine Their fame wad spatter, Whase characters wad catch nae stain Frae caller water. It tak's the best bits o' the' fiel' ; It robs our markets o' gude meal ; It aft-times mak's the simple chiel Baith fe' and swagger ; And turns him aft a ne'er-do-weel, Or randy beggar. It mither is o' much offence ; It borders aye on some mischance ; It leads poor mortals aft a dance. Shame to be seen ! Then leaves them in a drunken trance, Fyled to the een. A wee drap whisky's unco gude ; It cheers the heart, an' warms the blood. An' puts our spirits in gude mood ; But tent ncist verse : Owre muckle o't pits fo'k red wood. An' sometimes warsc. ' I own a man brought frae the hill. Clap in his cheek a Highlan' gill ; DAVID SILLAR. 47 Say, such is Royal George's will. An' there's the foe, He'll liae nae thought but how to kill Twa at a blow.'* But gie him whisky till he's fou, Then o' his actions tak' a view ; Poor dorted deil ! what can he do In sic debauches, But curse, blaspheme, swear, bock, an' spue — The wretch o' wretches ! I've seen (an' aft my heart's been wae) Unthinkin' mortals led astray ; By whisky made a certain prey. First to dejection, Then led by b*'"ds the beaten way To their destruction. O' a' ye Lords wha rule the nation. An' Commoners o' ev'iy station, Ye'll send the kintra to d-mn-tion. An' that ye'll see. Whene'er ye grant the distillation O' curst whisky. f But tak' your chance, gif yc do grant it, I'll lay my lugs ye'll be affrontet : Ye'll maybe sair some day repent it AVhen past remead. That ever whisky free was ventet On this side Tweed. By grantin' it, ye're maybe thinkin' Your rent at Beltan ye'll get clinkin' ; But, deil-ma'-care ! ye'll get a jinkin' Vrill gar you glunch. When rents are spent by tenants drinkin' Your whisky-punch. I spcakna this like frantic fools. Or children o' the prophet's schools, Wha at this warkj arc merely tools AVithont reflection ; I point out facts, an' nature's rules Gic me direction. Jitirns. + Written before tiic passing of tbe Distillation Act. + Foretelling future events. 48 DAVID SILLAR. But no to niak' mac words about it, Those wlia believe it not may donbt it, An' bouse till anco they're fairly goutet, • An' then they'll ken, If they, or those wha live without it, . . „ I Are wisest men. i The only specimen recorded of Sillar*'s correspondence with Burns, though the date is not mentioned, evidently refers to the period betwixt the publication of the first and second editions of his friend's poems : — " While Reekie's barJs your muse commen'. An' praise the numbers o' your pen. Accept this liin'ly frae a frien'. Your Dainty Davie, Wha aee o' hearts does still remain. Ye may believe me. I ne'er was muckle gi'en to praisin', Or else ye might be sure o' fraisin' : For trouth, I tliink, in solid reason, Your kintra reed Plays sweet as Robin Fergusson, Or his on Tweed.* Your Luath, C'cesar bites right sair ; An' when ye paint the Holt/ Fair, Ye draw it to a very hair ; Or when ye turn, An' sing the follies o' the Fair, How sweet ye mourn ! Let Collars plains wi' me rejoice. An' praise the worthy Bard whose lays, Their worth and beauty high doth raise To lasting fame ; His works, his wortli, will ever praise An' crown his name. Brave Ramsay now an' Fergusson, Wha hae sae lang time fill'd the Throne O' Poetry, may now lie down Quiet i' their urns, Since fame, in justice, gies the crown To Coila's Burns. * Ramsay. DAVID SILLAR. Hail, happy Bard ! ye're now confest The king o' singers i' the west : Edina hath the same exprest ; Wi' joy they fin' That ye're, when tried by Nature's test, Gude sterlin' coin. Sing on my frien', your fame's secured, An' still maintain the name o' Bard ; But yet tak' tent an' keep a guard. For Envy's tryin' To blast your name ; mair just reward For the envyin'. But tho' the tout o' Fame may please you. Let na the flatterin' ghaist o'erheeze you : Ne'er flyte nor fraise tae gar fo'k roose you. For men o' skill, When ye write weel, will always praise you Out o' gude will. Great numbers on this earthly ba', As soon as death gies them the ca'. Permitted are to slide awa', An' straught forgot — Forbid that ever this should fa' To be your lot. I ever had an anxious wish. Forgive me, Heaven ! if 'twas amiss. That Fame in life my name would bless. An' Idn'ly save It from the cruel tyrant's crush. Beyond the grave. Tho' the fastest liver soonest dies, An' length o' days sud mak' anc wse ; Yet liaste wi' speed, to glory rise. An' spur your horse ; They're shortest aye wlia gain the prize Upo' the course. Sae to conclude, auld frien' an' ncebor, Your muse forgetna weel to feed lier. Then steer through life wi' birr an' vigour To win a horn, Whase soun' sliall reach uyont the Tiber 'Mang ears unborn." 49 50 DAVID SILLAR. This epistle elicited the following reply from Burns : — " Auld Necbor, Tni tlii'ce times doubly owre your debtor, For your aulJ-lUrrcnt, tVicu'ly letter ; Tlio' I maun say't, I doubt yc flatter, Yc speak sae fair ; For uiy puir, silly, rbymiu' clatter Some less maun sair. Hale be your bcart, hale be your fiddle ; Lang may your elhuck jink an' diddle, Tae cheer you thro' the weary widdle O' war'ly cares, Till bainis' bairns kindly ciuldle Your auld gray hairs. But Davie, lad, I'm red yc're glaikit ; I'm tauld the muse ye hae neglcckit ; An' gif it's sae, ye sud be lieket Until ye fyke : Sic hauns as you sud ne'er be faikit. Be hain't wha like. For me, I'm on Parnassus' brink, Rivin' the words tae gar them clink •, AVhyles daez't wi' love, whyles daez't wi' drink, Wi' jads or masons ; An' whyles, but aye owre late, I think Braw sober lessons. Of a' the thoughtless sons o' man, Commen' me to the Bardie clan ; Except it be some idle plan O' rhymin' clink, Tlie devil-hact, that I sud ban. They ever think. Nae thought, nae view, nae scheme o' livin', Nae cares tae gie us joy or grievin' ; But just the poucliie put the nicve in, An' while ought's there. Then, hiltie-skiltie, we gae scrivin'. An' fash nae niair. Leeze me on rhyme ! it's aye a treasure. My chief, amaist my only pleasure ; At hame, a-fiel', at wark or leisure, The muse, ])nor hizzie ! DAVID SILLAR. 51 Tho' rough an' raploch be lier measure, She's seldom lazy. Haud tae the muse, my dainty Davie : The warl' may play you monie a shavie ; But for the muse, she'll never leave ye, The' e'er sae puir, Na, even tho' limpin' wi' the spavie Frae door tae door." * We have already quoted enough for the reader to form a pretty fair estimate of the poetic talent of the Bard of Irvine. There is one other piece, however, recording a rather humorous adven- ture, which we may not be altogether warranted in withholding. It is the tale of " TUNCAN AN' TONNEL ; OR THE EFFECTS O' WHISKY. Tuncan an' Tonnel on a time. As you tlie tale shall hear, Gade baith awa' for Irisli lime ; Hersel's the poat tid steer. Her poat was young, an' in her prime, An' -whisky did 'em cheer ; They pat as muckle i' their wame As kecpet them frae fear An' dread that day. Before the win' they spread their sail. An' for Belfast did bear ; An' wi' a brisk an' prosp'rous gale. Soon 'yont the Craig did steer. When they arrived, they roar'd out hail, ' Fait she'll pe station here ;' Syne heaved an anchor owre her tail, An' made her fast, for fear She'd tine that day. When a' was fast, they baitli gade out. Their limestanes for to pought ; Twa whisky jars they bure about, To quench their Ilielan' drought. David prefixed these verses to his volume of Poems. r)2 DAVID SILLAR. An' when they finish'd had their route, An' j,'ottcn a' they soiiglit, A Lawlan' packman, young an' stout, Wad fain hae them to freight Him owre that day. Quo' Tonnel, ' Fait we'll tak' her owre, Her pc an' honest Scots ; We'll gang t' Arran in twal hour, An' gar her pay twa Croats, Come gies a tram, the clock pe four, Here's to our ponny poats : Peugh, whare pe't now ? Come, gies ane more ; The worry's in her throats O stoure this day.' The night grew dark, but far frac calm, AVhich threaten'd them wi' skaithing ; Hersel's took aye the tither dram. But gied the packman naething. Yet lucky 'twas for pedlar Tarn, Hersel's pe forgot ae thing, Or else the sea wadna been lang O' stappin' them frae breathing, Wi' brine that night. When lang sax hours they toss'd had been. An' Tam, 'maist kill'd wi' fear. Right fain wad ken where they were in ; Sae at hersel' did speer. ' Gae sell t'y needle ! sell t'y prin ! ' Quo' Tuncan wi' a sneer : ' Fait Ilsa Craig '11 soon pe seen ; Come, gies a tram to cheer Her up this night.' Wi' drinkin' drams hersel's had past Fu' cheerily the night ; But honest Tam through fear did fast Until the mornin' light. ' Lort !' Tuncan cries, ' Arran at last, 1 Come steer the poat aright ;' ] But Tam did swear it was Belfast, ' j An' not the Gaitfiel height '\ They saw neist day. ^ i i Then Tonnel roar'd, and gied a girn, ' An' Tuncan loud did cry, !, DAVID SILLAR. 53 ' Tid ye no lift tae gi\ipple aim ?' ' Na, Tuucan, fait not I !' ' Come traws "im now •, see Tam, my paim, Te sailin' we tid try ; Put Hielan' peats no' be say leam As sail when they pe ty, In a tark night.' But Tam gat out wi' birr an' speed, Syne conn'd his Maker thanks, Wha frae sic danger had him freed, An' set him on his shanks. Resolved anither course to tread, Nor trust mair to their pranks ; Sae curst their Hielan' whisky-greed. An' went on hoard a Manks, For Ayr neist day." David, as -we have already stated, "was fond of music ; and Burns, in his epistle already quoted, bears ample testimony to his practice as a violin player — " Lang may your elbuck jink and diddle" * — but he appears to have had no talent whatever for song-writing. Among the few songs in his volume there is not one at all worthy of the smallest notice. Though as far surpassed in his attempts to woo the muse, as he Avas exceeded by Burns in courting the lasses of Kyle, the Poems of David Sillar nevertheless bear the impress of intelli- gence, and of a mind considerably in advance of the mass around him. In the poem entitled " Satan's Complaint, or the Vision," he vindicates the character of " Auld Nick"" in a manner which must have exposed him to considerable censure. In his epistle to Lapraik (for he also aspired to the honour of a correspondence with the unfortunate but facetious Bard of Muirkirk) he broaches subjects of a controversial nature, any thing but agreeable to the rigidly orthodox. Dismissing the poetical lucubrations of Sillar, we shall en- deavour to trace the author through the subsequent events of * David Sillar was the composer of the air to which Burns wrote the words of " A rose-bud bv mv carlv walk." £>* DAVID SILLAR. his history. In Avriting to a friend about tlie year 1786, lie says — " If wait on trade, I plainly see That trade will then propitious be." " Keep thy shop, and thy shop will keep thee," is the adage of Poor Richard ; but to this, unfortunately, David did not adhere. The getting up of his volume abstracted his attention from bu- siness ; and the ill success of his poetical adventure, tended so much to his ruin that he soon became bankrupt, and was incar- cerated for the trifling sum of five pounds. In his extremity he wrote to one of his brothers, soliciting pecuniary assistance to that amount, but was refused. This circumstance is the more Avorthy of notice as it made a lasting impression on his mind, and was probably not without its influence in effecting a decided change in his disposition and feelings. Shortly after his failure, David paid a visit to Edinburgh, with what view it is impossible to say ; but, disappointed in his pros- pects in that quarter, he returned to Irvine, and there had recourse to his former profession of teacher. His school was for some time very thinly attended, his scholars consisting chiefly of grown up seamen who sought to be instructed in navigation — a branch of education in which his knowledge must have been for some time rather limited. Such was his application, however, that he gra- dually surmounted the difficulties with which he was surrounded ; and, in the course of a few 3rears, his school increased so much as to yield him an income of nearly a hundred pounds a-year. His success in life was now established, but better fortune still awaited him. Besides himself, there Avere three other brothers of the Spittleside family, two elder and one younger. The eldest, Robert, left the farm at an early period to learn the business of soap-boiling with a relative, Mr James Gibb,* who commenced * Mr Gibb was a native of Mauchline. He was a speculative, active, business sort of man, though not so fortunate in the world as might at one time have been expected from the extent and apparent prosperity of his transactions. He began business in Ayr as a grocer, and had his shop at the corner of the Fish Cross, where he latterly built the extensive premises now occupied by Mr George M'Taggart. The soap-manufnctory was at the Townhcad of Ayr, in a range of old buildings on tlic right side of the road DAVID SILLAR. 55 an extensive establishment for the manufacture of that article at Ayr, about the year 1770. He afterwards proceeded to Liver- pool, where, entering into business as a general merchant, he was so successful that John, the next brother, was soon induced to follow. In the course of a few years the two brothers engaged extensively in the trade with Africa, whither John latterly re- moved, to conduct their affairs in that quarter of the world ; and thus, while the golden ball of fortune was at their feet, David was quietly but assiduously superintending his school, and en- joying the comforts of domestic life (for he had married soon after coming to Irvine,*) with a rising family of children surrounding the hearth. Extremely economical in his management, the em- barrassments he had encountered, and the aid he had solicited in vain when on the brink of ruin and despair, seem to have inspired him with the resolution of acquiring a competency ; and it is to this feeling, we doubt not, may be attributed the somewhat parsi- monious habits of his after life. On the death of his younger brother William, who had suc- ceeded his father in the farm of Spittleside, the lease, of which a few years had still to run, besides a considerable sum of money, fell into the hands of David. Resolving, however, not to relin- leading to Portpatrick. There are many curious anecdotes told of Mr Gibb, the au- thenticity of which, however, it would be difficult to substantiate. In the multiplicity of business in which his hands were engaged, liis active and inventive intellect found ample scope ; and it frequently required all his ingenuity to keep the machinery in motion. lie was, we believe, more than once bankrupt ; still he contrived to renew the struggle with fresh vigour, until, compelled to abandon his lofty speculations, he at length went to Liverpool, where he experienced great kindness from his old apprentice Mr Sillar, liy whom he was left an annuity of one hundred pounds. One conspicuous monument of Mr Gibb's lofty dreamings still remains. We mean the splendid mansion- house in the immediate vicinity of the Townhcad, now occupied by David Limond, Esq. of Dalblair. It was built by Mr Gibb about thirty years ago ; and was then, and still is, by far the most elegant and capacious residence in the neighbourhood of Ayr. The building of the palace was undertaken in consequence of some money left him, or ob- tained from abroad. The plan, however, proved too magnificent for his means ; and, we believe, he was never able fully to complete it. It is said, but for the truth of this we do not vouch, that he entertained the hope of connecting himself with the I'ecrage of Scotland, by obtaining the hand of a daughter of the Earl of Dumfries. * He married a Mrs Kerr, whope maiden name was Margaret Gemmell, belonging til that town. 56 DAVID SILLAR. quisli his school, he prudently contrived that Mrs Sillar* should spend the greater portion of her time at Spittleside, while he re- mained in Irvine, invariably repairing, however, on the Saturdays to the farm. This Avas hut the beginning, as it were, of his good fortune. His brother John, who died in Africa some years be- fore this, left a considerable sum in his favour ; but owing to some intricacy in the affiiirs of the concern, in connection with his partner, a Mr Walker, it was in vain he sought for a settle- ment. In reply to his request for a statement, one was forward- ed, from which it was made to appear that no balance was due. At length, however, about the year 1811, his elder brother Robert also died ; and, as he had no children, the whole of his money and effects fell to David, after paying several annuities and a fixed sum to Dr Sillar, the only son of the latter. No one ever knew, as he was particularly cautious on the subject, what might be the amount of the fortune to which he succeeded, but it must have been considerable. The misunderstanding with the partner of John, on the death of that individual, came to be decided by arbitration, when the sum of ^12,000, which had been locked up for so many years in Chancery, was divided betwixt David and the heirs of Mr Walker. Thus become rich as he began to bor- der on advanced age, Mr Sillar abandoned the school immedi- ately after the death of his elder brother. Judging of him in his later life, few perhaps would have been inclined to coincide in the justice of the title of " the ace o"* hearts" bestowed upon him by Burns ; but circumstances are seldom without their influence in moulding the character of the individual ; and the events to which we have alluded were calcu- lated in no trifling degree to affect the natural current of his disposition, which was lively and social : — " For me my liairum-skairiim head, Mair stuffed \vi' nonesense than wi' greed, * By this time his first wife was dead. Mrs Sillar, secundus, was a sister of the i late John Bryan, of the Sun Inn, Kilmarnock, wlio was an admirable specimen of the a well-bred landlord of the old school. He was extensively known, and highly respected I by all classes of the commimity. ■ DAVID SILLAR. Oi Wad never halt to win my bread, But rin a-bizin', Convoy'd through life by rhyme an' need Ayont twa dizen/' In allusion to the want of success which attended his early exertions, he has been frequently heard to say, that five pounds from his brother at the time of his incarceration, would have done him more good than all the wealth he had afterwards left him. Those who knew Mr Sillar intimately, speak of him as a man of stern justice ; sometimes generous, though not ostentatious in the bestowal of his benevolence. The only public bequests he is known to have made were two donations, of ^50 each, at differ- ent periods, to the Academy of Irvine, by which he became a director of that institution for life. On the subject of his good fortune, he remarked that " many will now be inclined to take me by the hand, who would not look to me before. It is not to me they pay court, but to the money; but those who were my friends before shall be my friends still." And it is said he kept his word in this respect. With an old brother of the taws — a Mr Montgomery — he was in the habit of meeting every Saturday afternoon, to enjoy a game or two at draughts. Should any thing have prevented the pastime on that particular day, he Avas sure to make up for the interruption on some other occasion. It may be imagined, from his character in later life, that he had entirely abandoned the company of the tuneful Nine as unprofitable. This was not the case, however ; once perpetrate the crime of authorship, and it is impossible to eradicate the cacoethes scribendi. To record his thoughts upon passing events, and embody the workings of his fancy in poetic numbers, was with him a favourite amusement ; but we are not aware that any of his more recent productions were ever communicated to the public. Next to the pleasure of composing, was the gratification he experienced in reading his effusions to a fcAv select friends. Much of his time was also devoted to music — the dulcimer beinir his favourite instrument; and nothing gave him greater delight than to engage with a friend in discussing the contents of a jug n .58 DAVID SILLAR. of todily by his parlour fire, telling old tales, or rummaging over his manuscripts. Mr Sillar used to take considerable credit to himself for never having attended public worship in any place in Irvine but the Established Church, except on two occasions. His friend, Mrs Stewart of Aftou Lodge, had requested him to send her some account of the Buchanites, who were at that time making con- siderable noise in Irvine : he accordingly attended their meetings for two evenings. Mr Whyte, who had observed him taking- notes, addressed him at the close of the service, and said he hoped the notes had been taken in the spirit they were given. Sillar replied that the notes were taken with the design of giving information to a friend, and begged Mr Whyte to look over them to see if they were correct. Mr Whyte did so, and said they were fairly taken. Siliar regretted much that he had not retained copies of these letters, as he could never recover the originals.* It Avill readily be conceived that he was proud of his intimacy with Burns, on whose account his company was courted by strangers of every degree of rank. Among others who sought his friend- ship was Lieut. Charles Gray, himself a poet of more than com- mon attainments. The Lieutenant had previously addressed the following lines to him : — " EPISTLE TO MR DAVID SILLAR, Irvine. This freedom in an mihnoivn frien' ^ I j)ray eavuse. — BuaNS. Will Biir7is\ late fricn' an' bosom cionie, List to my lays, tlio' far frae bonnie ? AVill he, wha lives fu' cuthe and snug. To a poor -wand'rer lend his lug ? Wha langsyne left his native plains, (Land o' ait-cakes, an' cantie strains,) An' ventured on the pathless ocean In hopes o' honour, fame, promotion ; — T>et Cynics dull this passion blame, Wha wou'dna wish to leave — a name ! * Some arrount of tiic Biichanite« will be found in the Appendix. DAVID SILLAR. 59 AVill lie, wlia strays "maug hills and woods, List to a rhymer ou the floods, AVhar Adria pours her foamin' tides, An' swift the stately vessel glides, Near rough, rude mountains theek'd wi' snaw, That simmer suns can hardly thaw ; Whar savage beasts prowl for their prey, An' men almost as wild as they ? — Yet sometimes am I wafted o'er. Near famed Italia' s flowery shore. Where all the Muses sung of yore ; But fient a ane e'er visits me — Aiblins they dinna like the sea ! An' hark ye, lad, (tho' dinna tell,) They like it nae waur than niysel' ; For, gin I cou'd but better do, Saut water ne'er shou'd weet my shoe. But, Davie, if, in twa- three year. Peace shou'd return ilk heart to cheer. Back to Auld Scotia quick I'll flie. Her cakes an' usqucbae to prie ; The auld thack house I'll cleed ance nuiir. An' whiten weel the outer stair, Au' mak' the inside snug an' bein. For weel I like to see things clean : An' nae attention shall he spared To cultivate the green kail-yard ; I'll plant my cabbage an' potatoes, An' be anither Cinchmatus ! Nae mair shall Turkish, turban'd lown Pelt me wi' stanes out o' his town ;* The Fifan plain, the Fritho' Forth, Shall bind me to the hardy North. Tho' here they boast the clust'ring vine. An' fill their gohlets high wi' wine ; Tho' bounteous Ceres swells their sheaves, Poor devils ! at the best they're slaves ! O leeze uie on thee, Scotia auld ! Though gowks may say ye'rc bleak an' canld. Your soil, be't e'er sae thin or bare. Fair Freedom's plant aye blossoms there ; * The author and another officer belonging to his Majesty's ship, Vaite, having strayed into a remote part of the city of Constantinojile, were pelted with stones by some of the inhabitants. liO , DAVID SILLAR. Voiir mountains too :irc steep an' hie, Yet on tlicir taps tliero grows a tree VVhase sacred name is — Libertie ! An' though our bev'ragc is but whisky. Thank G-d, we drink it free an' frisky ; An' tho' we pay right weel in taxes, Nae tyrant e'er our purse-neck raxes ; Our barley fields, then, wha'd resign To live a slave ancath a vine ? Gif i' the warld lurks sic a knave. He weel deserves to be a slave ! Your cronie, ^Vill,* is hale an' weel, Dealiti' his blister, drug, an' peel ; In short, we'd be ill aff without him. He's nae Sangrado tricks about him. Nor like Jock Hornhooh i' the Clachan, AVha set e'en Death himscl' a-latighin' : But he wi' care o' ilka creature Aids an' assists auld Madam Nature ; An' Nature, Davie, let me tell Is nae bad doctor o' hcrsel'. I'm unco proud to ca' him frien'. An' aft we walk the deck at e'en ; There, aften to beguile the time, I rant him owre a blaud o' rhyme, Frae chiels wha weel cou'd tune the reed. An' still delight us, tho' they're dead ; An' sometimes, whan our Immour's frisky, I rane owre ' The EflFects o' Whisky ;' How Tuncan set the flowin' sail. An' spread it wide to catch the gale ; But, swiggin' deeply at the tankard, Tonnel forgot the boat was anchor'd : Sae toss'd an' tumbled a' the night. Which put the packman in a fright ; Whan mornin' cam' they gae a girn, An' drew on board ' the grapple aim ;' An' tauld poor Tam, ' tho' we tid try. Our poats no learn to sail when ty !' Sometimes Auld Scotia is our theme. An' a' the frien's we left at hame ; * The friend of Mr Sillar here alluded to was a William Bryan, a brother's son of his wife. He was originally brought up to the business of a carpenter, but afterwards became a surgeon. He died on board a man-of-Avar, leaving about £500. DAVID SILLAR. That subject never fails to please. What airt soever blaws the breeze •, Gude keep them a' frae want an' haiTU, We aften pray wi' hearts fu' warm : For Willie is (the'' somewhat bluff) A piece o' Nature's sterling stuff. An', for his frien's and country's weel, Wad brave, Gude save's ! the vera Diel. When storms ai'ise, and wild winds blow. We often ' stagger to and fro ;' Oft, while the sons of lux'ry sleep. We ' view the wonders of the deep ;' When o'er our heads fly dark thick clouds, And howling winds roar thro' the shrouds, The vessel hangs high on the wave, Then sinks — as in a yawning grave ; Anon she mounts — and reels amain On the huge wave — then sinks again ; When billows threaten to o'erwhelm. The seaman at the guiding helm. With steady care the ship control, So firm and dauntless is each soul ! Oft, in its dreariest darkest form. Have I enjoy'd the rising storm. Beheld the waves roll mountain high, Commix ^\-ith clouds, and cleave the sky : The mind then quits mean things below, And feels Devotion's warmest glow ; Upward the raptured soul ascends To Him, who rides on viewless winds. Who bids the raging ocean roar, And foaming lash the rocky shore ; Who sends the whirlwind fierce abroad. And stills the tempest with a nod ! H. M. Ship Unite, Adriatic, Dec. 31, 1808." 61 Gray repeatedly visited Irvine ; and, along with Sillar, frequently attended the annual dinner of the Burns'' Club in that town.* Though he loved to dwell on the memory of the Poet, it is * The Lieutenant, who is well known in the Kingdom of Fife, is still alive and hearty. He was one of those who dined in honour of the Poet in the Regent Hotel, Waterloo Place, Edinburgh, on the 25th of .January last (1839.) '>"2 DAVID SILLAR. mentioned tliat Mlien David Sillar.was called upon to subscribe for the erection of the monument on the banks of Doon, he re- plied — " I cannot well do so. You starved him when alive, and you cannot with good grace erect a monument to him now !'' He contributed freely, however, in honouring the Bard in many other respects, both by his pen and otherwise. He was exceed- ingly displeased at Lochhart's life of Burns, and wrote a reply or criticism on the work, the substance of which, we believe, ap- peared in the Quarterly Review. He also furnished two letters respecting his early friendship with Burns, from one of which we quoted the extract given at the beginning of this article. There are a few characteristic anecdotes told of Mr Sillar. At one of the annual evening parties given on the election of the Magistrates and Town-Council, the Rev. Mr Campbell gave as a toast " The medical profession," which was immediately replied to. This was followed by another — " The learned legal profession ;" after which a dead pause ensued, in expectation that some one of the legal gentlemen present would acknowledge the honour paid to the body. At length, when the patience of the company was nearly worn out, Sillar rose, and with much solemnity of manner briefly addressed the chair — " May I be permitted a few words. One toast has been given, and an appropriate reply was elicited ; but another has been proposed, which no one has volunteered to acknowledge. I suppose the profession are consulting as to which of them should reply, none of the learned body being fond of speaking without a fee /" David Sillar was himself a member of the Town-Council of Irvine, and held the office of a magistrate for about two years. During that period he attempted various reforms in connection with the burgh, but these were chiefly of a trifling nature. He examined with characteristic narrowness into accounts, and was careful that every thing appertaining to the public institutions should be gone about with caution and economy. While in the magistracy, a drunken pauper belonging to the town came up to him one day on the street, and took hold of his arm, saying she had a cause to bring before him. The Bailie, not M'ishing to be trou- bled with her, gave her a push ; and, being much intoxicated, she DAVID SILLAR. 63 fell and broke her collar-bone. Refusing to comply with an exorbitant demand for damage sustained by the pauper, a prose- cution was raised against him, Avhich cost him upwards of £200. He used to say afterwards that he had been made to subscribe pretty handsomely to one charity, but he should take care that he should not subscribe to another. The pauper herself said that she would have been as well with the oifer made her by the Bailie as with all she got by the prosecution. When presiding one day in the Small Debt Court, a cause came before the Court from a neighbouring parish, in which a medical gentleman was pursuer and the Kirk-Session defenders. The surgeon, who had been called to attend a pauper belonging to the parish, and had performed an operation which was the means of saving the person's life, claimed remuneration. The Session resisted the claim, and the minister pleaded that justice did not demand of them to provide medical aid to their poor, and that there was no law to compel them to do so. The Court sustained the plea, and the Bailie, in addressing the minister, said — " The decision is given in your favour ; but the coat that you wear, and the office you hold, lead me to hope that your law and your jus- tice will in future be tempered with mercy." In politics, David might latterly be considered a moderate Whig. At one period of his life, during the French Republican war, he was, to use his own phrase, " politically mad," being in the receipt of twelve or thirteen newspapers weekly for himself alone. The enthusiasm of this period, however, gradually sub- sided ; and latterly his attention was almost entirely withdrawn from politics. He used to say that he had " now got out of po- litics, and he was determined to keep himself so." David Sillar died at Irvine, after an illness of some duration, on the 2d of May 1880, in the seventieth year of his age. In stature he was of the middle size ; of a fair complexion, slightly marked by the small-pox, and very near-sighted. All his manu- scripts, we believe, were destroyed before or immediately after his death. By his first wife he had several children. One of his sons, Patrick, was a midshipman, and died at Surinam. The only remaining member of the family is Dr Sillar of Liverpool. (II WILLIAM SIMPSON. WILLIAM SIMPSON, OF OCHILTREE. The poetical effusions of William Simpson liave never been given to the public ; yet, as a " rhyme-composing brither," he is well entitled to a place among the Contemporaries of Burns. He was eldest son of Mr John Simpson, farmer in Ten-Pound Land, in the vicinity of the village of Ochiltree, where his ances- tors had been located for several generations. He was educated for the Church ; but a vacancy occurring in the parish school, he accepted the appointment of teacher, and held the situation at the time his correspondence began with the Poet. " He was,'''' says Cunningham, " and is still, schoolmaster of the parish of Ochiltree ; he has performed carefully the duties of his station, and lives respected by his scholars, some of whom are to be found in the cast as well as in the west." The gifted editor of the " Songs of Scotland" has been here led into a very great mistake, for William Simpson died more than twenty years ago. He was at the time teacher of the parish school of Cumnock, having re- moved there as far back as the year 1788. He was succeeded in Ochiltree by liis brother, to whom the observations of Cun- ningham literally apply. Mr Patrick Simpson is a man above seventy-three years of age,* but comparatively stout and healthy, and exceedingly communicative on the subject of his brother''s correspondence with Burns, though it is rather surprising he should never have been consulted by any of the commentators on the works of the Poet. He is proud of having been the first who, in 1788, brought to the parish of Ochiltree a copy, which he procured in Kilmarnock, * Mr Simpson's mother, Margaret Paterson, died in 1819, aged ninety-two. Ochil- tree, we are infoimed, is favourable to longevity ; it is not long since there existed in the village six individuals, whose united ages exceeded five hundred years. WILLIAM SIMPSOX. 6-5 of the " Twa Herds" — a poem submitted anonymously to the public by Burns,* some time prior to the publication of his first edition. It was the perusal of this piece, having some know- ledge of its author, that induced William Simpson to pen a poet- ical epistle-f* to Burns, to which the latter made the following well-known reply : — " TO W. S*****N, Ochiltree. May 1785. I gat your letter, winsome Willie ; Wi' gratcfa' heart I thank you brawlie ; The' I maun say't, I wad be silly, An' unco vain, Should I believe, my coaxin' billie. Your flatt'rin' strain. But I'se believe ye kindly meant it, I sud be laitli to think ye hinted Ironic satire, sidelins sklented On my poor Music ; Tho' in sic phraisin' teiius ye've penn'd it, I scarce excuse ye. My senses wad be in a creel, Should I but dare a hope to sped Wi' Allan, or wi' Gilbertfield, The brafS o' fame ; Or Fergusson, the writer-chiel, A deathless name. (O Fergusson ! thy glorious parts ril suited law's dry musty arts ! My curse upon your whunstane hearts, Ye E'nbrugh gentry ! The tythe o' w'liat ye waste at cartes. Wad stow'd his pantry 1) Yet when a tale comes i' my head, Or lasses gic my heart a screed, As whylcs they're like to be my dead, (0 sad disease !) * " This," says Mr Simpson, " occurred in April 1783, tlirce years before the pub- lication of his Poems." + This Epistle unfortunately lias not been preserved. I 66 WILLIAM SIMPSON. I kittle u\> my rustic reed ; It gies me ease. Auld Coila now may fidge fii' fain, She's gotten poets o' her ain, Chiels wha their chanters winna hain, But tunc their lays. Till echoes a" resound again Her weel-sung praise. Nac poet thought her Morth his while To set her name in measured style ; She lay like some iinkenn'd-of isle Beside New Holland, Or whare wild-meeting oceans boil, Besouth Magellan. Ramsay an' famous Fergusson Gied Forth an' Tay a lift aboon ; Yarrow an' Tweed, to monie a tune Owic Scotland rings, While Irvine, Lugar, Ayr, an' Doon, Nae body sings. Th' missus, Tiber, Thames, an' Seine, Glide sweet in monie a tunefu' line ! But, Willie set your fit to mine. An' cock your crest, We'll gar our streams an' burnies shine Up wi' the best. We'll sing auld Coila's plains an' fells, Her moors red-brown wi' heather bells. Her banks an' braes, her dens an' dells, Where glorious Wallace . Aft burc the gree, as story tells, Frae Southron billies. At Wallace' name what Scottish blood But boils up in a spring-tide flood ! Oft have our fearless fathers strode By Wallace' side. Still pressing onward, red-wat shod, Or glorious died. O, sweet are Coila's haughs an' woods, When lintwhites chant amang the buds. And jinkin' hares, in amorous whids, Thrir lovc! rnjov. WILLIAM SIMPSON. 67 While thro' the hraes the cushat croods With wailfu' cry ! Ev'n ■winter bleak has charms to me, When wnds rave thro' the naked tree ; Or frosts on hills of Ochiltree Are hoary gray : Or blinding drifts wild-furious flee, Dark'ning the day ! O Nature ! a' thy shews an' forms To feeling, pensive hearts hae charms ! Whether the summer kindly warms Wi' life an' light. Or winter howls, in gusty storms, The lang dark night. The Muse, nae poet ever fand her Till by himsel' he learn'd to wander, Adown some trotting burn's meander. An' no think lang ; O sweet to stray an' pensive ponder A heart-felt sang ! The warly race may drudge an' drive, Hog-shouther, jundie, stretch, an' stiive. Let me fair Nature's face descrive, And I, wi' pleasure. Shall let tlie busy grumbling hive Bum owre their treasure. Fareweel, ' my rhyme-composing brither !' We've been owre lang unkenn'd to ither ; Now let us lay our heads thegither In love fraternal : May Envy wallop in a tether. Black fiend, infernal ! While Highlandmen hate tolls and taxes ; While moorlan' herds like gude fat braxics ; While terra firma on her axis Diurnal turns. Count on a friend, in faith an' practice, In Robert Burns."* The acquaintance of Bums and William Simpson was not con- * A Postscript is added to this Epistle, but the above is sufficient for our purpose. 68 WILLIAM SIMPSON. fined to epistolary intercourse ; they had many personal meetings, and that they were on terms of the closest friendship Avill appear from the following circumstances : — At a place called the Poole, not far from Ochiltree, lived Thomas Walker, tailor, a person gifted, if not with the genius, at least with the knack, of rhyme. With this individual, as " birds of a feather flock together," Mr Simpson was intimate, and no doubt had told him of the epistle he had received from Burns. Ambitious of a similar honour. Walker wrote the following letter, which has been pub- lished in several editions of the Poet's works : — " EPISTLE FROM A TAILOR TO ROBERT BURNS, A\'hat waefu' news is this I hear, Frae greeting I can scarce forbear, Folks tell me ye're gaun aff this year Out owre the sea, And lasses, wham ye lo'e sae dear, AVill greet for thee. AVeel wad I like war ye to stay. But, Robin, since ye will away, 1 hae a word yet mair to say, And maybe twa : May He protect us night an' day, That made us a\ Whare art thou gaun, keep mind frae me, Seek Him to bear thee companie, And, Robin, whan ye come to die, Ye'll won aboon. An' live at peace an' unity Ayont the moon. Some tell me, Rab, ye dinna fear To get a wean, an' curse an' swear, I'm unco wae, my lad, to hear O' sic a trade ; Could I persuade ye to forbear, I wad be glad. Fu' weel ye ken j'e'll gang to , Gin ye persist in doing ill — AVaes me ! ye're hurlin' down the hill Withouten dread, WILLIAM SIMPSON. 69 An' ye'U get leave to swear your fill After ye 're dead. There, waltli o' -women ye'll get near, But gettin' weans ye will forbear, Ye'll never say, my bonnie dear Come, gie's a kiss — Nae kissing there — ye'll gim an' sneer, An' ither hiss. O Rab ! lay by thy foolish tricks. An' steer nae raair the female sex. Or some day ye'll come through the pricks, An' that ye'll see : Ye'll find hard living wi' Auld Nicks ; I'm wae for thee. But what's this comes wi' sic a knell, Amaist as loud as ony bell, While it does mak' my conscience tell ;Me what is true, I'm but a ragget cowt mysel', Owre sib to you ! We're owre like those wha think it fit To stuff their noddles fu' o' wit, An' yet content in darkness sit, Wha shun the liglit, To let them see down to the pit. That lang dark niglit. But fareweel, Rab, I maun awa'. May He that made us keep us a', For that wad be a dreadfu' fa' And hurt us sair ; Lad, wc wad never mend ava, Sae, Rab, tak' care." Tom was a burgher ; and, though a Poet, was a respectable, honest individual, and a man of piety ; hence the strain in which he chose to lecture the Bard. The tailor's epistle had been despatched for several weeks, and still no answer from Burns. AVhat could be the matter ? Had his Bardship taken the well- meant advice amiss ? In vain did Walker attempt to account for the silence of the Poet, and he had more than once expressed Lis surprise to his friend William Simpson, who had seen the production before it was forwarded to Mosgiel, The school- 70 WILLIAM SIMPSON. master, who appears to have been a wit in his way, immediately conceived the idea of working on the credulity of the tailor, and of enjoying a laugh at his expense. He accordingly evoked the Muse, and produced the following reply : — " "What ails ye now, ye lousie , To thresh my hack at sic a pitch ? Losh man ! hae mercy wi' your natch, Your hodkin's bauld, I didna suffer half sae much Frae Daddie Auld. What tho' at times when I grow crouse, I crack wi' lassies ben the house, Is that eneugh for you to souse Your servant sae ? Gae mind your seam, yc prick the louse An' jag the flac. King David, o' poetic brief, Wrought 'mang the lasses sic mischief As fill'd his after life wi' grief An' bloody rants, An' yet he's rank'd amang the chief O' langsyne saunts. An' maybe, Tam, for a' my cants, My wicked rhymes, an' drucken rants, I'll gie auld cloven Clootie's haunts An unco slip yet, An' snugly sit amang the saunts At Davie's hip yet. But, fegs, the Session says I maun Gae fa' upo' anither plan. Than garrin' lasses cowp the cran Clean heels owrc body. And sairly thole their mither's ban Afore the howdy. This leads me on to tell for sport, IIow I did with the Session sort — Auld Clinkum at the inner port, Cried three times, ' Robin ! Come hither lad, an' answer for't, Ye're blamed for jobbin'.' Wi' pinch I put a Sunday's face on, An' snoov'd awa' before the Session — WILLIAM SIMPSON. 71 I made an open fair confession, I scorn'd to lie ; An' syne Mess John, beyond expression. Fell foul o' me." * To tliis Mr Simpson appended the signature of " Robert Bums," and despatched it to the tailor at Poole. Though he may have been supposed to smart under the castigation, Tom Walker was excessively proud of the imagined reply of Burns, and lost no time in walking over to Ochiltree, to show the Domi- nie the epistle. It required all the gravity of the latter to pre- vent a disclosure. He succeeded, however ; and it is question- able whether the tailor was ever apprized of the true author of the reply. Certainly the public is not aware of it. Happening to meet Bm-ns not long after this, Simpson informed him of the liberty he had taken with his name. " You did well," said the Poet, laughing ; " you have thrashed the tailor much better than I could have done." The two foregoing epistles have found their way into several editions of the works of Burns. The reply is invariably pub- lished as a genuine production of the Poet ; and it has been even surmised that the letter of the tailor was also his composition. The world, though it may be sceptical, is now in possession of the real history of the epistles : the one, the effusion of Thomas Walker, tailor ; the other, of William Simpson, schoolmaster at that time in Ochiltree. Besides the direct testimony of Mr Pa- trick Simpson, there are various circumstances corroborative of the fact. None of the epistles appear either in the first, second, or yet in Cmrie's edition of Bums, though it is possible they might have been withheld from insertion in the latter on the same principle that constrained the editor to suppress many other pieces, even of acknowledged merit. They were first published in a Glasgow edition, printed in 1801, 8vo, along with the cantata of the .Jolly Beggars, which was then given to the public for the first time. In reviewing the " Reliques of Burns," in 1809, the Quarterly * Five verses describing tlie Poet's interview with the Kirk-Session and the conver- sation that took place, wc consider rather immodest for insertion. 72 AVILLIAM SIMPSON. incidentally alluded to the Glasgow edition in such terms of com- mendation as to rouse the indignation of Cromek, who, in his selection of " Scottish Songs,"* refers to the epistles of Walker and Simpson in a strain of disparagement not altogether war- ranted. After reciting a verse of the " Epistle of a Tailor," he asks — " Is this the poetry of Robert Burns ?'''' " Then follows," he adds, " what is called Robert Burns' answer to the aforesaid tailor." Cromek appears to have judged correctly — neither the one epistle nor the other is " the poetry of Burns." The two pieces by William Simpson, already given, are not the only effusions preserved of his muse. He was a man of educa- tion, with no inconsiderable turn for poetry ; but he constantly resisted the temptation to appear before the world as an author. Burns urged him to publish at the same time wdth himself — " But, Willie, set your fit to mine, An' cock your crest, We'll gar our streams an' burnies shine Up wi' the best." Willie, however, would not answer to the call of his brother Poet, at least in the manner recommended. His answer was — " I write for amusement, and will never consent to publish for profit." Besides several translations, William Simpson left a MS. volume of original pieces, now in possession of his brother, the worthy schoolmaster of Ochiltree, to whom we are indebted for one or two specimens of the muse of " Winsome Willie." The following verses were addressed to " Tom Walker," the tailor, Avlio on one occasion had been complaining of the absence of the Muses. The Dominie thus satirically invokes the coy daughters of Jupiter in his friend's behalf: — " Ye Muses ! why leave ye Tom Walker so long ? His rhyme's unconnected Show he's disrespected By you, ye inspircrs of elegant song ; For, to my vexation, His versification, is frequently wrong. * Select Scottish Songs, ancient and modern ; with Critical Observations and Bio- graphical Notices, by Robert Burns. Edited by Kohert Cromek, F.R.S. Edin. and London. 1010. 2 vols. r2mo. WILLIAM SIMPSON. 73 With a*;>ect propitious ye smile upon Burns — His versification Gives strong indication Yc're naeway averse to indelicate tuiiia ; Or rather than help him, Ye surely wad skelp him, and shorten his horns. Perhaps, ye daft limmcrs, if Tom should compiwe Rhymes rude, rough, and witty, Immodest and smuttj- — Or should he the clerical foibles expose — • then, in his foil}', Perhaps ye wad wholly help Tom to compose ! But far be it from him he ere should allow A subject so awful, Immodest, unlawful ; If soberly none can find favour from you, His voice rather chooses To bid you, ye Muses, a final adieu. For Tom is a Burgher, so dare not avow One single expression Against that profession, Whose characteristic's the famous true blue Of old Orthodoxy, Faced up with good practice, our lives thro' an' thro". P.S. I send up these lines by J. W. from the school. To you, Mr Walker, head tailor in Poole, Who makes on tlie Muses this mournful comjihiint. Because they look on your productions asquint ;* While off to Mosgiel from Parnassus they canter Whenever Roh B'lnts but plays cheep on his chanter." « » * • Another specimen of Simpson's poetic vein. The subject is " Tom Walker"" again, to vhom he thus writes in condo- lence : — " TO TOM WALKER IN AlFLICTION. In sympathy your servant, M'ill, Begs leave to occupy his quill. Inquiring how ye fen' : * The tailor's vision was not t])e most d;>\cf. He used to say he could lix the one «ye on the scam and look about him with the otlicr. K / Ti WIIJJA.M IHIMPSON. Sincf tioublf haunts your little ha", Nne doubt yp're heartless nue on' ft" ; Nevevthclcss I ken Ye're nae sae very scant o' grace, Whate'er 's the dispensation, A« ere set up your squintirni facf An' fret at tribulation. No, no Tarn, ye know Tani, Whate'er 's our present plaint, Sin brocht it, nor ocht it To raise our discontent. Though life's a pilgrimage, you know, Thick interspersed with weel and woe ; For we're sic feeble creatures. Prosperity we downa thole, Adversity is on the whole Repugnant to our natures. The first sae feeds inherent pride, 'V^''e clean miskcn oursel' ; The last's a dark, black-rolling tide, Whose origin is hell. Kind Heaven has given A life devoid of neither, But mix'd them, and fix'd thenj. In human life together. 'i'hcn why should creatures such as we Presume to fret at Heaven's decree, Because on poortith's brink ; Sure, whether we are great and rich. Or mean and poor, it mak's na much. This life is but a blink. Swift are our days, as shuttles fly. Impatient of control. Till some auld sexton byand-by Maun hide us in a hole. Earth ''s treasures, life's pleasures, Will then avail us little ; Scots rhyme then, though ]irime then, AVill no be worth a spittle. Wliiit signifies the world's applause, Its giddy shouts and loud huzzas ? AVhat though the vulgar throng. And round our temples twine the bays ]*'oi' yonth-corrupting fulsome lays. If virtue calls them wioug ? WILLI AxM SIMPSON. V* One hour of conBcious innocenco Yields much more real bliss, Tli»n years of pleasure at expenso Of inward happiness. N'ow therefore, Tom, whoreforr Should bards devote their skill. Inditing and writing Rhymes bordering on ill. Hence TU abjure the fabled Nine, And giaciously His aid divine I humbly will implore, Who taught old David, Israel's king. In heavenly strains to play and sing. Jehovah to adore ; Wlio brought him up from tending slieep. His early occupation. And set him on his throne to keep Watch o'er his elect nation. Attend me, defend me. Thou Being all divine ; Inspire me, and fire me, With sentiments sublime."" Tom Walker felt the allusion to his optics somewhat keenly ; and, attributing the introduction of a subject so unpalatable to the instigation of a third party, he replied in the following quatrain:— " For a' the Kirkland's e'er was bom. Had but my case been yours, I wadna planted sic a thorn Amang sic bonnie flowers." * In the recent edition of the works of Burns, by the Messrs Chambers, it is stated that Simpson was the author of " a humor- ous elegy on the death of Paul I." The following are the verses alluded to : — •' THE EMPEROR PAUL'S FLIGHT TO PANDEMONIUM. The Emperor Paul was a plague to us all, And excited the wrath of our navy ; But the moment he found we had weather'd tlie Sound, For shelter fled down to Sir Davie, auld Davie ; Plump downward to dainty auld Davie. + * Some farther notice of Tom Walker and his productions occurs in * snbipquent nUotrh. (• In alliidon to f>nrir,''s-locl:^r — :> tea tciui lor di GAVIN TURNBULL. rein in endless surmisings. Certain it is, that in this garret, steeped as he was to the very teeth in adversity, Turnl)ul] had the philosophy to compose a great portion of his early poetry ; and it is astonishing with what vivacity of spirit he writes the following ode to David Sillar, then in circumstances not much more affluent than his own : — " By this yc'll figure to yoursel', Dear lad, the method how I dwell, And pass the lonely time : In a wee housie, wai-m and snug, I sit beside the chimla lug, And spin awa' my rhyme. Sometimes the weary ploy I curse, That fortune to my share Has thrown, which ever hauds my purse ^ Sae toom, and back sae bare : Then grumbling and rumbling I throw awa' my pen For ever mair, never To write for tasteless men. The greatest dults that ever wrote, ' Have often noblje patrons got. Their nonsense to protect ; "Whilst chiels of maist ingine and skill T^nnoticed, unrewarded still. Meet nought but cauld neglect. O Paean's* son ! how I repine At your unhappy lot ; AVhile empty naethings glare and shine, Your mem'ries are forgot. Yet time will sublime still A' true poetic lays ; And glorious, victorious, Bestow the wccl-earn'd bays. Tlicn heed na, Davie, though wc be A race exposed to misery, A' mankind hae their shair ; Yet wi' the few whasc hearts are fired Wi' love o' sang, by Him inspired. What mortals can compare : How sweet, when in the feeling heart, Alternate passions glow, * Apollo. GAVIN TURNBULL. ^5 Tbe mixed ideas to impart, To paint our joy and woe : Desire doth conspire Wi' love to form the sang, AVhile pleasing and easing The numbers glide alang. The sweets o' nature a' are ours, The verdant fields, the blooming flowers, The woodland and the plain : To us the bonny months of spring Delights and soft sensations bring, The vulgar ne'er attain. How sweet, when night is calm and still. Beneath pale Phoibe's ray, Along the margin of a rill. To wind our lonely way : Still musing, and choosing. Ideas fit to move Some charmer, and warm her AVith all the flames of love." This, both in versification and sentiment, is an imitation of Burns'" " First Epistle to Davie," and we should think not greatly inferior in merit. It is curious, as illustrative of that reckless and spuri- ous independence of spirit which could contemplate with indiffer- ence the approach of old age and poverty, with their attendant evils, and still exclaim with Bums — " The last o't — the warst o't — Is only but to beg." " Warm and snug," applied to a garret-room, without a bed, without a table, without a chair, or indeed any of the conveni- ences of life, is a proof how easy it is for poesy to invest even the most repulsive locality with charms. Though with only a stone for his seat, Turnbull could sav — " In a wee housie, warm and snug, I sit beside the chimla lug And spin awa' my rhyme." But we shall not longer dwell on the gloomy side of the picture. Much of poor TurnbulFs irregularity and consequent indigence may be attributed to the adverse circumstances of his early life, familiarized as he was to habits of intemperance, which lie ought 96 GAVIN TURNBULL. to have been taught to avoid. The drudgery of the loom, too, was ill-suited to one of his temperament and acquirements ; for, however limited his academical studies may have been, it is evi- dent he possessed a cultivated mind ; and his writings display not only accuracy in composition, but a pretty extensive acquaintance with both ancient and modern literature. After all, tlie social indulgences with which he is charged ought probably to be attri- buted less to a fondness for the pleasures of the bowl, than to the circumscribed sphere of life in which he was placed, and the mor- bid consciousness of ability to perform a more conspicuous part in the drama of life. Little as there is known of his later his- tory, it is sufficient to warrant the belief that his intemperance was not inveterate ; and that, amidst his early prodigality, he must have devoted no inconsiderable portion of time to the ac- quisition of knowledge. Considering his humble origin, the want of access to books, and the little leisure he could devote to their perusal in his boyish days, his literary attainments were such as to reflect the highest degree of credit. At what period Turnbull left Kilmarnock is uncertain ; but it is known that both he and the rest of his father's family went from thence to Glasgow. What mode of life he followed there, we have not been informed. All we know is, that his poetical works Avere published in that city in 1788, by David Niven, printer, under the title of " Poetical Essays, by Gavin Turnbull." Prefaces are not always to be relied on for accuracy of statement ; but, if Turnbull is to be believed, it appears that his circum- stances and prospects were at some period or other much higher than our reminiscences give him credit for. He says — " The author of the following Essays, deprived early in life, by unfore- seen misfortunes, of the means of pursuing that liberal plan of education he once had a prospect of, has not the vanity to ima- gine they have either that degree of novelty of invention, or cor- rectness of versification, which will stand the test of rigid criti- cism ;" * * * and he farther adds, that " some unfavour- able circumstances in his situation, by hastening the publication, has prevented them from receiving that degree of correction they would otherwise have obtained."" Wliat was the nature of these GAVIN TURNBULL. 97 " unfavourable circumstances," we are not aware. TurnbulFs volume consists of two hundred and twenty-four pages, and is divided into five departments — Elegies, Pastorals, Odes, Poetical Essays i?i the Scottish Dialect, and Songs. He appears to have been an admirer of the manner of Shenstone, whose works were at the time highly popular. The verses entitled " Myra," are a pretty fair specimen of his success in approaching the style of that author : — " The forests are mantled in green, j The hawthorn in blossom looks gay, i The primrose and daisy are seen. And birds carol sweet on the spray. 'Tis now the gay season of love, | Soft raptures inspire every heart ; Come, Myra, retire to the grove, While I my fond passion impart. You say, that you doubt if I love ; From whence can such fancies arise ? If words are too languid to prove, 'Tis seen in the glance of mine eyes. Believe me, thou charmer divine. Those valleys can witness my pain ; The streams join their murmurs with mine. And the echoes have learn 'd to complain. ] I'm young and too simple to lie, To call thee a goddess or queen ; My flame is reveal'd in that sigh. My blushes explain what I mean. My passion's so mild and sincere, ' . And chaste as the innocent dove ; I call thee not false nor severe, 'Tis sure the completest of love. I walk by the whispering grove, Where the zephyrs sound soft thro' the spray ; I mourn with the amorous dove, i And join the sweet nightingale's lay. 1 Those Bounds are so mournfully sweet, ' That mirth seems unpleasant to me ; I'd leave the fond thought with regret , Of indulging a passion for thee. I lie by the verge of the stream, Whose muiniurs oft lull nie to rest ; N ' 98 GAVIN TURNBULL. I couvt the kiiitl flattering dream, To lay me supine on tliy breast ; 1 wake, and I fold thee in vain, The shade is too snhtle to keep ; I foolishly dote on my pain, And iind it a ))leasure to weep. 'i'lie pleasures that wait on the spring, The flowers, and the fair-budding tree, 'J'he joys that the summer can bring, Arc tasteless when absent from thee : The warblers that sing from the grove. In vain do tlieir melody flow ; Hut wlicn with tlie maid that I love, 'Tis enchantment wherever I go. I covet not jewels and gold ; The rich 1 uneiivied can sec ; No treasure on earth I behold, No jewel so precious as thee : With me to my cottage retire, UnhurtlienM with treasure and wealth ; Lot love all our ])loasures inspire, And live in contentment and health." Among the pieces of greater length in the volume, is one en- titled " The Bard," and " inscribed to Mr R[obert] B[urns]." It is in the Spenserian stanza, and, with due allowance for an affected antiquity in the use of obsolete words, which mar the smoothness of the versification to a modern ear, the poem displays considerable merit. It is, as a whole, too long for our pages ; but we willingly quote a few stanzas : — " O thou, whom from the pleasant hanks of Ayr Thy merit summonM to Edina's walls ; Whose songs delight her sons and daughters fair. And loudly echo through their s])lendid halls. On thee a simple Poet humbly calls — A simple Poet, who, obscuied the while, The fear of scornful critic sore appals ; On whom, if Coila's Bard vouchsafe to smile. His name shall spread abroad thro' Albion's sea-girt isle. There whilom ligd, ypent in garret high, A tuneful Bard, wlio well could touch the lyre. Who often sung so soot and witchingly. As made tlie crowds, in silent gaze, admire ; GAVIN TURNBULL. 99 Ymolten with the wild seraphic fire Which his sweet sonnets eathly could impart, They list'uing stood, ne never did they tire, So steal'd his soft persuasion on the heart. So smooth his numbers flowVl, all unrestrained by art. Sometimes, as fancy prompt him, he would sing The charms of nature at the morning's dawn. Or paint the beauties of the blooming spring, The shady forest, and the flow'ry lawn, The whiten'd thorn and roses newly blawn, Or mazy rills, that wildly devious flow. Or pensive shepherd, from the crowd withdrawn. Sore pined with luckless love and mochel wo, Design'd from tow'ring cliff his wretched self to throw." Changing the subject to Winter " shrouded in her mantle hoar," he exckiinis — " Now shut the pond'rous gate, and rouse the tire, Produce the flask, and fill the massy bowl ; To gloomy haunt let wrinkled care retire. Let joy abound possessing evVy soul, Let Boreas bluster, and the tempest howl : 'Tis ours to snatch the pleasures as they fly. Now up the lofty Diapason rowl, 'Tis music gives the purest extacy, And lifts the soul from earth exalted to the sky. See where the miser, brooding o'er his gear. Sits sad and sullen, in his dreary cell ; No glowing fire, the sable walls to cheer. With him pale want and timid fancy dwell. O ! tell us true, ye wretched miscreants tell, AVhy all this caution to secure your gold ? AVill it appease the ruthless King of Hell, Or help to make the burning climate cold ? Ah ! vain your hope, for there no joy is bought or told. Let the dull cynic preach his musty rules. No son of Bacchus will attend las lore: Let him hold forth to children and to fools, And turn, and turn, his lifeless lectures o'er. And cite old Plato and ilk sage of yore. And beat his breast, and grin and look awry, Down with the pedant, let us sing and roar : Behold the festive moments dancing by, 'Tis ours lu joy to live, and catcli them as they lly." 100 GAVIN TURNBULL. These extracts, if not marked by much originality of thought, display considerable force and fluency of expression. " Irvine Water" is another piece of some length, and not destitute of merit. We give it a place chiefly on account of its description of local scenery : — " Roused at the prospect of the blooming spring, Again my youthful Muse attempts to sing : Of woods and plains, the beauties to rehearse. Or make some favVite stream adorn my verse. Hail, Irvine, thou whose flow'ry banks so gay. And vocal groves first heard my rural lay ; Fain ■would the muse this early tribute bring. And try the beauties of thy course to sing : Ye Naiades pour your liquid stores along. And sweetly murmur to the rural song. In vain we search for Simois' silver source. Where Ilium's ruins choke its wnding course. No more Scammander rages o'er the plains. Yet rolls his waves in Homer's matchless strains. O, did my Muse, with equal ardour glow. As long thy waves should in my numbers flow ! Now dawns the day, the dusky shadows fly. The sun in glory mounts the azure sky. The distant landscape opens to the view, The misty mountains, wet with early dew. Round pearly drops liang pendant on the spray, The flow'rs expand their foliage to the day ; On ev'ry verdant bush and blooming thorn, The plumy warblers hail the rosy morn. What joy to wander undisturb'd with care. To breath the fragrance of the morning air. Where Irvine's streams glide gently through the dale. And gather health from ev'ry rising gale ; To stray the woods and dewy lawns among. Led by the Muse to meditate the song; Or curious, wand'ring to an airy height. Indulge my fancy with the varied sight ? From where yon mountain's tufted tops arise, To where the sun rolls down the westren skies ; Where, 'midst a spacious frith, black Arran shrouds Its rocky top, among surrounding clouds ; A noble prospect, stretch 'd before the eye. May with Hesperia or .Arcadia vie. GAVIN TURNBULL. 101 Here wnding dales and lengthen'd plains extend, There, from the vales, the cloud-capt hills ascend : Here waving forests, mantled all in green. With fertile fields and flow'ry lawns between ; There winding streams the verdant meads adorn, And, dimpling smooth, reflect the rays of mom. Along the margin rural seats appear, And gardens blooming with the vernal year. What though the wond'ring traveller still admires Italia's lofty domes and lengthen'd spires. Her gilded prospects, stretch 'd in bright array, Poetic scenes with flow'rs and verdure gay ; Or let Arabia boast her spicy fields; More precious blessings Caledonia yields ; Though less exuberant our northren soil, Yet peace and plenty crown the lab'rer's toil : Here all that's charming, all that's sweet is found, And Liberty makes nature smile around. Where first the stream his sacred source forsakes. And through the wilds his mazy winding takes ; Where water from the pendant rock distils, And foster'd by the gently purling rills. Where circling ivy mantling bow'rs display, The lonely owl forsakes the cheerful day. Here, like some ruffian from the world exiled, The rav'nous hawk reigns tyrant of the wild ; The lonely shepherd, on the banks reclin'd, Nurses fantastic notions in his mind. The turtle wails upon the aged trees. The water sounding to the whisp'ring breeze ; Repeating caves resound the water's fall. And melancholy munnurs answer all. As by degrees the Naiades swell the tide, Th' expanding landscape opens fair and wide ; There stately towns and villages arise, And lofty piles, whose turrets reach the skies. Here many an antient tow'r and fortress stands. The sad memorials of contending lands. When kindred nations fiercely strove in arms, And fill'd the hostile land with dire alarms : Then heap'd with slaughter ev'ry field appear'd, And war through all the land his horrid aspect rear'd. Where heaps of carnage strew'd the ensanguined plain. The skilful farmer rears the yellow grain : 02 GAVIN TURNBULL. The lazy shepherd lies upon the ground, Auiid tir extended trench and verdant mound, While rough industry plies his useful hand, And fills with plenty all the peaceful hand. Along the level holms, with verdure gay, The patient angler slowly bends his way, With taper rod and well-dissembled hook. To tempt the tliouglitleas tenants of the brook. .. W'here in the dimpling pool the shepherd spies, Th' inverted landscape and the liquid skies, The youths with naked arms the waves divide, And smoothly cleave, along the yielding tide. But let each forward heedless youth beware. Nor the sad fate of young Menalcas share, Who, urged by fervent heat, his limbs to cool. Impatient plunged amid the sullen pool : Eager he strives, his efforts all are vain. Him fate denies the distant shore to gain ; The whirling eddies curl above his head, The lovely youth is numbcr'd with the dead. Much was the grief his frantic mother bore, Ilis aged father much, his sweetheart more ; Whom love with chains of strong affection bound. And soon the nuptial tie their bliss had crown'd ; But fates malignant 'gainst their joy conspired, And, all at once, their pleasing hopes retired. Now wouldst thou sing what noble seats ai)pear, What antient heroes form'd their dwellings here ! The tow'rs of Loudon* first salute the eye With lofty walls, and tun-ets rear'd on liigh ; Gay to the view, upon a rising ground. With pendant woods and shady bow'rs .around. All hail, ye solemn thought-inspiring groves ! Where rapt entranced, sweet contemplation roves. Where charming fancy leads her airy train. Who touch the Muses' lyre, or breathe th' enamour'd strain ! For there the lover, led by Cynthia's ray. Along the river's margin winds his way ; Or pensive, seated 'neath the spreading boughs. Breathes, to the lonely woods, his am'rous vows ; * Seat of the Dowager- JIarchioncss of Hastings, daughter of James-Mure Camp- bell, fifth Earl of Loudoun, who ilied in 1780. GAVIN TURNBULL. 103 While fairies form their nightly cavalcades, And hold gay revels in the moonlight shades, Aerial minstrels swell the soothing strain, And heav'nly airs enchant the list'ning swain. See where the Dean* her ruin'd fabric rears, A mournful scene her naked wall appears •, The clasping ivy shades her tottering tow'rs, Where night-owls form their melancholy bow're. Prone from the top, huge ruin'd fragments fall, The howling wind sounds dreary in the hall. No more the voice of mirth is heard to sound, But melancholy silence reigns around. Where late an antiquated pile appeared In days of yore, by Gothic artists rear'd Upon the margin of the rolling tide, Stands Caprington,+ of Coila's tow'rs the pride, Which with superior majesty appears The tedious labour of revolving years ; Its ample walls bespeak its master's mind Industry's friend, benevolent and kind. What verse, O Fairly,^ can thy halls dopaint And stately portico of vast extent, Design'd with taste, and execute with cost, Nor can the neighb'ring seats such beauty boast. High on a mound Dundonald's ruin stands,§ And of the frith a prospect wide commands, * Dean Castle, foi-merly the residence of the Boyd family, is situated about half a mile north-east of Kilmarnock, at the junction of two small streams which form Kil- marnock Water. The last of the earls who resided here was beheaded in London, along vith Lord Balmerino, in August 1746, for his exertions in the cause of Prince Charles Stuart. " Kilmaraock," says Smollett, " was a nobleman of fine personal accomplish- ments ; he had been educated in Revolution principles, and engaged in the Rebellion, partly from the desperate situation of his fortune, and partly from resentment to the Government, on his being deprived of a pension whicli he had for some time enjoj-ed." The present Earl of Errol is his direct descendent in the male line ; and, but for the attainder, would be Earl of Kilmarnock. He is by an English peerage Lord Kilmarnock. t The seat of John Smith Cuninghame, Esq. John Smith, Esq. W.S. married the heiress of Caprington, and took the sirname of Cuninghame of Caprington. J The rei-idence of Sir John Cuninghame Fairlie, Bart. § The ancient residence of the Cochranes of Dundonald. The old tower and the mound on which it stands, is all that now remains of the property in the luinds of tlie family. \ t 1^4. GAVIN TURNBULL. • j AVhere Arran rears aloft its sable brow, Aud frowns terrific on the waves below. ; Ailsey's round sterile rock the prospect ends, I Whose airy peak among the clouds ascends. Fair Irvine, on the sandy margin placed, ' Appears with lofty spires and turrets graced ; The swelling sui'gcs beat against the shore, I And 'mongst the rocky isles tempestuous roar ; I The stately vessels, on the foaming tide, ] Loaded with wealth, along the billows ride ; I see the crowded masts and swelling sails, ] The waving streamers flying in the gales, ' And gaze wth wonder on the splendid show Of lofty towns and busy crowds below. Hold, hold, my Muse ! at once suspend thy ilight, And look enaraour'd from this airy height, , AVhere stands secure, upon the river's side, I A rural dwelling destitute of pride ; ' No costly ornaments the structure grace, j But simple nature beautifies the place : Here Ruricola dwells, of swains the best. Of feelings and a geu'rous mind possess'd ; Improved by science, from pedantry free, Skill'd in the rules of deep philosophy : Of plants the aromatic virtue knows, And on his garden every care bestows ; There trims his flow'rs, or prunes the encumber'd trees, Or forms a proper station for his bees ; Curious their balmy labours to survey, Delightful task to pass the shining hours away. O, gentle swain ! how happy could I spend This fleeting life with such a gen'rous friend ! AVell pleased, my tuneful labours to pursue, Improved by charming solitude and you. That man how bless'd, who prudently retires. Nor to be great and arrogant aspires ; Content alone with what his fortune gives. To strife unknown, he independent lives. "What though no cringing flatt'rers at his gate Stand trembling, and at awful distance wait ; Though no obsequious minions call him Lord, Nor cates luxurious heap his humble board, Nor costly ornaments his dwelling hold. Nor chests encumber'd with imprison 'd gold — GAVIN TURNBULL. lO") Yet liis tlic life from expectation free, CoiToding care and vain anxiety : Peace stands a sentinel to guard his door, And keep at distance eacli malignant pow'r ; Time flies for him, oh softest silken wings, And each revolving day contentment brings : AVith joy he breathes the balmy gales of morn. And sees tlie night a welcome guest return : 'Tis his to wander o'er the fertile fields, And taste what nature imcorrupted yields ; Her laws to study and her works explore, And on the wings of contemplation soar: Throughout the whole, to trace tlie gradual line Which leads progressive to the source divine. To teach the soul above the earth t' ascend, To weigh his dust and meditate his end. Let others toil assiduously for fame. Contend for honour, and a deathless name : All vain applause, and honour I'd resign ; Give'me a friend, and such a life be mine. Thus, when tlie summer's joys could scarce delight. Or grove or stream my weary steps invite ; I tried the Muse, beneath the shade reclin'd. To ease a pensive melancholy mind. To sooth my fancy with the scenes that please. Rural contentment, and poetic ease." As a specimen of tlie author's composition in the " Scottish dialect," we give the following : — " SALE OF STATIONERY WARK AT BUCHANAN'S HEAD, K * * * * '■■ * * CK. ' To a" the warl be it kend,' That I hy auction do intend Great routh o' goods and gear to vend, A t lowest price ; Sae, pray, good people, all attend If ye be wise. Imprimis, llicn, 1 can content ye, Wi' learned books and Bibles plenty, fJilt on the backs, and bound right dainty, In good ralf-ahcep : Glow'r at them weel, and Ise indent ye Sliall buy them chea]i. 106 GAVIN TURNBULL. The rev'rend brethren o' the band i\[ay hue whatever they demand, And, they wha like, I winna stand, To sell or nift'er ; Bring goods or siller i' ye're hand, We winna differ. The wit and scholar here may find, A' that can please a learned mind ; As Robin Hood, and Captain Hind, And other sparks ; But, what leaves a' the rest behind. My father's warks.* The Book of Knowledge, that can tell A' things in heav'n, in earth, and hell» W'i' hocus pociis, magic spell. For greedy rooks ; To ragged chapmen, too, I sell Cheap question books. I've wax and wafers, ink, and quills. An' best o' paper frae the mills. For bundles, or bills For book or letter, There's nane sae good — cheap, cheap it sells For ready catter. But what's of a' the rarest show. My pictures, ranged in seemly row : Here twelve good rules, which we should know ; There Captain Bluff ; Here Peeping Tom, and down below Stands Jamie Duft".+ * Hymns and Spiritual Songs. + Jamie, or Bailie Duff, was a well-known character in Edinburgh. The Print alluded to must have been one of the early productions of Jolin Kay, the caricaturist, whose works we lately published, in two vols. 4to, accompanied with biograpliical de- scriptions. From this work we quote the following sketch of Bailie Duff : — " Jamie Duff', the third figure in the print, was long conspicuous upon the streets of Edinburgh as a person of weak intellects, and of many gi'otesque peculiarities. He was the cliild of a poor widow who dwelt in the Cowgate, and was chiefly indebted for subsistence to the charity of those who were amused by his odd but harmless manners. Tliis poor creature had a passion for attending funerals ; and no solemnity of that kind could take place in the city without being graced by his presence. He usually took his j>lace in front of the saulies or ushers, or, if they were wanting, at the head of the or- dinary company ; thus forming a kind of practical burlesque upon the whole ceremony, GAVIN TURNBULL. 107 I've china-ware, baith gilt and plain, Of which the ladies are right fain ; And to diink punch, or yet champaign, Weel polish'd glasses ; And something else, I'll no explain. For honnie lasses. the toleration of which it is now difficult to account for. To Jamie liimself, it must be allowed, it was as serious a matter "as to any of the parties more immediately con- cerned. He was most scrupulous both as to costume and countenance, never appearing without crape, cravat, and weepers, and a look of downcast woe in the highest degree edifpng. It is true the weepers were but of paper, and the cravat, as well as the gene- ral attire, in no very fair condition. He had all the meri't, nevertheless, of good inten- tion, which he displayed more particularly on the occurrence of funerals of unusual dignity, by going previously to a most respectable hatter, and getting his hat newly tinc- tured %rith the dye of sorrow, and the crape aiTanged so as to hang a little lower do^^•n his back. " By keeping a shai-p look-out after prospective funerals, Jamie succeeded in securing nearly all the enjoyment which the mortality of the city was capable of affording. It nevertheless chanced that one of some consequence escaped his vigilance. He was standing at the well di-awing water, when, lo ! a funeral procession, and a very stately one, appeared. What was to be done ? He was wholly unprepared : he had neither crape nor weepers, and there was now no time to assume them ; and moreover, and woi'se than all this, he was encumbered mth a pair of " stoups .'"" It was a trjing case ; but Jamie's enthusiasm in the good cause overcame all difficulties. He stepped out, took his usual place in advance of the companj', stoups and all, and, with one of these grace- ful appendages in each hand, moved on as chief usher of the procession. The funeral party did not proceed in the direction of any of the usual places of interment. It took quite a conti'ary dii'ection. It left the town : this was odd ! It held on its way : odder still ! Mile after mile passed away, and still there was no appearance of a consummation. On and on the procession went, but Jamie, however surprised he might be at the unu- sual circumstance, manfully kept his post, and witli indefatigable perseverance continued to lead on. In short, the procession never halted till it reached the seaside at Queens- ferry, a distance of about nine miles, where the part}' composing it embarked, coffin and all, leaving the poor fool on the shore, gazing after them with a most ludicrous stare of disappointment and amazement. Such a thing had never occurred to him before in the ^vhole course of his experience. " Jamie's attendance at funerals, however, though unquestionably proceeding from a pure and disinterested passion for sucli ceremonies, was also a source of considerable emolument to him, as his spontaneous services were as regularly paid for as those of the hired officials ; a doucem' of a shilling, or half-a-crown, being generally given on such occasions. " We come now to view the subject of our memoir as a civic dignitary — as Bailie DufT — a title which was given him by his contemporaries, and which posterity lias re- cognised. The history of liis elevation is short and simple. Jamie was smitten MTth the ambition of becoming a magistrate ; and at once, to realize his own notions on the subject, and to establish his rhiims to the envied dit;nity in the eyes of others, he ]iro- 108 r.AVlN TURN BULL. I've heucks to shear the harvest corn •, Good cudgels, miide of varnisird thorn ; Have spluchans, ance by sea-dogs worn, And wylie foxes ; Braw sneeshing-mills, o' brass and horn ; And barber's boxes. T hae pomatum for the hair ; Good plated buckles, round and square : I hae blaek-ball, the choicest ware E'er gaed on leather I've hoops and rings, and ribbons rare. And a' thegither. The chicl that's hardly worth a groat. May be provided \vi' a coat At second hand, and no ae jot The waur o' wear ; Auld breeks and waistcoats may be got. And bonnets here. cured and wore a brass medal and chain, in imitation of the gold insignia worn by the city magistrates, and completed his equipment by mounting a wig and cocked hat. .Tamie now became a veritable bailie ; and Ids cl.aims to the liigh honour — it gives us ])leasure to record the fact — were clieeifuUy acknowledged. " At one period of the Bailie's magisterial career, however, his pretensions certainly were disputed by one individual ; and by whom does the reader imagine ? Why, by a genuine dignitaiT of con'esponding rank — a member of the Town-Council ! This person was dreadfully shocked at this profanation of things sacred, and he ordered his brother magistrate. Duff, to be deprived of bis insignia, wliich was accordingly done. City politics running high at this time, this odd, and it may be added absurd, exercise of power, was unmercifully satirized by the local poets and jjainters of the day. " It may not be without interest to know that this poor innocent manifested much filial affection. To his mother he was ever Idnd and attentive, and so anxious for her comfort, that he would consume none of the edibles he collected, till he had carried them home, and allowed lier an opportunity of partaking of them. So rigid was he in his adherence to this laudable rule, tluit he made no distinction between solids and fluids, but insisted on having all deposited in his pocket. " The Bailie, at one period, conceived a gi-eat aversion to silver money, from a fear of being enlisted ; and in order to make sure of esca])ing this danger, having no thirst whatever for military glory, he steadily refused all silver coin ; when liis mother, dis- covering that his excessive caution in this matter had a serious eft'ect on their casual in- come, got his nephew, a boy, to acconi])any him in the character of receiver-general and purse-bearer ; and by the institution of this officer, the difficulty was got over, and the Bailie relieved from all apprehension of enlistment. " He was tall .and robust, with a shrinking, shambling gait, and usually wore his stockings hanging loose about his heels. — He never could speak distinctly, though it was remarked that, when imitated, he co\ild make a shift to swear. He died in 1788," GAVIN TURNBULL. 109 I've whips, and spurs, and bits for bridles ; Clear plated stirrup-irons for saddles ; Therm strings for spinning-'nheels and fiddles, And maybe soon I'll hae good pots, and pans", and ladles, Or a' be done." Who the " man of all wares," thus celebrated by the Poet, was, we have not ascertained, nor can our friends in Kilmarnock remember any house or shop having the sign of " BuchanaTi''s Head." There is no doubt, however, that the poem is descrip- tive of some establishment well known at the time. Forty or fifty years ago, the town, now a flourishing one, was comparatively in its infancy, and business was carried on in a very primitive manner. The present race of shopkeepers would look back with ineffable disdain on the small obscure premises occupied by their fathers and grandfathers, in whose economy such a thing as a pro- per division of merchandise was almost totally unregarded. With the foregoing we close the volume of Gavin Turnbull, satisfied though Burns, as asserted by Chambers, may liave over- praised his talents, that his writings are such as entitle him to a niche in the poetical temple of his native county. Campbell, author of a " History of Poetry in Scotland," published in 1798, remarks that " the ' Poetical Essays' of Mr Turnbull are such as do him the highest credit. 1 am hopeful he will go on ; for, in truth, the specimen already before the public gives, so far as I understand, uncommon satisfaction. It was the peculiar felicity of Burns, on his first entrance on the literary stage, to be patronized and supported, even to a degree rarely the lot of the most con- summate talents. It became for a time the rage, to use a fashion- able phrase, to talk of him, recite his pieces, and boast of having spent an evening in company with the Ayrshire Bard. No won- der, then, if the Contemporaries of Burns were neglected by those who are looked up to as the umpires of literary reputation. But one consolation remains ; the ingenious author escaped the most poignant mortification usually attendant on talent unaccom- jtanied by prudence, that is, the supercilious sneer, indicative of altered opinion, and its humiliating consequences, cold indiffer- ence. l)i GEORGE CAMPBELL. ' A WINTER EVENING. Scene — A Farm-House in tlie Country. By Arran point uow sunk tlic orb of light, And fast comes on the long und dreary niijht. Homo to the house the cattle take their way, And leave tlie field with the departing day ; To shun the nightly cold, by instinct led. They gather round, and seek their wonted slied ; Nor seek in vain ! the maids extend thiMr care ; This is your province, O ye simple Fair ! Close to their stalls the hungry cattle hind. Heap the provision ; to your cliarge be kind ; Feel their distress ; alleviate their woe ; And thus a spirit truly generous show. Ev'n queens, like you, have led the bleating train. Or fed the lowing herd upon the plain ; At night their charge conducted from the field, And press'd the copious udder in the hield ; The grateful tribute in the pail received. And in the simple ways of nature lived. Nor do the clowns less of the labour share ; These to the hardy horse extend their care ; One from the stable to the river leads And satisfies with drink the thirsty steeds ; Those in the house an equal care display. The manger fill with corn, the crib with hay. The master loves to see his cattle good ; Hard they must woik, but are not spared of food ; In this he strives to be above the rest. And thinks he's victor when his horse looks best. ^f * * * The cattle now are fodder d — all is quiet ; Dinner's set down ;" they for the master wait ; He comes, and sees them round the table closed, Down with them sits, and lifts his hand composed — Adores the goodness of the God of heaven, And seeks His blessing on the mercy given ; Thanks Him, witli grateful mind, for what is past, And humbly pleads such favours still may last. And now the meal begun, they soon assuage, With wholesome food, the force of hunger's rage. * It is the custom in the country, in the winter season, not to take dinner till the twilight. GEORGE CAMPBELL. 129 Here kail, a dish so much and justly prized, Too good for those by whom they are despised. Nor want they beif, from their own hills supplied, By England boasted, and by France envied ; Cakes and potatoes next, upon the board Are heap'd in plenty, and good cheer afford. Such food let England's well-fed sons deride. But long may Scotia still esteem 't her pride : Her daughters this way fed are not less fair. Her gallant sons an equal courage share : And at the siege, or in the bloody field. As bold attack, and are as slow to yield ; With souls intrepid, as great dangers dare. And equal bear the hardships of a war. He.aven gi-ant in plenty they such victuals share. And be contented with their homely fitre ! The family satiate and the dinner closed, Again the master sees them all composed ; His voice he raises, and he thanks his God For all the favours upon them bestow'd — Prays that His kindness ever may abide : That He, through life, may always be their guide : Owns that by sin they're utterly undone. And hopes He'll save them only tlinuigh his Son. Soon is the table drawn, and all, with care. To what's their labour for the night repair ; To yoke the wheel one of the maids applies. And to prepare tlie wool anotlier flies ; Thus they alternate work, and each relieve. Lighten the labour, and the time deceive : Nor drop tlie curds, nor quit the buzzing ichcel. Till night see numerous brotches heap the creel. 'J'liink not this theme below the Muse's praise. While scenes like these Britannia's glory raise. O, were the Muse but equal to the theme ! O, could her song but give such scenes to fame ! From hence the yarn to form her cloth is brought. So much admired and with such keenness sought ; Prom hence her carpets, that with Persia vie. By far more lasting, and as rich in dye ; From hence tliose coverings, which from cold secure Alike the splendid rich and luimble poor; From hence materials all that cldtli to rear Wliich kings and princes may be proud to wear. loO CJEORGE CAMPBELL. 'riie thrifty mistress will not idle stand, But with the distaff occupies her hand ; Hor eldest diuighter at the needle sits, And by her side the hfrd his stocking knits. All liands at labonr, none their task refuse ; Tlie day-toird ploughman sweats and laeiids his shoes : Should these be good, yet no less is his cure To make the brotchcs, or the flails rejiair : The power of Ind'lence for a while is gone. And here the knight Industry reigns alone. Above the rest the good man sits and views Their various labours, tells the public news ; How all the Dutch are in a wild uproar, And Prussia's far-famed monarch is no more : Then speaks of fields o'erflow'd and deluged towns ; Of mighty earthquakes, and of burnt balloons; Of foreign treaties, and domestic broils ; Of Placemen's power and Opposition's wiles : Applauds their actions or their conduct blames. Free as he thinks, nor fears their mighty names ; Till all admire and judge their master fit To rule tlie nation, and as wise as PITT. The country news next every tongue employs, The faults of maidens and the tricks of boys. Is it from love of scandal or fi'om spite, That others' failings give so much delight ? Or do they tliink that they will raise their fame To what degree they can their neighbours blame / And so more keen to have the faults made known In others' conduct, than to mend their own '■' If aught be true, the rest they can devise. And for one fact you'll hear a hundred lies. Each freely speaks, affirming what he sa}s. And the same story's told a thousand ways. Marriage and love atTord a lasting source Of pleasing chat ; 'bout this the}' long discours?. Tlicre's not a luckless maid by lovers scorn'd, Or one, more happy, by her swain adorn'd \Vith rings and ribbons, purchased at the fair, To grace her hands or ornament her hair ; Who present is or soon will be a bride, But must the censure of their tongues abide ; Have all the secrets of their life disclosed. And praised or blamed as judges are dis]ioscd. GEORGE CAMPBELL. l.'il The theme exhausted, no more pleasure brings, Then songs begin, and each alternate sings. On many themes they raise the vocal lay ; But Love and Murder bear the greatest sway. They sing the woes that lovers have endured, Of some too faithful, and of some perjured ; With death at last the mournful garlands close, And serious cautions how to shun such woes ! So long the story, the distress so deep, Tliat ere it ends tlie boys are all asleep ; And these awake have on their minds a gloom AVhich fits them for the fearful things to come. I For no amusement now the song supplies. But tales of ghosts from murder'd lovers rise : These fearful are ; more fearful still succeed ; The face grows pale, the hair stands up with dread. Till nightly fairies seem to dance around, And clowns believe they're on enchanted ground. What pity masters should such things allow E'er to be spoke, far less believed as true ; Such fancied stories fill the tender mind With fearful thoughts, that leave their stamp behind ; Such an impression on the youth they bear, Tliat they, thro' life, are always slaves to fear. The clock strikes nine, and now all work's laid by ; The boys, awaking, for their supper cry : When this is got, then 'tis the master's care, As he began, to close the day with pray'r. Now all the family high their voices raise. And sing, in solemn notes, Jehovah's praise ; He reads a portion of the sacred Word, Then calls, in pray'r, upon the mighty Lord. Let wretches laugh — let them, with jests profane. Mock the devotion of the humble swain ; He knows he senses a God who rules the skies, And can their laughter and their jests despise : This is his glory, it should be their shame To mock the worship of a God supreme. And now the downs to feed thcii- hordes go ; Maids to their charge a like attention show : When these are out, the children arc undrcss'd, And with their parents all retire to rest. The servants soon return, their work is done, And fiii<) tlie master tVoui the kitchen pone. I -'^2 GEORGE CAMPBELL. Short is till- time, Imt it is well emjiloy'd, Nor unrefined tlic ])loa9ures here cnjoy'd : These arc the nioments sacred unto love, And shall not lovers their own time improve ? Yes ! now they meet, and from the rest retire, AVitli soft expressions fan the rising fire. Nor need those blush to own the virtuous flame, Whose love is equal, and their mind the same : This glads the heart, and oft more pleasure brings To humble jieasants than to mighty kings. But ah ! to some Mhom jealous fears ojipress. This time is sad, the source of new distress ! * He sees Lis love gone with another swain. Strives to detect them, but he strives in vain ! Love, still more cunning, jealousy beguiles. Eludes her arts, and disappoints her wiles : 1''rom hence such scenes arise as arc express "d By Ramsav's Muse, and in his numbers best." The following is among tlie best of his lyrical pieces " ODE. ON CHEERFULNESS. Say, ye sages, where to find A calm, content, and cheerful mind ; Or, with all your wit profound, How to keep the bliss when found. AVill heaps of gold or silver bright E"er afford the gay delight ? Or power and wealth together join'd Dispel the sorrows of the mind ? Has Honour, Avhen attaiu'd, the charm, 'Gainst discontent the soul to arm H Or is the man who laurel wears, Still exempt from shedding tears ? Will Science with her many rules. Or all the learning of the schools, FC'er to the utmost satisfy The minds that after knowledge pry y Or can the Muse, with pleasant song, The much-wish'd happiness prolong. Still cause the cheerful numbers flow\ Nor utter one sad strain of wo > GEORGE CAMPBELL. 133 Can noisy mirth or flowing bo«ls. The chief solace of jovial souls, Cause every cloud of sorrow fly, And not be follow'd wth a sigh ? Is Love, tho' happy, always free From anxious thoughts or jealousy ? Or docs it yield a lasting joy — A sweetness that can never cloy ? These, with united voice, reply, ' In us the hliss did never lie : AVe know the flush of transient mirth ; But this you seek grows not on earth. ' From heaven the bliss must be obtain'd — The happy man with guilt unstain'd, AVho treads religion's sacred ways. To him it comes, with him it stays.' " Little more remains to be told, as far as we know, of tlie his- tory of George Campbell. After attending tlie ordinary period at College, he was licensed to preach the gospel, and was fortu- nate enough to be appointed pastor to a congregation of Burghers in Stockbridge, near Dunbar. A friend of ours, who heard him deliver a sermon in the Gallows-knowe* Church, Kilmarnock, to a crowded audience, informs us that he displayed considerable abi- lity and zeal as a preacher. About the time he was licensed for the ministry, he married a young woman, belonging it is said to his native town. With her he repaired to Stockbridge, taking alonsr with him his aged mother, for whom he evinced the most tender affection. Campbell had now the prospect of enjoying a greater degree of comfort than it was his lot in early life to ex- perience ; but earthly felicity is seldom without its alloy, and this he bitterly felt in the death of his mother, which occurred in a very sudden manner. She had been left alone in the house on a Sabbath, when the family were at church, and her clothes acci- dentally coming in contact with the fire, she was so dreadfully burnt that she expired soon after. We are not aware if Camp- bell, after leaving Kilmarnock, devoted any portion of his time to ■* So called, we hclieve, from its having been the place of execution in times prior to the demolition of the feudal system. 134 JAMES FISHER. the composition of poetry. Subjects of dcc])er interest now occu- ])ic(l his attention ; and, wl)ile at Stockbridge, he publislicd a col- lection of sermons, more with the desire, perliaps, (as he hints in liis preface,) of being useful as a teacher of Christianity than distin- guished as an author. Be this as it may, the work, in our opin- ion, from the nature of its contents, and the plain yet interesting manner in wl>ich it is Avritten, is such as would do honour to more celebrated names. It is an 8vo volume of 479 pages, and was printed at Edinburgh, in 1816, by A. Balfour, Merchant Court, and is entitled "• Sermons on Interesting Subjects, by George Campbell, minister of the gospel, Stockbridge, near Dunbar."" In appearance, Campbell was somewhat slender. He died of consumption, at Stockbridge, about the year 1818. JAMES FISHER, THE BLIND MUSICIAN. The attainments of a Blacklock or a Moyes — the one a poet and a scholar, the other a lecturer on chemistry — are both noble examples of the triumph of intellect over circumstances even the most adverse. The obscure name of Fisher ought not perhaps to be mentioned in the same breath with men whose talents attracted no small degree of notice while in life, and whose memories are not likely to be soon forgotten ; yet, when the peculiar disadvantage under which he laboured is taken into con- sideration, we do not see why his humble merit should not also be appreciated. Like Blacklock and Moyes,* he lost his sight * Tlie following account of Dr Moyes, lecturer on clieniistry, is abridged from the Biogi'aphical Sketches accompanying the " f^dinbiirgh Portraits," lately given to the public by the publisher of this work : — \ JAMES FISHER. 135 in infancy, from the efFects of small -pox, with which he was seized when about two years of age. Unlike them, however, he had not the advantage of cultivated intercourse, or the society of the learned, but appears to have been left to grope his way in mental as well as physical darkness. Who his parents w^re, or what their circumstances, we have not been informed. All we know- is, that he was born somewhere on the confines of Galloway, pro- bably about the year 1759 ; and that, having early given his at- tention to music, it became not only a source of amusement to him, but throughout life the chief means of gaining a subsistence. He came to Ochiltree, where he resided for a number of years, about 1788, and was there known and universally respected as a person of unblemished reputation. In the exercise of his profes- sion as a musician, he was of course an indispensable adjunct at " Dr Moves was bom in the year 17.50, at Kirkcaldy, in the couuty of Fife. What station in society his father held, and even what profession he followed, we are not told. It seems jiroliable, however, that he was possessed of some property, because his son was sent to College and enjoyed the benefit of a liberal education. He lost his sight when about tlnee years old, by the small-pox, so that he hardly retained any recollec- tion of lla^^ng ever seen. Yet he stated, that he remembered having once obsei-ved a water-mill in motion, and that, even at that early age, his attention was attracted by the circumstance of the water flowing in one direction, while the wheel turned round in the opposite. This he represented as having staggered his infant mind before he could comprehend it. He was sent to school, but what was his progress there is unknown. From thence he was removed to the University, where, judging from his subsequent acquirements, it is to be presumed he made considerable progress. One thing is certain, that in early life he undoubtedly acquired the fundamental principles of mechanics, music, and the languages ; and displayed a knowledge of geometry, algebra, optics, as- tronomy, chemistry, and, in short, of most of the branches of the Newtonian philosophy. He seems to have delighted in, and to have had a great taste for mechanics, for we are told that at a vei-y early age he made himself acquainted «ith the use of edge-tools so perfectly, that he was able to make little wind-mills, and even constructed a loom with his own hands. " His first attem])t at delivering public lectures commenced at Edinburgh, where he lectured on the theoiy and practice of music ; but not meeting with the encouragement he expected, he relinquished the design. What was the more immediate cause of his resolving to deliver a course of lectures on chemistry, is unknown ; but it was proba- bly the interesting and miscellaneous nature of the subjects treated of — the reputation of Dr Black, professor of that science in Edinburgh, who was then in his zenith — and the unconmion avidity with which his class was attended by the students. As he was the first blind man who propo'sed to lecture on chcinietry, the novelty of the proposal l.">li JAMES FISHER. the " merry-makings*''' of the villagers, and of the peasantry for many miles round the neighbourhood. James liad also acquired a taste for poetry as well as music ; and his leisure hours were frequently devoted to the Muse. Se- veral editions of his poems were published. The volume in our possession, and the only specimen of his works we have seen, was printed at Dumfries in 1792, and is entitled " Poems on Vari- ous Subjects." As the work of a blind, uneducated man, it is no doubt curious ; but its chief attraction is a series of " Familiar Epistles between the author and Thomas Walker," whom we had occasion to notice in our brief memoir of " William Simpson," as the writer of the " trimming letter" to Burns. Until Fisher's volume was kindly handed to us by an lion, gentleman* in Ayr- shire, who takes a great interest in every thing connected with naturally excited curiosity and attention. He left Scotland in 1779, and directed his route towards England, wliere be spent six years in making a tour through it. He delivered lectures not only in the capital, hut almost in every city and considerable town. In 1785, be set sail for America, where he was received with open arms, his fame having gone before him ; even the churches were thrown open to him to lecture in. This tour is understood to have been a very profitable speculation. "' On his return to his native country, be took a house in Edinburgh, where he re- sided for some time ; and, in 1790, crossed the Channel for Ireland, vvhere he remained a few months, highly gratified by the reception he met with. He afterwards took up his residence at Manchester, where he spent the remainder of his life, and died there on the 10th of August 1807, in the fifty-seventh year of liis age, having bequeathed his fortune to his brother, one of the Episcopal clergymen of St Paul's Chapel, then in the Cowgate, Edinburgh, who is alluded to in that wicked poem, the ' Town Eclogue' — Edinburgli, 1804 — written by the Rev. William Aureol Hay Drummond. The Cowgate Cha])el, from the eloquent discourses of that amiable clergyman, the Rev. Mr Alison, was iisually crowded whenever lie ])rcached. In allusion to this. Hay says — ' But things are better, where each Sabbath-day Gay Fashion's coaches crowd the Chajjcl's way ; Save when Old Moses' [Moycs'] dreary, drowsy drone, Makes maidens titter, and Sir William [Forbes] gi'oan.' " Dr Moyes was ratlicr tall in his person, and of a swarthy complexion. His tem- per was cheerful, and liis conversation interesting. He was remarkably abstemious. He had a natural dislike to animal food of every description, and tasted no ardent spirits nor fermented liquors. * The Hon. Roger Rollo, brother of the present Lord Rollo. He is one of the ori- ginal members of the A3Tshire Burns Club ; and, himself a Poet, has seldom failed to pay homage to the Bard by the contribution of an annual ode to his memory. JAMES FISHER. 137 Burns, we were not aware that any of the tailor's poetical effu- sions had ever seen the light, save the epistle already mentioned. They are after all of no poetical value, being mere doggerel ; still they are in some degree interesting as marking the era of Burns, and affording, as they do, no bad index to the feeling entertained towards him by the rhyming fraternity of his own im- mediate neighbourhood. In the familiar epistles of Fisher and Walker, are embodied not merely their own sentiments, regard- ing the irreligious and immoral tendency of the Poet's writings, but of the truly orthodox generally of the period. One or two extracts from the series will be sufficient for our purpose. In his introductory Epistle to Tom, Fisher proceeds in a very laudatory strain : — " In foreign climes I ne'er did stray, The Muses nine I ne'er heard play, Nor yet on Mount Parnassus lay, Nor e'er did goam These waters sweet, dear Tarn, I say, O' Helicon. Therefore I'm no a poet bred, But this ere now ye aiblins dred ; Yet, Thamas, sometimes in my bed, When drousy een Sleep closely steeks, I try that trade A wee fu' keen. * * * Wow man ! ye hae some unco turns ; I heard some things ye sent to Burns, In whilk ye gae him gay ill purns To red, I think ; But what they were, my muse adjourns To tell distinct. Ye' re no like some that I could name, To please the wicked mak' their theme ; But Tarn, what tho' they raise their fame Amang that race ? They in the main are unco lame. When scant o' grace. * » # But Tani, sic warks let iis forhc;ir, fjiir time is nnt to he laiig here, 138 JAMES FISHER. We to anither shore maun steer When this life's doon : O may it be to yon blest sphere, Ayont the moon ! * * ♦ Ochiltree, Feb. 11, 1789." Tom duly returns the compliment in his reply : — " Gif ye were never far a-fieP, But bred aside your mither's wlieel, Wha Mount Parnassus ne'er did speel, Then I'm to blame Gif e'er I kent o' sic a chiel Brought up at hame ! Ye tell me I am nane o' those That lead the van wi' heaven's foes : "Tis true, my pen does not expose My soul in sin ; But oh, alas ! no mortal knows My heart within ! But let me never lead astray Poor mortals on in Satan's way ; Sic hellish houn's that catch the prey For him sae fast. Are waiting on a dreadfu' day, I fear, at last. How pitifu' to see the sight — The sprightly gallant, trim and tight, Whase head's a shining lamp o' light, Wi' bonnie face, An' heart as dark as mirk midnight. For want o' grace ! That heart is hard that never bleeds To see the devil's garden weeds, Wi' learned lumber in their heads, Gaun doun the hill, To get their wages for their deeds In torments still. I shudder at the awfu' thought ! A man to sell his soul for nought ! This warld's gear by sic is bought At countless cost, JAMES FISHER. 139 Since we can ne'er redeem by ought A soul when lost. * * « Saints now-a-days may weep and mourn, . To think how ages yet unboni, Will see religion turn'd to sconi By Robin's books ; An' a' the Bible reft an' torn By clergy fouks. Hill of Ochiltree, March 25, 1789." Proud of Tom's Epistle, Fisher remarks in his next : — " I waited not to look the date, But blythcly I a march did beat, E'en straught awa', Tam, owre the gate Whilk ye ken weel, An' shaw'd them to our neebour Pate,* That conthie chiel. About the time the school did scale, Afore the laddie got his kail. To read them owre he did na fail, An' thought wi' me, That ye cou'd tell a knacky tale In poetrie. Dear Tam, whare gat ye sic a pow ? Did it doun frae Parnassus row .^ An' on your shouthers, i' the how, Light wi' a dad ? Whether or no, may ye lang clow The same, my lad. 1 ken few like ye ony where, Ye're sic a dainty chiel an' rare — AVi' ony bard ye may compare That I do ken ; Let me, whan ye hae time to spare, Ken how ye fen'. Ochiltree, 1789." The second reply of Tom Walker we give nearly at full length : — * Patrick Simpson, of whom some account is given in the memoir of his brother. He was then newly installed into the situation of parish teacher. 140 JAMES FISHER. " I gat your letter, honest Jamie V Wow man ! an unco lift ye gio me ! How Lie a ferly wad yc liac me ? Come, let me doun. Or otherwise ye must get to me An air balloon. I'm hoised a wally wipe indeed. But I'm say dizzy i' the head, I'll no stay lang up here I dread — An', gif I fa', My doun-come, sir, to me will breed, I fear, a claw. What need yo screw me up sac hio. Just as if nane could equal me, A man o' mean an' low degree, Scarce taught to read ; Yet sic a noise as there must be About my head. * » * But lest we shou'd cast out wi' ither, (Wha were as thick an' pack thegithcr As ae auld wife had been our niither) I must tak' care ; Sae wi' you, sir, my poet brither, I'll flyte nae mair. » * * As sure as twa an' three mak' five. This is a drift I mean to drive,* To get some feeding for my hive O' feckless fouks ; But I may tak' the gee belyve, For a' my jokes. I'm aye sae thrang, an' scant o' cash. An' that Will Who-ca't, lazy hash, Took up some drunt, an' wad na fash To write for me, Whilk did na please that weel my pash — But what cared he. The first time ye gang owre the gate, Gie my kin' compliments to Pate, * He proposed publishing his poems. JAMES FISHER. 141 Wha, when I meet him, soon or late, Aye sport gies me — I scarce e'er saw a fallow yet Sae fou o" glee.* Ochiltree, 1789." Few or rather none of the pieces in Fisher's volume merit notice as literary productions. The only verses at all passable, are those in answer to Maine's celebrated song of Logan Kirk, which, first sung at Vauxhall, had then become deservedly popu- lar : — " Sweet nymph that sat on Logan plains, An' sang, of late, in mournfu' strains, There's news in town your heart will raise. An' mak' you blythe on Logan braes. Auld Kath'rine's come to peacefu' terms, An' Britain's laying down her arms ; An' your brave lad has changed his claes, An's comin' down to Logan braes : Resolved hereafter to abide Wi' you at hame, by Logan side. To herd the sheep, an' gather slaes. An' daut his dear on Logan braes. Sae now be blythe, ye'll come nae mair Alane, frae either kirk or fair ; But wi' your lad, in lo'esome gays, Will pass the time on Logan braes. " Besides his poetical attempts, Fisher published two other volumes in prose; one of which was entitled, " Meditations on a Spring Day," the other, " Meditations on a Winter Day." These works we have not seen, and consequently can say nothing of their merits. The author removed from Ochiltree about 180.9. He proceeded from thence to the borders of England. It is not known whether he is dead or alive ; but, if still a sojourner on terra Jirma, he must be upwards of eighty years of age. Fisher composed a variety of tunes for the violin. Besides Tom Walker, he also corresponded with Lapraik, with Gavin Dalzell, Old Mr Simpson, though considerably in advance of threcscore-and-ten, is yet a living evidence of the triitli of this remark. 142 ALEXANDER TAIT. Cumnock, and "with Joseph Cochran^ a poet, or poetaster, who flourlslied in Strathaven about the same prolific era. The history of Thomas Walker, the poetical tailob, affords, as far as we know, almost no materials whatever for biography. He resided long in the parish of Ochiltree, maintaining, in the words of Mr Patrick Simpson, " a respectable character for so- briety, honesty, and glee^'' He died many years ago, and was buried at Sorn, of which place he is believed to have been a native. The only work he is understood to have published was a pamphlet, entitled " A Picture of the World." ALEXANDER TAIT, THE TARBOLTON POET. Saunders Tait was another rhyming " knight of the needle," who ought not perhaps to be omitted among the numerous band of poetasters, whom the fame and genius of Burns called into ephemeral existence. He was truly a contemporary of Burns ; and, residing as he did for many years in the village of Tarbolton, knew him personally and intimately, and had the honour besides of being selected as the object of a few satirical couplets by the Poet. These have not been recorded, and were probably some extemporaneous flashes suggested by the poetical pretensions of Saunders^ who was then well advanced in years, and a kind of eccentric in his way. The lines of Burns, however, had the effect of rousing the ire of his contemporary ; and he retaliated in any thing but measured or complimentary language. Indeed, so grossly abusive and indecent are his verses — curious as they might be to many who have not seen the author's volume — that ALEXANDER TAIT. 148 we do not feel warranted in quoting more than a few of the most unobjectionable. Bums and David Sillar were " bosom cronies" at the time alluded to ; and it appears the latter had been also guilty of some poetical offence against the tailor. The first of the retaliatory pieces is entitled " Sillar and Tait ; or, Tit for Tat"— " My pipe wi' wind I maun gae fill 'er. And play a tune to Davie Sillar ;" and then the author goes on to describe some indiscretions with which David stood charged by the " feckless clash" of the neigh- bourhood, comparing him in these matters as a perfect equal to " braw Rab Burns." The village rhymster continues — " Ye are twa ranting, rhyming billies, The best colts that hae mounted fillies, * * * Search Greenock, Irvine, Ayr, or Killie's, There's not your match. Search Scotland all around by Lorn, Next round by Leith and Abercorn, Through a' Ayrshire, by the Sorn, Tak' merry turns, There's nane can soun' the baiody horn Like you and Burns. My tumbling-cart I hae her shod, I'll set her off upon the road, My muse in't, she will sit and nod Like auld Bell Ravey ; The whole way unto her abode She'll crack o' Davie. She'll tell about the auld pea-stack, IIow him and Susy was sae pack, O, Davie, lad ! 'tis from my heart. In Mr Wilson's was the part Ye ca'd my muse a tumbling-cart,* Gaun wan tin' shoon ; But I will mak' her try her art. On you to croon." 144 ALEXANDER TAIT. Having thus repaid Davie for his compliment, he next directs his attack on Burns : — " Now I maun trace bis pedigree Because he made a sang on me." Under the titles of " Burns in his Infancy," " Burns in Lochly," " Burns''s Hen clockin"' in Mauchlinc," he accordingly endeavours to satirize the character of the Poet in a style at once scandalous and disgusting. The specimen already afforded, we doubt not, sufficiently indi- cates the poetic character and rank of the author. His pieces would, in short, be intolerable but for their absurdity, and are only amusing from the local incidents to which they allude. Be- fore adverting farther to the contents of his volume, however, it may not be improper to state the few particulars we have gleaned of the writer. He is generally understood to have been a native of Tarbolton, but from one of his songs, entitled " The Author's Nativity," it is rather to be presumed that he was born some- where in Peebles-shire ; — " Leethen so pretty ,"j- Where first I drew breath, There my mother Betty, She clad me wi' claith. A shirt, coat, and vest, Breeks, stockings, and shoon, My hair neatly dress'd, And a wee hat aboon. Then from Dewar's swair I tripp'd on my shanks, By pretty Traquair, Up to Glendin's banks. * Tumbling, or coup-cart — a very rude species of machine, somewhat similar to the cars still in use in the less advanced districts of Ireland. They had wooden axletrees and wheels, most of them unshod, or bound with iron ; and, being seldom greased, made a fearful grating noise. + By Leethen, we presume he means the river Lcithcn, in the shire of Peebles. Probably the locality of his birth is the watering-place since well known as Liner- leithcn. ALEXANDER TAIT. 145 There sat I, and sang Upon yon green brow, Tlie bonnie banks rang The music all through. There the goshawks fly, In the banks they deck, ■ Wliat language you'll cry, They'll repeat it direct.'''' But Ave have not space for farther quotation from this inimitable effusion ; and shall therefore leave the goshawks to clech undis- turbed on Glendin's banks, while we endeavour to trace the sub- sequent career of the songster, with His hair neatly dress"d, And a wee hat aboon. Notwithstanding that he had thus given, like another Apollo, such early promise of melodious numbers, that The bonnie banks rang The music all through, the Fates it appears decreed that he should become a tailor, and, in lieu of Glendin's banks with its flowery sward, thenceforth take his seat on the board. Though born in a classic land, poor Saunders does not appear to have drank deeply at the Helicon springs, which afterwards inspired a Scott and a Hogg. Indeed, his education seems to have been very limited ; and it is probable that his rude " tumbling-cart" of a muse might have remained for ever silent but for the example of Burns. Saunders found his way Avestward in the capacity of a pedlar ; and as in those days mantua-raaking formed no inconsiderable branch of the business of a tailor, it Avas not unusual for him, on selling a goAvn-piece, to remain in the house of the fair purchaser until he had shaped and scAved it. Latterly, however, he laid aside the pack, and settled in the village of Tarbolton, where he became a well-known character, and is still remembered by not a few of the elderly inhabitants. He was a smart, active, sort of personage, Avith a great degree of vivacity in his smiling counten- ance ; and, as he possessed an inexhaustible fund of anecdote and humour, he Avas the very life and soul of Avedding, rockmg., or T I 40 ALEXANDER TAIT. other merry-making parties. At the country fireside, he was always a Avelcome addition. Every body esteemed him ; for, althougli his poetical license of lampooning sometimes created an enemy, no one cared to provoke his muse by manifesting their displeasure. All local squabbles, or any peculiar occurrence, found a ready chronicler in Saunders. Though regarded as somewhat of an eccentric, he had nevertheless considerable influence in the village, and took an active hand in every public movement. At the time the building of the Secession Church was in progress, to the erection of which the parish minister and neighbouring gentry were greatly opposed, the work was interrupted for the want of hewn stone. At a public meeting held to consider what should be done, he undertook to manage the affair by a plan which he said lie had in his eye. The scheme was a very circuit- ous one, and nobody thought it would prove successful ; never- theless, he gained his object in a few days, and thereby established his reputation for superior sagacity. With the view of augmenting the number of members, the Universal Friendly Society of Tarbolton used to have frequent processions. On these occasions there were generally two candi- dates for the Colonelcy, and the one who produced most members became entitled to the honour. The canvass was usually keen. At one of the contested affairs of this kind, Sandy started in opposition to William Sillar, Spittleside, (brother of the poet, David,) and gained by a great majority. Our informant perfectly recollects the Poet with his cocked hat marching proudly through the village, at the head of the long train of members who followed. He was also Bailie of Tarbolton for some time — no mean proof of his respectability and character. In allusion to the various offices of trust and honour confided in him, he says in one of his poems — " I'm Patron to the Burgher folks, I'm Comal to the Fanners' Box, And Bailie to gnid hearty cocks, That arc a' grand — Has heaps o' houses built on rocks, AVi' lime and sand." Saunders was at one period a man of property, having purchased ALEXANDER TAIT. 147 two or three houses in the village ; but these he did not long retain, Avhether because he had not the means, or wished to realize a profit by the sale, it is impossible to say. In 1794, when the late Earl of Eglinton, then Major Mont- gomerie, raised his regiment of West Lowland Fencibles, Saun- ders, though well advanced in years, was among the first, we believe, to enrol his name under the banners of the warlike Major. In " Kay's Edinburgh Portraits," where a portrait and a memoir of the Earl are given, the following notice of Tait, by way of a foot-note, is also appended : — " Among others who ' followed to the field"" was an eccentric personage of the name of Tait. He was a tailor, and in stature somewhat beneath the military standard;* but he was a poet, and zealous in the cause of loyalty. He had sung the deeds of the Montgomeries in many a couplet ; and, having animated the villagers with his loyal strains, resolved, like a second Tyrtseus, to encourage his companions in arms to victory by the fire and vigour of his verses.. It is said he could not write ; nevertheless, he actually pu.blished a small volume of poems. These have long ago sunk into obli- vion. Still ' Sawney Tait, the tailor,' is well remembered. He was a bachelor ; and, like a true son of genius, occupied an attic of very small dimensions. At the ' June fair,' Avhen the village was crowded, Saunders, by a tolerated infringement of the excise laws, annually converted his ' poet's corner' into a temple for the worship of Bacchus, and became publican in a small way. He was himself the presiding genius, and his apartment was always well frequented, especially by the younger portion of the country people, who were amused with his oddities. He sung with pecu- liar animation ; and failed not to give due recitative effect to the more lengthy productions of his muse : — it might be in celebra- tion of a bonspiel, in which the curlers of Tarbolton had been victorious over those of the parish of Stair — of a love-match — or such other local matter calculated to interest his rustic hearers, by whom his poems were highly applauded as being ' unco weel put thegithcr.' Some of his songs obtained a temporary popularity. * Those who recollect him say that he was a stout, wcU-foiiued man, of middle stature. 148 ALEXANDER TAIT. One, in particular, on Mrs Alexander of Ballochmyle, was much talked of, probably from the circumstance of the lady having con- descended to patronise the village laureate, by requesting his at- tendance at Ballochmyle, where he recited the piece — was rewarded — and afterwards continued to be a privileged frequenter of the hall. Poor Saunders, unluckily, was more in repute for his songs than his needle. IJe was, no doubt, vmcommonly expeditious ; in proof of which it is told that on some particular occasion he had made a coat in one day ; but then his ' steeks' were prodigi- ously long, and with him fashion was out of the question, abiding as he always did by the ' good old plan."* The result was, that, Avliile his brethren of the needle were paid eightpence a-day, Saunders acknowledged his inferiority, by claiming no more than sixpence ! The military ardour of the Poet was somewhat evan- escent. Whether the duties were too fatiguing, or whether his compatriots had no relish for poetical excitements, we know not ; but true it is that, in the dusk of a summer evening, some few weeks after the departure of the Fencibles, Saunders was seen entering the village, leading a goat which he had procured in his travels, and followed by a band of youngsters, who had gone to meet him on his approach.*" Saunders published his volume in 1790. It was printed in Paisley, we believe, " for, and sold by the author only," at the small charge of Is. 6d., though containing upwards of 280 pages, octavo. The song in praise of Mrs Alexander of Ballochmyle is as follows. We give it verbatim, as any attempt at amendment would be fruitless : — " THE LADY BALLOCHMYLE'S CHARIOT. TiMic, — Jamie the Rover. Miss Helen Maxwell, a young lady bright,* She was a match for Duke, Lord, or Kniglit, From bonnie SpringkcU she's now ta'en her flight, And landed in Catrine Valley. * The lady here celebrated is Helenora, wife of Claud Alexander, Esq. of Balloch- myle, daughter of Sir Alexander Maxwell of Springkell, and granddaughter of that Sir Michael Stewart who died in 17.06. Ardgowan, in Renfrewshire, was her grand- father's seat. ALEXANDER TAIT. 149 Her grandfather, knight, at Ardgowan doth dwell, And her father's the same, laird o' Springkell ; And she is lady in Catrine herseP, And she menily trips thro' the Valley. Alexander's trees they are tall and even. His lofty fine huildings topping nigh heav'n, There's pretty broad stairs, and up she runs scrivin, On the banks of Catrine Valley. At the foot of the stairs if you sing or say, The pretty fine rooms like fiddles will play. For to welcome home their bright lady gay, From Springkell to Catrine Valley. The first does sing treble, the fourth sings bass, The tenor always the counter does grace ; Then search all Ayrshire there's not such a place As the buildings in Catrine Valley. They've as many een as the're days in the year ; And, when ye come nigh them, they pretty appear ; Our greatest Scotch gentry that hae much gear. Can never come up wi' the Valley. There's pretty fine walks slides into the court, They twist and they twine, like a serpent about. And then at the top, three branches spread out That prettily lead thro' the Valley. Then all around these fine shadowing bow'rs. Are pretty fine walks, and bonnie red flow'rs. With a gallant clock to tell them the hours, To he seen all on Catrine Valley. The great Apollo when Daphne he saw, By the one-half sure she was na sae braw. Lady Alexander did excel a' That was upon Etitcrkine Alley. I saw her upon the top o' the stair. In gold links pretty was curl'd Iicr hair ; She's bonnie, handsome, delightful, and fair, Helen Maxwell in Catrine Valley. Miss Peggy by her, wi' een like a bead, Her brow it is brent, and her lips they are red, She excels the ladies on Tay or on Tweed, Miss Peggy on Catrine Valley. li>0 ALEXANDER TAIT. There I saw the King stand at her left hand. And down he bowM just at her command ; She's the prettiest htdy in a' our laud, Helen Maxwell in Catrine Valley, The pinkies and flowers upon Catrine meads, When she goes by them, they a' nod their heads ; The bonnie M'ce nightingale peeps thro' the reeds, To see her trip over the Valley. Her nature, her stature, and features so fine, Ye wad thiniv lier not human but divine, I will paint her picture, when I get time, Helen Maxwell in Catrine Valley. She has a carriage they call a machine, The silver that's on't wad dazzle your een, To see her, and liow they whirl so clean, Thro' the banks of sweet Catrine Valley. The horse that was in't was a chestnut brown, The cleverest ever skipt thro' the town, When she is in, it rins pretty and soun', Thro' the banks of Catrine Valley. Andrew Mitchel* drives as straight as a line ; The silver harnessing he makes to shine ; The hammer-claith under him bobs so fine, Upon sweet Catrine Valley. The trimming about it is in three raw, Their livery is black and white velvet a' ; Sae fare ye weel, Catrine, I must awa', Down the banks on the side of the Valley." The manner in which the " village laureate" had sung the deeds of the Montgomeries, may be gathered fi-om the following: — " CO[I]LSFIELD'S HAWKS AND GREYHOUNDS. In imitation of Chevy-Chace. Through Colsfield banks his hawks they fly, Cleek paitricks in the air ; Below his hawks the gi'eyhounds ply, And take kywart the hare. * For many years coachman at Ballochmyle. He afterwards became a veterinary surgeon in Ayr, and long enjoyed very considerable practice. ALEXANDER TAIT. There's Robison and Kennedy, So nimbly scour the fells, Of all the huntsmen bear the gree, Their hawks still bear the bells. Their feathers they keep in good trim, Each in his proper place ; Up thro' the skies you'll see them dim', The woodcocks sweetly chacc. It is a pleasant sight to see, Likewise a gallant match, Thro' crystal skies so sweetly flee The Lawks the cock to catch. The hawk comes up in a short space, And kills the cock so free, The vera way o' Chevy-chace, Montgomerie slew Piercy. Sir Hugh Montgomerie was his name. His sword came clever knells, He lost his life, that raised his fame. Upon sweet Cheviot fells. The English heads he gart them dance, Thro' hundreds he did steer. Thro' Earl Piercy he thrust at once His gallant sharp stout spear. His offspring yet they have the land Of bonnie Skelmorlie, Montgomcrie's street's at their command, And bowers five hundreds three. When that great battle it was done, Great Piercy's king did groan ; The Scottish king thought it fine fun. For Douglas made no moan. England and Scotland's made a league, They're just like man and wife. If one cut off another's head, For't he must lose his life. So fare ye well, brave Skelmorlie, Where heroes do resort, Since Scotch and English they agree, And play at rural sport." 151 152 ALEXANDER TAIT. In another set of verses — to the tune of " Peggy an' ye die" — on the " Ilhiniination of Tarbolton on the recovery of his Ma- jesty"" [George III.], the loyalty and liberality of Major Mont- gonierie are celebrated in the most lively style of the author : — " My voice I'll raise and sing the praise Of Hugh Montgomerie ; May he hae mony merry days In bonnie Skelmorlie. He drums gart sound Tarbolton round, His farmers to invite ; His feuars they must all be found Upon Montgomerie Street. Our Provost, and the Bailies too, Were in the finest trim, And all the Council, in our view. They were exceeding prim. Our Council they went up the street, The fiddles play'd so fine. When them and Colsfield all did meet, Tlie town M'ith lights did shine. The drums did roar at Quintan's door, WTien the Comal did appear, And guns went off, below ten score. And then gae him a cheer. The town was hung with lights for that, Just every street out through ; And then a tun of rum we gat, And drank till we were fu'. Then Colsfield did begin the toasts, Twa bowls where ships miglit swim ; For it was him who bare the costs, We all do him esteem. The King and Queen, with merry glee. Their health he drank them round. And all the Royal family, And then the drums did sound. Likewise, at that he waved his hat, Three cheers so loud and high, The guns did crack so loud at that, The squibs did upward fly. ALEXANDER TAIT. And then the noble Prince of Wales, His health he round did toast. To banish Popery o' Versailles Quite from our British coast : To gallant Pitt, long may he sit Our minister of state ; For if he die, or slip a fit. His match we'll never get : To the land of cakes, and good bccf-steaks— The farmers bear the gi'ee. And them that fattest cattle makes, Wi' their industry. When all these healths were drunk around, To dance we then did fa' •, That merry night therefore to crown. Till Colsfield went awa'. The bells did ring, the fiddles sing, The de'il come stick the priest, Since hale and tight is George our King ; This is Montgomerie's jest. He is our head, we are his feet, His lady she's the waist. His children they are mild and sweet, And modestly they're placed. There's pretty plants in Colsfield banks. So pleasant to the view, The trees grow straightly on their shanks. You'll see as ye gang through. With velvetaire, and walks so fair. Surrounded wi' a hem, Wi' gallant greyhounds for the hare. And hawks to take the game. To his garden side I could you guide. There's a serpent walk so fine ; The peacocks sit in muckle pride. Their tails hke Phojbus shine. The lion he docs watch his yard. The bear his pretty hall ; May He above them watch, the laird, Lady,, and children all. 153 u 154 ALEXANDER TAIT. Mr Archibald lie is gone abroad* Unto llipli Germany, Yc gvuirdian angels, clear his road Safe home to his country. Mr Roger he is for the Beas,+ O Eolus, calm tho squalls ! And, Neptune, roll him curiously, Thro' large tempestuous gales. The crows they fly high in the air. And make such pretty mirth 4 Few parts wth Colsfield can compare, That's yet upon the earth. There's the goldfinch, the linnet, and thrush. The blackbird skipping through, The warblers chant frac every bush. Farewell, Colsfield, adieu !" The erection of the Catrine Cotton-Mills, commenced in 1786, was another matter of too much interest to escape the fertile and observant genius of Saunders : — " To the pretty lads buys our lairds estates, And wins their money in foreign parts ;J They make our tradesmen to rant and rair, And build cotton-mills on the banks o' Ayr. There's Claud Alexander in Ballochmyle, May Providence upon him smile, And never let his purse run bare. While he's upon the banks o' Ayr. Wi' Sir William Maxwell o' Springkell, And his pretty daughter none can excel ; * Archibald, afterwards Lord Montgomerie, attained the rank of Major-General, and died while abroad for his health in 1814. He manned Lady Mary Montgomerie, eldest daughter of the eleventh Earl of Eglinton, by whom he had two sons, the eld- est of whom is the present Earl of Eglinton. Lady Mary subsequently married Sir Charles Lamb, Bart, of Beauport. 't' The Hon. Roger Montgomerie died at Port-Royal, Jamaica, in January 1799. X The Poet here alludes to the purcliase of Ballochmyle by the late Claud Alex- ander, Esq., from Sir John Whitefoord, whose embarrassments compelled him to part with the estate. The works were begun and carried on by Mr Alexander and the late David Dale, Esq., till 1801, when they were purchased by the present company, Messrs James Finlay & Co. ALEXANDER TAIT. 153 Her old son, now a boy so feir, To Ballochmyle he is the heir. His lady-mother frora Craigen's place, Of gentle blood, and of ancient race, May her heart be merry and seldom sair, While she's upon the banks o' Ayr. Mr Allan from Lanark is head engineer •, He at one touch makes ten thousand steer, Of gpin'les and trin'les, jennies, like wire, Ca'd wi' the water on the banks o' Ayr. Gallant Claud he supplies our need. And erects plans for our daily bread ; O' his vast fortune he gies a share To tradesmen upon the banks o'' Ayr. Wi' twenty guineas of ready clink, Claud Alexander's health to drink. To Mauchline all they did repair, And drank his health on the bunks o' Ayr. In Mr Dove's they danced the night tlirougli. Men, wives, lasses, and lads anew ; So tight they tripped, pair and pair. Upon the pleasant banks o' Ayr. There's the linnet, nightingale, and lark. At pretty Catrine e'er it be dark. All sing so sweet wi' throats so clear, They're sweet music-bells on the banks o' Ayr." Thus liave we devoted more space than we feel altogether jus- tified in appropriating to the works of one so far below mediocrity as the Poet of Tarbolton ; yet, though rude and often laughably ridiculous, Saunders seems to have groped his way a little in Scottish history. He has a long ballad entitled the " Battle of the Largs," also verses on that of Loncartie, Dunkeld, Abcr- lenmy, Roslin, &c., all of which display a pretty accurate know- ledge of the leading circumstances connected with these import- ant national events. Though localized in Tarbolton, Saunders appears from his volume to have spent some time in Paisley. The following lines commemorate the " Burial of Lord Abercorn :" — 156 ALEXANDER TAIT. "■ Paisley High Kirk's like a temple, Craigans, Dcuchal, Castle-scmple, So tightly co'ert wi' slate ; The Abbey Kirk sounds like a horn, There buried is Lord Abcrcom, EmbalmM he lies in state. Fn black coaches and horse were drest, So slowly did they creep, Because their master's win to rest, And in the tomb must sleep. The saulies in rallies Did after other go ; Wi' sleepers and weepers It was a mournful sliow." As this effusion relates to James sixth Earl of Abercorn, who died 9th October 1789, and was buried in the family sepulchre, (" the Sounding Aisle,") it may be regarded as in so far fixing the period of the Poet''s sojourn in Paisley, A worthy septua- genarian (an ex-bailie) of that town, remembers " Sawney Tait" M-ell. The Poet was, at the period alluded to, a journeyman tailor with one Daniel Mitchell, in John Street. The lads in the wTaving-shop next door, having found out his rhyming pro- pensities, were in the habit of challenging him to a trial of skill, and scraps of verses passed between them, greatly to the amuse- ment of the weavers, who were obliged to admit that the Tailor's goose made the smoothest doggrel. As a sample of the inter- change of rhyming ware, the Bailie recollects the following qua- train : — " John Street is the King's nurscric,* Lonwell's the place where colours flee, Sandholes it is the place of trade, In Sanny Paton's shop or bed." As Saunders continued in the employ of Mitchell-f- only * This street was somewliat noted for the number of youth who enlisted. + " Daunie" Mitchell was also from Tarbolton, and appears to have been as queer a fish as his journeyman. He had rrnrtk of droll stories and anecdotes, which his ac- quaintances could easily draw from liim over a gill, when they wanted diversion. One of his stories would have made a capital " History" in the hands of Dugald Graham, and misht liave been entitled " The Wondorful Adventures of Daunie Mitchell, ALEXANDER TAIT. 157 about half a year, and is known to have returned immediately afterwards to Tarbolton, it is probable that his volume was in the press during this brief period — his economical habits having dic- tated the contrivance of working as a journeyman while the print- ing of his poems was in progress. Our reminiscences of the Poet extend little farther. He was never married, and, as mentioned in the extract from Kays Por- traits^ lived generally in a garret, without any companion whatever save a large tame rat, which invariably made its appearance at meal-time. One day a female came in when Saunders and his favourite Avere at dinner together. The rat, not accustomed to in- terruption, sprung up below the intruder's petticoat — she screamed for assistance — and, some of the neighbours rushing in, the rat was killed, much to the grief and wrath of the Poet. Among the many things for which the tailor was distinguished, we may men- tion his fondness for Pennystone playing. He once undertook a match with a flesher from Ayr, and beat him. Saunders did not long survive his return from the Fencibles. Being ill, and finding his end approaching, he was taken to the house of William Wallace, Millburn, a short distance from the village, and died there towards the close of the century, about forty years ago. Tailor,"' — showing how that Daunie, in flying from a ganger, took refuge in a cooper's shade, where he hid himself in a barrel. How the cooper came and knocked on the head of the barrel, while Daunie lay within and durst not discover himself. How a bull came past, and, while rubbing himself against the banel, was seized by Daunie by the tail through the bung-hole. How the bull roared and flang, and knocked Daunie and the barrel into the Water-of-Ayr. How Daunie stopped the bung-hole with his coat-tail, and went swimming down the water as far as the town of Ayr, when the folks on the river side, every one crying, " The barrel's mine — the barrel's mine !" drew the prize to land. How tliat, finding the barrel to contain something heavy, it was broken open, when out jumped Daunie, exclaiming — " The barrel's yours ! — na, na, the barrel's viinc !'''' and marched off with it in triumph, while the good folks of Ayr scampered away helter-skelter, believing him to be no other than the devil himself. 158 GAVIN DALZIEL. GAVIN DALZIEL, AUTHOR OF " JOHN AND SAUNDERS, A PASTORAL ON THE DOWNFAL OF NAPOLEON," &c. Gavin Dalziel, to whom James Fisher, the blind musician of Ochiltree, addresses a poetical epistle in his volume, published in 1792, was a native of the parish of Old Cumnock, and born, we should suppose from the advanced age at which he died, about the year 1764. In a poem inscribed to the Marquis of Bute, he says — " Near Lugar green banks on the braes of tlie Kyle, My natal years pass'd there, nature did smile." His father was a weaver, to which occupation he also was brought up ; but, being of a weakly constitution, he early abandoned the sedentary labour of the loom for the wandering life of a travelling chapman — a course more agreeable to his inclination, though ex- ceedingly ill qualified for it in many other respects. His general appearance was that of a person in the last stage of consumption. His hair, of a sooty black, was combed back and bound behind with tape. From under his shaggy eyebrows two small grey eyes, set far back in their sockets, lighted up his lank and sallow visage, which was somewhat deformed by two large buck-teeth that pro- jected over his under-lip, and marred the dissonant sounds of his screech-owl voice. His legs, nearly as small as drumsticks, were mounted on large feet, which he shuffled along seemingly with great difficulty. He was the " Rawhead-and-Bloodybones" of all the children in the district ; but the gudewives and lasses Avere not averse to hear his old-fashioned clatter, and frequently purchased from him in preference to any other pedlar. The circuit of his traffic Avas generally confined to the upper part of Ayrshire; but he occasionally Avent to GlasgoAv to replenish his pack. On one luck- less occasion, returning from that city to Ayrshire by Greenock, GAVIN DALZIEL. 159 with a pack in which all his wealth was concentrated, as he was carelessly sauntering along the quay, gazing at the number and beauty of the ships in the harbour, his mis-shapen feet came in such violent contact with a cable, as caused him to stumble head- long into the river. It was highwater at the time, and he would most certainly have been drowned but for the activity of a sailor, who, seizing a boat-hook, fixed it firmly in the pack of the unfor- tunate pedlar as he rose to the surface of the water, and thus held him up till rescued, by farther assistance, from his perilous situa- tion. The salt water and the boat-hook rendered poor Gavin''s muslins quite unsaleable, and consequently left him nearly penni- less. He made this sad mishap the subject of a monody ; and he has frequently been heard to say, that it was on this circum- stance that Wilson, the author of " Wattie and ISIeg,''' founded his poem, entitled " The Loss of the Pack." Some time after this, having got married, Gavin settled in the Newtown of Ayr as a teacher, but his school was attended only by a few children seemingly of the poorest class. Meg, his wife, apparently about his own age, was also a native of Cumnock. She tamboured very industriously, and, having no children, they succeeded betwixt them in securing a scanty subsistence, though their earnings were often sadly curtailed by Gavin's visits to the change-house. In imitation of Burns, he often sung in praise of John Barleycorn, and his habits were so irregular, that his request to become a member of the Ayr St Paul's Lodge of Freemasons was not complied with.* Soon after the rupture of the peace of Amiens, an Act was passed to raise a levy of 50,000 men to serve in the United Kingdom as an army of reserve. When on one of his rambles, Gavin happened to fall in with the agent of an Insurance Com- pany, employed to procure substitutes for individuals balloted into the service, and by him, notwithstanding the uncouth ap- * Mr Joseph Train, of whom we shall have occasion to speak in a subsequent me- moir, was at this time Master of the Lodge, and it is worthy of notire that, in one year, he etitered, passed, and raised upwards of seventy persons. Mr Train has yet in' in his possession a silver medal, presented to him by the members of j\yr St Paul's Lodge in 1 806. I - sure his past losses — and realize that humble serenity and social felicity he had so often anticipated in the bosom of friendship and love. But before the sombre traces of his former sorrows were erased, he saw his country plunged into unprecedented 180 JOHN BURTT. wretchedness by the narrow-minded policy, and sliameless selfish- ness, and intolerable arrogance of a faction which, having mounted the chariot of legislation, drove it over the necks of a hopeless, misrepresented, injured people : that, having done all his feeble powers were equal to, and that his conscience approved, in con- junction with his compatriots, finding his liberty endangered, and unable any longer to witness miseries he could not ameliorate, and to which he himself would probably fall a victim, he sought the shores of America — he sought the asylum of freedom — and the society of freemen.''' Nothing probably can ever compensate for the loss of country and the society of early friends, more especially to minds consti- tuted like that of the amiable and enthusiastic subject of our brief memoir ; but if good fortune and honour, in the land of their adoption, can at all pour the balm of conciliation into the wounded spirit of the expatriated, we are happy to say that Burtt has not been without the reward due to genius and to meritorious exertion. Still animated by that " love of learning" which had characterized his juvenile years, he prosecuted his studies at Princeton College, New Jersey, became a licentiate of the Pres- byterian Church, and was soon afterwards appointed to a charge at Salem. From thence, in January 1831, he went to Philadel- phia, where he Avas elected unanimously by the Presbyterian ministers and elders of that city to the editorship of a newspaper entitled " The Presbyterian." In 1838, he proceeded to Cin- cinnati, to conduct a religious paper called " The Standard." He was also minister of a small Presbyterian Church in that place; and was there honoured with a call, in August 1885, to the Chair of Ecclesiastical History in a Theological Seminary, or Hall of Divinity, as it would be denominated in Scotland. JOHN KENNEDY. 181 JOHN KENNEDY. John Kennedy, author of " Fancy's Tour with the Genius of Cruelty, and other Poems," and of a prose production, entitled " Geordie Chalmers, or the Law in Glenbuckie," was born in Kil- marnock on the 8d of October 1789. His parents, who were in a humble sphere of life, but of honest industrious habits, gave him such an education as the working people of Scotland generally bestow^on their children ; namely, reading, writing, and arithmetic. After leaving school, he was taught the art of weaving by his father, Avho also wrought at that vocation. It soon became ap- parent, however, from young Kennedy's superior powers of mind, which were early developed, that he was naturally fitted for some- thing more elevated than the drudgery of the loom ; and of this he probably was conscious, as his chief ambition in his early years, we are told, was to obtain such a degree of scholastic knowledge as might qualify him for one of the learned professions. But his father deemed it improper to encourage him in his desires, or was prevented, perhaps, from so doing by his limited circum- stances ; and the young Poet was under the necessity of remain- ing at the loom, with little hope of ever receiving that polite and classical education for which he ardently thirsted. By an eager application to books, however, he acquired, in the early part of his life, a considerable share of general information, and devoted no small portion of his leisure hours to the study of poetical and prose composition. Having a strong aversion to the trade of weaving, and seeing no way by which he could raise himself above it, he, in the year 1807, when about the age of eighteen, enlisted as a substitute in the Royal Ayrshire Militia, and received as a bounty the sum of thirty pounds sterling. With that corps he served honourably in Scotland, England, and Ireland, for about eight years, during which period his knowledge of mankind became considerably en- larged ; and, though surrounded with the bustle and glare of 182 JOHN KENNEDY. niilitary lite, yet he contrived to devote, as formerly, a part of his time to the cultivation of his mind, and to the study of poetry, Avhich was now perhaps his only source of rational enjoyment. Alluding to this period in an epistle to a correspondent, he some- Avhat humorously enumerates the various obstacles Avhich some- times interrupted him in liis poetic contemplations : — " O woel I liac min' o' tlic times she* wad flatter, O' ance, when sair dung, poor, afflicted, an' cross'd, 1 sat down to write thee a skreed o' a letter, When the drum beat lo arms, and the letter was lost ! » * * « Anithcr time, as I was smoking my cutty, I faun the muse had my auld knapper-case fired ; But, as she began to be canty an' witty, Sly Harry cam' in, an' the jingle expired ! An' weel I remember ae cauld winter gloamin', AA'hcn rcatchiiifj auld Ned, as he guzzled his grog ; I took out my keel, dreading evil frac no man, When the corijoral seized mc as ye wad a dog ! An' ance when for duty, I faun mysel' musing. My quill gaed to wark, an' completed a stave ; But I'd better been absent wi' tinklers carousing, For they sent me to drill for neglecting to shave !" From these reflections, and many others scattered throughout his writings, a soldier's life, it would appear, Avas not so congenial to him as he probably imagined it would be when he entered the service. He was naturally of an independent mind, and a lover of freedom and of justice ; and, consequently, must have fre- quently felt with the utmost indignation the petty tyranny of those who, though his superiors in rank, were, in all likelihood, infinitely beneath him in judgment and intelligence. Besides, the system of flogging, so repugnant to the feelings of humanity, was at that time too prevalent in the army ; and, to one of his susceptibility of heart, it must have been painful in the extreme to witness the flesh of his fellow-soldiers mangled and lacerated by the lash, for some trifling oflTence scarcely worthy of a name. * The Muse. JOHN KENNEDY. 183 At the general peace in 1815, Kennedy, along with others, received his discharge; and judging from the following sonnet, composed on the occasion, he appears to have felt delighted on being emancipated from a line of life so completely inimical to those principles of liberty which he so highly cherished. The sonnet, in our opinion, shows that the mind of its author was lightened with a ray of the diviner flame ; in short, it is a fine little effusion, " stamped," as Campbell would express it, " in the mintage of sovereign genius r"" — " The bliss that poets feel when all-inspired, They tune the lyre to love's bewitching theme — The joy that warriors know when glory-fired, They snatch the laurels of immortal fame — May give some faint resemblance of the joy That thrill'd my soul that memorable day ; When something more than rapture fiUM my eye. And something more than glory sent a ray, Dispelling the long-gather'd midnight gloom. Dark as the bosom of the vaulted tomb ; AVhen 'fore my eyes stood heaven-born Liberty In all the glow of Eden's virgin bloom, And with an angel's voice thus .said to me, ' Go ! breathe thy native air — this mandate makes thee free.' " Mr Kennedy now returned to Kilmarnock, and again sup- ported himself by working at the loom. About this time he acquired the Latin language ; and, as in former years, took every opportunity of adding to his stock of knowledge by reading, and by intercourse with a few literary associates, among whom was the ingenious Burtt — a sketch of whose life we have just given. Burtt was then teaching in Kilmarnock ; and, being about to leave that place for Paisley, Kennedy became his successor. He now found more leisure for study and reflection, while at the same time he evinced much zeal and industry in the discharge of his important duties as an instructor of the young. In 1816, he was induced, from a spirit of patriotism, to take a part in political matters. On the 7th day of December of that year, a public meeting was held at Dean Park, near Kilmarnock, for the purj^ose of deliberating on the best method of remedying the distresses of the country. At that meeting Kennedy de- 184 JOHN KENNEDY. livered an address — the subject of which was military flogging — in wliich he depicted with great animation, and in striking lan- guage, the miseries which the poor soldier was compelled to suifer by that degrading system of punishment.* In the course of a year or two after the above meeting was held, it will be recollected that individuals, calling themselves reformers, recom- mended to the people in the Avest of Scotland the propriety of forcing Jfrom the Government, by physical means, that political freedom which they despaired of obtaining by petitioning. But Kennedy, though always an earnest advocate of genuine reform, strongly disapproved of recourse to unconstitutional methods, and consequently kept himself apart from the society of those who were most active in the movement. It would appear, however, that the eye of suspicion was fixed upon him after his appearance on the Dean Park hustings ; for, although he performed almost no part in the political proceedings of 1819, yet he did not altoge- ther escape suiFering, as will be seen from his subsequent history. About that time he was preparing for publication, by subscrip- tion, his first poetical volume, and had occasion to communicate with several acquaintances at a distance, by way of procuring sub- scribers for the work. Among those with whom he corresponded was a person of the name of Logan, residing in Ayr, Avho had served along with him in the militia. Logan was warmly attached to, and somewhat actively engaged in, the cause of radicalism. A letter Avhich he had written and transmitted to a body of dele- gates, assembled in Glasgow, was detected, and considered as seditious. His house was immediately searched by the authori- * At the Dean Park meeting a well-written speech or paper, composed by Burtt, who was then in Paisley, was also read. The speech of Mr Alexander M'Laren, a talented and respectable tradesman, who opened the proceedings, was thought to bo seditious and inflammatory. He was therefore tried for sedition at Edinburgh, on the ."Jth and 7th March of the following year, and, being found guilty, was sentenced to six months' imprisonment. Mr Thomas Baird, a very respectable merchant, wlio did not speak at the meeting, but having been appointed by a committee to superintend the publication of a pamplilet containing the various addresses delivered on the occasion, was likewise, along with jVIr M'Laren, tried for the same offence ; and, being also found guilty, received as a punishment the same period of imprisonment. They had besides to find caution for their good behaviour for the space of three years ; the former under a penalty of forty pounds, and the latter under a penalty of two hundred pounds sterling. JOHN KENNEDY. 185 ties, in the expectation of discovering other documents con- nected with the movement, and a number of letters were found, among which were several written by Kennedy. They were for- tunately, however, all of a literary character, except one that related to a meeting about to take place in Wallacetown, in which our author earnestly cautioned his friend to conduct him- self wisely and legally, concluding with the emphatic words — " Remember the Dean Park C But though nothing of a crimi- nal nature was observed in his letters, still fortune seemed deter- mined, as it were, to look upon poor Kennedy with a threatening aspect. Among the papers found in the possession of Logan, Avere two signed with the fictitious signature of " Stradone^'' which were reckoned in a high degree seditious or treasonable. It was considered by the Sheriff that these letters might be the production of Kennedy. Orders were therefore given to the magistrates of Kilmarnock to search his house, which they did with the greatest care, but no writings of an illegal description were discovered, nor could any clue be found leading to a know- ledge of the author of the letters in question. Many manuscripts, however, were taken away by the magistrates, and despatched to Ayr for the inspection of the Sheriff. Among others was the first sketch of the history of " Geordie Chalmers," which was published about that time in a periodical work entitled the " Kil- marnock Mirror ;" but the Sheriff, no doubt finding that Geordie was an imaginary and not a real character, returned it again to the author. Meantime Kennedy Avas apprehended, and sent to Ayr for examination. Logan was also apprehended, but earnestly asserted his ignorance of the source from which the letters had emanated, adding that, from the style of the penmanship, he was sure they were not the performance of Kennedy. At his exami- nation before the Sheriff, Kennedy declared in the most solemn manner that he was not the author of the letters signed " Stra- done^'' nor could any proof be procured to testify to the contrary. He now naturally expected to be set at liberty, but was told that he must give hail for his future appearance. In a letter to his brother, Mr William Kennedy, he thus describes the state of his feelings on that unfortunate occasion : — " J now fairly expected 2 A 18() JOHN KENNEDY. to be relieved ; but GcorJie Clialiners wasna born to be sae easily dealt wi\ They telt me I bit to stay a niclit or twa, and gie bail. When I heard this I cou\l a flown through the roof." In the same letter — dated Sabbath morning, the 27th February 1820 — he says, " If brought to the bar of my country to answer for sedition, I shall not flinch, with the help of my God — the God and patron of liberty, of love, of justice, of time, and eter- nity — of virtue and every thing that is noble, and great, and re- splendently glorious, and good ; I shall face my judges and jurors, and most assuredly plead my own cause. But I trust it will not come to this. I am only grieved for my friends. Perhaps I am in my element. I am at any rate far from being downhearted. I quite forget that this is the Sabbath morning. Peace be to us all ! Keep up your hearts, I know not whetlier I should give bail till once I know my crime." On the Monday following his father and brother went to Ayi-, and, under a bond of sixty pounds, became security for his ap- pearance when required. Kennedy was now liberated, and fondly trusted he would be troubled no more with the matter ; but it was yet his fate to feel the malignant influence of similar misfortunes. The first of April 1820 — as is well known — was fixed on by the Radicals as the day on which they should muster in arms against the Government of the country ; but, as might have been ex- pected, the scheme, which folly had so thoughtlessly devised, proved altogether abortive. The Government, however, were de- termined to make examples of those who had acted a principal part in the affiiir ; and, for the purpose of securing such persons, a considerable number of infimtry and cavalry, with one piece of cannon, were introduced into Kilmarnock early on the morning of the 14th of the above month, before the inhabitants were awake. Several persons, who were considered to be leading char- acters^ were taken from their homes and committed to prison ; and Kennedy, who had so lately been in imprisonment, was once more apprehended, and conveyed, under a strong escort of cavalry, to the county jail. He again underwent a strict examination, but nothing of a seditious or treasonable nature having been found against him, he was liberated after enduring nineteen days and JOHN KENNEDY. 187 nights of close confinement. Though upheld by an entire consci- ousness of his innocence with regard to every imputation, his sen- sitive and independent spirit felt most intensely under the depri- vation of liberty, and the ignominious treatment to which he had been subjected. Indeed, he often afterwards remarked upon the severe laceration his feelings underwent at this period ; and it was one of those events in his short life, that left an indelible impres- sion upon his mind. The solitude of his cell, however, was in some degree sweetened by the pursuit of his favourite studies. The following little poem, composed by our author while in prison, will, we doubt not, be perused with pleasure : — " THE HOPE OF IMMORTALITY. What cheers the pilgrim on his way To the land of darkness and decay. When his eyes are dim, and locks arc gi'ay ? The hope of immortality. What gives the patriot joy, when borne By adverse fate, by anguish torn ; When all arovmd him droops forlorn ? The hope of immortality. What fills the minstrel wth delight When his Intc is broke, and death's dark night Appears ; when fancy takes her flight ? The hope of immortality. Say ye who know the soldier's fate ; His woes, and pains, and perils great ; What makes him die \rith soul elate ? The hope of immortality. What soothes the prisoner in his cell, Wiicn soiTows keen his bosom swell. As friends have ta'en the long farewell ? The hope of immortality. Call it not vain to answer here, When death dissolves the union dear ; What is't that dries the lover's tear ? The hope of immortality. What makes the parent o'er his rhild Bend with resignation mild, A\'h(i\ tlic lips are closed that lately smiled ? The hope of immortality. 1S8 JOHN KENNEDY. What gives to friendship such"a cliarm. And makes the bosom beat so warm, And quiets every dread alarm ? The hope of immortality. Come, then, O glorious end to cares ! And come my friends without your fears ! Come plighted love, without your tears. And welcome immortality !" In June 1820, Mr Kennedy obtained the situation of teacher at Chapel Green, near Kilsyth ; and, immediately after his settle- ment there, he married Miss Janet Houston, a young Avoman of an amiable disposition, and endowed with superior mental accom- plishments. The sea of life, on which he had hitherto been the sport, as it were, of adverse storms, began to assume a somewhat more serene and agreeable aspect ; for it may be said, if ever he enjoyed in the whole course of his existence any thing like real happiness, it was during his residence at Chapel Green. Prior to this period of his life, he had written and published two volumes of miscellaneous poetry ; but though they contained many pieces remarkable for strength of thought and vigour of expression, yet they brought him little or no profit, nor did they extend in any great degree the fame of their author. Perseverance, however, was fortunately a prominent feature of his character ; for, not- withstanding his want of success, he still continued to travel on in the path of literature, wooing occasionally the Muse, and pro- ducing many little pieces which found their way into the provin- cial periodicals of the day. Alluding to his first volumes, he himself says — " though his early aspirations did not raise him into fame, he at least, from those provincial papers which noticed " him, received such a reception as induced him to hold on his way." In 1826, he again published a poetical volume under the title of " Fancy\s Tour with the Genius of Cruelty, and other Poems.'''' This publication, which is dedicated with permission to Sir Archi- bald Edmonstone, Bart, of Duntreath,* is composed of selections from his former writings, together with some of the later produc- * Author of n " Journey to the Passes in Upper Eg;^'pt." JOHN KENNEDY. 189 tions of his pen. In perusing the volume, \ve feel someM-hat sur- prised that it is not more extensively known. The poetry is by no means of a commonplace description. On the contrary, it is frequently powerful and elevated, and displays on the part of the author an intimate knowledge of human nature, and a genuine- ness of feeling, not always to be found in the works of more cele- brated ^mters. In short, the poetical excellence of many of the pieces, and the noble spirit of patriotism, religion, and morality, which glows in almost every page, entitle the author, we should think, to a more respectable position among the bards of his country, than has yet been assigned him. Did our limits permit, we might gratify the reader with nu- merous selections. The following is from " Thoughts on the Millennium" — a poem distinguished by ease and sweetness, and breathing in many instances the pathos and piety of Pol- lok:— " But, hark ! the aong is rising on the gale, And, lo ! they come, the worshippers of heaven, Adown yon mountain's side ; where martyTS sang, Maugre the powers of hell, the strains of Zion ; Each with his sword and Bible, doubly arm'd. And rear'd for us a stately fabric fair ; Each goodly stone, the beauty of the Lord ! How solemnly they move the hill along, Filling the air with melody, that plays Like the sweet airs upon the ear, which Eve And her great sinless lord heard at the close Of earth's first week ; when music knew no jar. And every leaf stire'd at the sound of praise. Ennobled band ! grace flows from lip to lij> ! The smile of love is their's ! The hand of friendship And the eye of faith bespeaks a brotherhood Alike in aim ! No higher they aspire Than heaven — no lower they would be ! Choice friends ! Wrapt in eternity's almighty King ; And free as the breeze that wafts their song of love From hill to grove, green bank and flowery lea ; They come ; and, as they tread the hallow'd ground, The mountain flowers as eager to be prcss'd Exuberant spring, and kiss the passing foot ! The rivulets, gliding o'er the pebble, sing. Receiving from the overhanging bough 190 JOHN KENNEDY. The falling nuuibere of the thrush, which, mellow'J By tlic zephyr's sighing note, an olio forms Of 'trancing music, ravishing the soul ! And as they swell the sti-ain, the woodlands peal A double carol, and the skylark poure llcr variations sweet from yonder cloud. From which the spirits of our noble sires, Who braved the rack and flame for Scotia's weal. Look do\\7i well pleased ; even Sol well pleased Smiles from his car, and sheds a brighter beam. They come, they come, and every eye is full ; And every heart feels the sublime impulse Of inspiration o'er the hymn of love ! Mcthinks the blessM above are near with harps With which they raise the melodies of heaven ! Blow, ye sweet breezes ! how I love to hear The symphonies borne on your softening wings — 'Tis all enchantment ! antepast of bliss ! " The poem entitled " The Cliampion," is also full of choice thoughts. The address to Caledonia, Avith which it concludes, exhibits in an admirable light the patriotic and benevolent feel- ings of the Poet : — " O, Caledonia, first and best of lands ! O'er whom bright knowledge reigns and worth presides. My country ! to whom thy God has given The rich endo'wment and the generous gift ! Hear the request of one whose weal is thine. If thou art well and stored with goodly things, Thy rights secure, and all thy statutes mild ; Think on the horrors of the eastern clime ! When call'd by chime of Sabbath-bell to hear The words of truth, simplicity, and love. Think on those lands where Sabbath-bell is not ! If call'd to witness the departing scene — To close the eyes of some dear relative — To mingle in the group that bears along A wife — a husband — to the lowly tomb ; Think on the Ganges — on the pile — the gmve, Where life embraces death ! When sitting warm, Your soul illumined, and heart charm'd with strain Of noble Tillotson and classic Dwight ; Think on the pilgrim starving by the way — On Mecca think. Bear with me still ! When rises in thy mind the generous thought, And thou would'st add thv mite to swell the list JOHN KENNEDY. ^91 Of kind benevolence ; do not forget The tiger-worshippers in Afric wild ! Scotia ! my native land ! for whom my soul Bums, or alone, or in the crowd, by day Or night ; let not thy prudence shut thine eyes On the poor Pagan world where horror i-eigns ! Think on thy fathers ! on thine ancient priests, Wishart, and Mills the grand, and all the brave Who bled in battle, or on scaffold died, That thou might'st be a queen ! On them but think. And when thou sittest in the sanctuary ; Or in thy palace, or thy cot, secure From violation, as in castle strong ; Or when a-field thou skimm'st the do^vy grass. Fearing no danger from the woods around ; Let not proud selfishness engross thy mind, But cast an eye to Negro-land, and say — ' O that mine arm could break thy chain ; That thou wert free, enlighten'd ; that thy lot Were mine ; that thou had'st had a Knox, a Shields, A Wood, a Hamilton, a chief like old Argyle !' And O, my countrj- ! when thou think 'st on these, Let all thy soul within thee rise in love And gratitude to Him, who made thee great, AVho gave thee knowledge, peace, and honour gi'and ; Endearments social, pleasures rich and rare, And Liberty, the noblest gift of heaven !" In the following extract from the poem " On INIaternal Love,"" a mother''s affection for her child in the hour of sickness, is faith- fully portrayed : — " And in the sickly hour, when all is sad, No rest. Some fever drinking up the strength. And pain convulsive ravaging within — Then is the hour of keen solicitude ! Then is the eye suffused with pearly love ! Then is the soul of tenderness display'd ! O, could the muse describe the touching scene, The time of yearning heart, of exquisite Desire for but one hour of calm repose ; Or represent the joy that beams at sight Of health returning to tlic pallid ciieck ; Or tell the feelings of her soul that sends An orison to heaven, cnibalmM with tear?; Of gratitude, at death's averted blow !" 192 JOHN KENNEDY. In the concluding stanzas of the piece entitled " Puzzled for Matter," our author thus powerfully expresses his admiration of the poet Cowper : — " And where, O sterile muse ! whore is the man That sang the sofa ? — Cowper ! whore is ho ? Immortal bard ! — to bliss celestial gone ! — I'll ask no more — for truth is found in thee : For thine's the strain that tampers not with guile ; For thine's the muee that stoops not for applause ; For thine's the satire that unmasks the vile ; The heart that burns in fair religion's caiiso ; And thine's the humour of so chaste a kind. As ne'er to offend the most fastidious ear ; In thee the patriot and the man we find, The poet and the christian — all that's dear. Thou art the poet of humanity ; The bard all moral, all for public weal ; No place hast thou for piping low profanity, The curse of poetry. Thou dost not steal From stream polluted with ignoble lays, The scum of low lasciviousness, and dip Thy pen in ink all slander, and then praise The goddess of detraction. On thy lip Sits purity. The strains thy soul declare Pure as the fire of heaven, and bright as Love, Gliding up through the circumambient air To greet chaste Liberty, from realm above. Descending in a car of light to meet Her sister fair ! Thou art the freeman's theme ; The slave's best argument ; a store replete With noble maxims — worth immortal fame. Yes, Cowper, when old Time has pass'd away, And men have changed their forms ' beyond the bourne,' Angels shall warble o'er each freeborn lay, And bless the name of Cowper in their turn." The poem " On the Death of the Author's Son," contains some beautiful verses. How truly he describes the fleeting nature of human hopes and happiness ! JOHN KENNEDY. 19S " But vain are our hopes, and as transient our joys ; The worm preys within, and the sweet blossom dies ; The tear trickles down on the bosom of snow, To prove that no charm is exempted from woe ! The dark clouds arise with the sun in the morn ; By the lily upspringeth the thistle and thorn •, Like the glance of a star is felicity here ! The smile only flits to make room for the tear. And man is a dreamer— raud life is a dream ; And the dream is a snow-flake engulf 'd in a stream ! And time is that stream rolling on to the main Of eternity ; ne'er to roll past us again!" From " Fancy's Tour," the " Parting of Elijah and Elisha," and from " The Confession," some animated extracts might be given. The following lines, descriptive of a madman ''s dream, are taken from the latter production : — " To dream ! — ay ! — but his dream was dread. The pillow sti7iners help ioform a line. Like dandies learn to dress in time, Mak' squares like ony tiinme.r-u-hite.>\ All' ehurije, ay, like a very writek. Besides a' this, if foes should e'er, Or even Radicals appear, I'll no be last, believe my word, To sen' them ' Ilame' wi' jien or sword. Now, if ye like the terms aforesaid, There need bo very little more said ; To ser' his Majesty I'm willin'. Hie manus est, let's see the shillin'." Towards the close of the year 1822, Goldie published by sub- scription a small volume of " Poems and Songs," which he dedi- cated to James Hogg, the Ettrick Shepherd. He was prompted to this, less by ambition than from a laudable desira to extricate himself from those pecuniary embarrassments in which his previ- ous misfortunes had involved him. To the subscription list of this volume no fewer than forty of the leading literary characters of the metropolis added their names. This was accomplished entirely through the exertions of Mr Bell ; and, it is believed, had no slight effect in biasing the people of Ayrshire consider- ably in favour of the author. Jn the preface, he intimated that circumstances of little interest to the public had induced him to give publicity to the selection in that shape. The success of the expedient, though not e(|ual to his necessities, proved be- yond his expectations. As a literary production, the volume was perhaps not calculated greatly to extend his reputation. None of the pieces display much of the depth or imagination of a rich poetic genius ; nevertheless, there is a chasteness in his graver verses, and a vein of humour in the lighter, that gave fair pro- mise of more powerful efforts. " The Hour of Distress''"' is one of the best of his sentimental effiisions : — " O ! 'tis not while the fairy breeze fans the green ocean, That the safety and strength of the bark can be shown ; And 'tis not in prosperity's Iionr tlie devotion. The fervour, nml tnilli oi' :i friond can I;e kno^^•n. JOHN GOLDIE. 219 No 1 the bark must be proved when the tempest is howling, AVhen dangers and mountain-waves close on her press ; The friend, when the sky of adversity's scowling, For the touchstone of friendship's — the hour of distress. AVhen prosperity's daystai- beams pure and unclouded, Then thousands will mingle their shouts round its throne; But, oh ! let its light for one moment be shrouded, And the smiles of the faithless, like shadows, are gone. Then comes the true friend, who to guile is a stranger. The heart of the lone-one to sooth and caress ; While his smile, like the beacon-light, blazing in danger, Sheds a beam o'er the gloom of the hour of distress. O ! 'tis sweet 'mid the horrors of bleak desolation, While pleasure and hope seem eternally flown. When the heai't is first lit by the dear consolation. That a heaven of happiness yet may be won. Grief fades like the night-cloud, bliss mingles with sorrows. When the first sunny rays through the darkness appear ; And the rainbow of liope beameth bright, as it borrows All its splendour and light from a smile and a tear. O ! 'tis thou whose life's path hath been clouded and cheerless, Can feel that full burst of pure transport and bliss. When the trusted and tried friend comes boldly and fearless. To share, or relieve, the dark hour of distress. Past giicfs may yet cease to be thought on, but never Can time make the feeling of gratitude less ; May the blessing of God rest for ever and ever On him who forsook not in hours of distress !" The " Lines on the Funeral of Sir Alexander Boswell, Bart.," are not without merit : — " I heard you yon trumpet sound sad on the gale ? O ! heard you the voices of weeping and wail 'i ! saw you the horsemen in gallant array, As in sorrow and silence they moved on their way ? Wlien the train of love-uiourncrs arrived at the p;ilh That leads to the desolate mansions of death, O ! mark'd you each horseman lean sad on his sword, While the corse slo«7 While I Lad pitli to wield it louu', In battle I neVr met ^vP ane Could danton me, for Britain's crown, To do the same thing o'er again. Although I'm marcliing life's last stage, AVi' sorrow crowded roun' ray brow ; An' tliough the knapsack o' auld age Hangs heavy on my shoulders now — Yet recollection, ever new, Discharges a" my toil and pain. When fancy figures in my view The pleasant auld thing o'er again." Such is a specimen of the contents of the little volume which gave rise to the long-continued intimacy and con-espondence be- tween the author and Sir Walter Scott. Stimulated by the en- couragement of his distinguished patron, Mr Train became still more eager in the pursuit of ancient lore ; and being amongst the first to collect old stories in Galloway, with a view to publication, he soon obtained such a reputation, to use his own words, that " even beggars, in the hope of reward, came frequently from afar to Newton Stewart to recite old ballads and relate old stories" to him. The next letter from Sir Walter was in acknowledgment of various entertaining traditions forwarded by Mr Train, at the same time soliciting some information regarding the state of Tuniberry Castle, the Poet being then engaged in composing the " Lord of the Isles." With what success Mr Train set about the necessary inquiries, having undertaken a journey to the coast of Ayrshire for the purpose, appears from the notes appended to Canto Five of that magnificent Poem, wherein is given a description of Turn- berry Castle, the landing of Robert the Bruce, and of the Hos- pital founded by the deliverer of Scotland at King''s Case, near Prestwick. Through the kindness of Mr Hamilton of.Pinmorc, Mr Train procured from Colonel Fullerton, one of the mazers^ or drinking-horns, provided by the king for the use of the lepers, which he transmitted to Sir Walter. This interesting relic, much prized by the Baronet, was among the first of the many valuable antiquarian remains afterwards presented to him — the extensive collection of which now forms one of the chief attractions at Abbotsford. Much of the information communicated wa?; whollv 2(>S JOSEPH TRAIN. new to Scott. In reply, lie says — " Your information was ex- tremely interesting- and acceptable, particularly that wliicli related to the supposed supernatural appearance of the fire, which I hope to make some use of. It gives a fine romantic colour to the whole story." To what purpose Sir Walter availed himself of the tra- dition, appears from the glowing description of the incident in the " Lord of the Isles :"— " Now ask you wbcncc th:it wondrous light, Whose fairy glow beguiled their sight ? It ne'er was knowu — yet grey-hair'd cild A superstitious credeucc held, That never did a mortal hand Wake its broad glare on Carrick's strand ; Nay, and that on the self-same night AVhen Bruce cross'd o'er, still gleams tlic light ; Yearly it gleams o'er mount and moor. And glittering wave, and crimson'd shore ; But whether beam celestial, lent By heaven to aid the King's descent ; Or fire, hell-kindled from beneath. To lure him to defeat and death ; Or were it but some meteor strange Of such as oft through midnight range, Startling the traveller, late and lone — I know not, and it ne'er was known." The " Lord of the Isles" was published in the end of Decem- ber 1814. In the course of the following month, Sir Walter wrote to Mr Train, apologising for delaying to thank him for his " kind and liberal communications," and intimating a desire to befriend him should it ever be in his power. " It would give me great pleasure," are the words of Sir Walter, " if at any time I could be of the least service to you. I do not mean as an author, for therein the patient has always to minister to himself; and I trust the success of your own labours will gratify you completely in that particular. But though I am not acquainted personally with any of the gentlemen of your Board, it is possible I might have the means, or make them, of forwarding the prospects which you may entertain of advancement ; at any rate, I should most willingly try, if you are pleased to give me the opportunity at any time." JOSEPH TRAIN. 269 The interest thus manifested by Sir Walter in one with whom he had only recently become acquainted, was exceedingly credit- able to his feelings, and must have been highly flattering to the subject of his solicitude. JNIr Train, however, w^as not at this period in a position to benefit by his advances, having been only about seven years in the Excise, and of course not eligible to fill the situation of Supervisor — the next step in the ladder of pro- motion. He had, besides, the interest of Sir David Hunter Blair in his favour, which was greatly strengthened in consequence of the Marquis of Queensberry's brother, the friend of Sir David, having been at the time appointed one of the Commissioners of Excise. He was therefore not without influential patronage. . We mention this, by no means in disparagement to Sir Walter Scott, but in justice to our author, to show that in his labours for the " Great Unknown," throughout a period of nearly eigh- teen years, he was actuated by no selfish or mercenary motive — ■ " enthusiastic admiration of his transcendent genius'" alone prompting to the toil. In reply, Mr Train thanked him for his friendly oflTer, stating the position in which he stood. Sir Wal- ter afterwards called on Sir David Hunter Blair, at the Caledo- nian Hunt Club-Rooms in Edinburgh, and, inquiring into the early history of his correspondent, said, on parting, that " having taken him up as his protege^ he would attend to his future ad- vancement." Not lonff after Mr Train was located at Newton Stewart, he fonued an intimacy with Captain James Denniston, author of " Legends of Galloway," and editor of the ancient ballad of Craignilder. In conjunction with this gentleman, he formed the plan of writing a history of ancient Galloway ; and the scheme was so far proceeded in, that printed queries were forwarded to every schoolmaster and parish clerk in the south of Scotland, as Avell as to several literary and antiquarian gentlemen with whom they were acquainted, requesting information on particular sub- jects of inquiry. As the circular was signed by Mr Train, the communications in reply were chiefly addressed to him ; and in this way he added immensely to his knowledge of Gallovidian antiquities. Amongst other things he discovered the Synod 270 JOSEPH TRAIN. Book of Galloway, commencing in 1688 and ending in 171 G, Avliicli had been lost for many years. By the information and assistance of Mr Wilson of Burnbrae, he was enabled to trace the great Roman Wall through Galloway for upwards of sixty miles ; with the aid of Mr Ilettrick of Dalmellington, he also traced the Roman Road from the Doon of Tynron, in Dum- fries-shire, to the town of Ayr. In short, the information accu- mulated relative to the history, antiquities, manners, and customs of the ancient Gallovidians, furnished ample details for the pro- jected work ; but the moment the correspondence with Sir Wal- ter was entered into, he not only persuaded Captain Denniston to abandon the embryo history, but from thenceforth resolved himself on giving up all idea of authorship, determined to devote liis attention to the collection of whatever might be interesting or advantageous to the gifted Baronet. The greater portion of the material collected, after having been digested and extend- ed, found its way to Abbotsford. Some of the communications, however, were sent as they were received ; one, in particular, from Mr Broadfoot, teacher at the Clachan of Peningham — author of the popular song " The Hills of Galloway," and several poems on traditionary subjects — it is perhaps worth mentioning, was signed clashhottom, a professional appellation, derived from the use of the birch. This facetious individual, we understand, was very nearly related to the celebrated " Jedediah of Gander- cleugh ;" and, like him, frequently tasted the mountain dew with the exciseman and the landlord, not in the Wallace Inn at Gan- dercleugh, but at the sign of the " Shoulder of Mutton" in Newton Stewart, being the prototype of his now celebrated name- sake. Among other legendary stories transmitted, Mr Train gave an account of an astrologer who had wandered in the wilds of Gal- loway ; and, as Guy Mannering did not ajjpear for two years afterwards, it was reasonable to suppose that this brief narrative had supplied the groundwork of that inimitable novel. Sir Wal- ter, however, explains in the introduction, that the story was ori- ginally told him by an old servant of his father ; but Lockhart, in his " Life of Scott," has given the whole of the ballad on JOSEPH TRAIN. 271 ■which the romance was founded, as recovered by Mr Train, from the recitation of an old lady in Castle-Donglas, yet alive. As previously mentioned, Mr Train was one of a number of assistant officers despatched to Perth in 1810, for the suppression of illicit distillation, which Avas then carried on in that quarter to a great extent. While engaged in that service, he had been an attentive observer of the working of the excise statutes ; and he conceived that the growing opposition to the law might be greatly obviated by certain salutary alterations in the system. He ac- cordingly drew up an Essay on the subject, but it was not till 1815 that he had an opportunity of placing it before the Board ; when, through the instrumentality of Sir Walter Scott, the manuscript was shown to Mr Earl, one of the Commissioners of the Customs, who highly approved of the view he had taken of the subject. Among other evils of the excise laws, the Essay pointed out the bad effects of what was called the Highland Line^ and of not licensing stills of a less extent than 500 gallons, recommending at the same time the total drawback of the duty on malt used in legal distillation, as the most certain method of putting down the efforts of the Highland smuggler. The Essay not only met the approbation of Mr Earl, but of both the Board of Excise and Customs, accompanied by whose recommendations it was forwarded to the Lords of the Treasury ; and INIr Train had the gratification of seeing his suggestions ultimately become the law of the land. Continuing his researches throughout Galloway, our antiquary was successful in discovering a variety of curious remains. He became possessed of a Roman battle-axe, found in the Moss of Cree ; and the head of a spear, picked up near to Merton Hall, in the parish of Peningham, where the military road passes from Newton Stewart to Glenluce. A razor of peculiar work- manship, found at the Boss Cairn of Dranandow — an immense accumulation of stones on the Moor of Minnigaff — with the word " Paris" on the blade, and bearing to have been manufac- tured in the fifteenth century, also came into his possession ; and indirectly, from a descendant of Rob Roy, he procured an an- tique purse, which had actually belonged to that celebrated free- booter. Havinir been invited to Edinbiirpfh bv Sir Walter. i^72 JOSEPH TRAIN. whom he had not as yet seen, Mr Train set out on his journey for the metropolis in May 1816, carrying with him the splcuchan of Rob Roy, as a relic in which the Baronet w^as likely to be interested. We shall give Mr Train's own account of his recep- tion and entertainment : — " Upon my arrival in town, I was received by Sir Walter in the most friendly man- ner ; he seemed delighted with my gleanings. I found that he had even then begun to collect specimens of ancient armour. He pointed out to me particularly a pair of large old brass spurs, with large rowels — two Andrea Ferraras, with basket hilts — a leathern target, studded with large brass nails — and an Indian coat-of-mail, made of wire rings, wliich articles, I presume, formed in 181G the greater part of that museum which has since become so extensive. The Ettrick Shepherd was in town ; and Sir Walter, upon learning that Ave were not personally acquainted, for the purpose of introducing me to the Bard of Altrive, despatched a servant with a card, inviting him to dinner that day, but he could not be found ; even Blackwood did not know in what part of the town he lodged. I regret- ted this the more, as Sir Walter had had the kindness to invite to his table that day likewise, on my account, the fifth Bard of the Queen's W^ake, who is thus described — ' The fifth was from a western shore, AVhere rolls the dark and sullen Orr ; Of peasant make and doubtful mien. Affecting airs of proud disdain : — Wide curl'd his raven locks and high. Dark was his visage, dark his eye. That glanced around on dames and men, Like falcon on the cliffs of Ken ; Some ruffian mendicant, whose wit Presumed at much, for all unfit ; No one could read the character, If knave, or genius, wit was there ; But all supposed, from mien and frame. From Erin he an exile came. AVith hollow voice and hai-p ill strung. Some bungling parody he sung, AVell known to maid and matron grey Through all the glens of Galloway ; For often had he conn'd it there AVith simpering and affected air. Listen'd the Court, with sidelong bcmi, In wonder how the strain would end ; But long ere that it grew so plain. They scarce from hooting could refrain ; And each to other 'gan to s.ay — " What good can cnmc from Gallou-ai/V^ ' JOSEPH TRAIN. 273 I have often thought since, what a high treat it would have been to see the Galloway Poet placed beside his satirical acquaintance from Ettrick. The impression made on my mind by the picture of the ' bungling bard,' was really nowise relieved by his dogmatic assertions and pretensions during the evening. A pair of ptarmigans at table, which Sir Walter said he had received that day as a present from the North, was a treat to every one present except him from the ' sullen Orr,' who said those birds were as abundant as pigeons in Galloway. Sir Walter smiled, and I made no reply. Wilkie's well-kno^vn picture of Sir Walter and his family had just been received from the hands of the artist. Lady Scott brought it in after dinner ; and Captain Fergusson, Mr Pringle, then editor of Blackwood's Magazine, and another gentleman whose name I have now forgotten, praised the execution of the whole piece ; but the Galloway man, with much effrontery, persisted in saying there was not one correct like- ness in the group. Miss Scott, with much archness, replied, ' Ah ! Mr M*******, I had quite forgotten that you were a painter. I have often heard it said that there is no friendship between persons of the same profession ; but I never had the pleasure of seeing the adage so completely verified before ! ' Lady Scott's face reddened, and her eye glanced seemingly with indignation ; but she left the room without speaking, and did not return again that evening. During the time occupied in examining the pictures, and whilst Miss Scott played some national airs upon the harp, Sir Walter was engaged in his library with Mr Alex- ander Campbell, author of ' Albyn's Anthology,' ' Trying,' as he said, when he re- turned to the drawing-room, ' how some verses composed by him would suit a beauti- ful Gaelic air composed by Mr Campbell. I think the air was — Rimhin alun'' stu'' mo ru?i^, and the words by Sir Walter — The S2ui iqion the Wardknu hill. * * « » Having to leave town next day. Sir Walter said I might rise early and amuse my- self in his library till breakfast, which I accordingly did. His library was then very extensive, but he made large additions to it afterwards. His pictures on canvass then consisted chiefly of a full-length portrait of himself, a fine view of the Island of Stafta, with an original painting of the celebrated Lord Dundee. I was examining this pic- ture with much attention, when Sir Walter entered the room. ' Claverhouse,' said I, ' appears much more mild and gentle than one could suppose from reading the accounts of his actions, as detailed by Wodrow, Cruickshanks, or any other ecclesiastical histo- rian who has treated of the period in whicli he lived.' ' No man,' replied Sir Walter, ' has been more traduced by his historians, by following out the superstitious belief that he rode a goblin Galloway, was proof against shot, and in league with the devil.' I asked Sir Walter, if he might not, in good hands, be made the hero of a national romance, as interesting as either Wallace or the Pretender. ' He might,' was the reply ; ' but your ■western zealots would require to be faithfully portrayed to make the picture complete.' Seeing that the subject pleased Sir Walter, I added, ' and if the story was delivered as if from the mouth of Old Mortality — in a manner somewhat similar to the Lay of the Last Minstrel — it would certainly heighten the effect of the talc.' ' Old Mortality ! man ! who was he?' said Sir Walter hastily, his eye bright- ening at the same time •, and I will never forget the intense anxiety he evinced whilst 1 related briefly all tlie particulars of tliat singular individual I could tlien recol- lect. 2 M 274 JOSEl'H TRAIN. I promised, immediately on ivy return to Gallovvny, to make every possible inquiry respecting him, and to forward the same either to Abhotsford or to Edinburgh, without the least delay. He said he would look most anxiously for my communication ; and he spoke these words so emphatically, as to leave no doubt on my mind that tlic infor- mation required was for the pni^pose of being pulilishcd. At breakfast, again adverting to the Covenanters in the west of Scotland, Sir AV'alter said that great distress had been brought ujjon the inhabitants of Ayrshire, in the year l(J7fi, by the rapaeity of the ' Highland host,' and afterwards by the visionary folly instill- ed by the clergy into the minds of their simple followers. He spoke, too, of the singu- lar charter granted by Robert II. in the year 1378, relating to the Church of St John at Ayr, which I had recently published in a periodical work. He said be had never visited the ancient town of Ayr; but sliould have done so ere tliat time, had I not sent him so much information respecting the landing of Bruce in Canick and the leper establishment at Prestwick, afterwards called King's Case. Neither had he visited Galloway, farther than being once at Gatehouse on professional business ; but he said I had raised his curiosity so much rcsijccting these places, that, if his health jiermitted, he was resolved to take a journey to tliut quarter the following summer, but that he would apprise me beforehand, in order tliat I might accompany him to the most noted places : but he unfortunattly came no farther than Dumfries, being obliged by private business to return to Abhotsford. Sir Walter, Lady Suott, and the younger branches of the family, were all at table. I was the only stranger present. Miss Scott was at that time a lively, intelligent young lady, and seemingly very fond of music. She said she had been pressing her father for some time to make verses to the Gaelic air usually sung by women at the ' ivauking of the doth'' in the Highlands. Sir Walter acknowledged that it was good groundwork for a song, and said that he would at some not far distant period comply with her re- quest ; but I do not remember having since seen any lines or verses by Sir Walter on that subject. The young heir-apparent of Abhotsford was then attending the High School, and it was his custom, when on his way thitlier every morning from Castle Street, to call at the shop of the family baker for a roll of bread. On the preceding day, having re- ceived his accustomed loaf, and leaving the shop with it in his liand, as he was in tlie act of putting it into his pocket, a young tatterdemalion snatched it from him, and ran off. I'pon Charles, the younger brother, relating this story, his mother upbraided Walter in a most jocular manner, for allowing an urchin (wlio, he admitted, was much younger than himself) to take as it were the very bit out of his mouth, without his making any effort to recover it, or to chastise the naughty imp. ' Oh ! mother, he was seemingly very poor, and perhaps hungry. I did not care for the loaf, for I fasted till I came home to dinner.' ' Your motives were perhaps good,' said his father ; ' but it was childish in you, Walter, to punish yourself for the impudence perhaps of a wortlikss individual. However, if you profit as much by losing your loaf, as Franklin did by purchasing his wliistle — The bit ivai better iji\n than eaten, as the old proverb sayo.' The great Spanish wolf-dog, Maida, was in attendance during breakfast, and he did not lack his part. He seemed very mucli attached to Sir Walter, who said he got him in a present from Glengary, wIjo luul then tlie only bjiceinien of that breed in Scotland. As we were thus conversing, a eoaeli arrived to carry Sir Walter to the Court of Ses- JOSEPH TRAIN. 275 sion. At parting, he most kindly invited me to Abbotsford, where he said he liad much more leisure than in Edinburgh. Ladj' Scott afterwards showed me a gold snuff-box, presented by George IV., then Prince Regent, to Sir "Walter. It is of a square form, vith a short inscription on the inside of the lid. Likewise a large silver chalice, presented to him by the Prince of Wales in 1806 ; and a silver flagon of very exquisite workmanship, a present from tlie City of Edinburgh. But my attention was most attracted by the magnificent sepul- chral vase of silver, which Lady Scott said cost £'300, presented by Lord Byron to Sir Walter. It contained several fragments of a human skull, with the letter, which Sir Walter says was afterwards purloined. It was a wretched scrawl, not exceeding, I think, twenty words in length ; but was nevertheless valuable to the legitimate pos- sessor, but could not be so to any other person, even although the theft admitted of being concealed.* Proud of the kind reception I had met \vith in Edinburgh from Sir Walter, I re- turned to Galloway, resolving to use every means in my power to serve him, by col- lecting traditionary stories of every description, but more particularly what related to tlie Covenanters and to Old Mortality." Mr Train, speedily implementing his promise, transmitted an interesting accomit of Old Mortality, and several other matters of value to the Author of Waverley, in return for which Sir Walter, v?riting on the 16th of December 1816, after apologising for not sooner thanking him for " the very curious communica- tions," from which he had derived both instruction and amuse- ment, says — " You will be surprised to find Old Mortality has got into print. As a trifling return for your attention, and pre- suming that the tales will interest you, I send a copy fur your acceptance by the Portpatrick mail. I shall be glad if they afford you some amusement." While in London for a short time in the summer of 1815, Sir Walter became acquainted with the great antiquary, Mr Chal- mers, author of Caledonia, then engaged in preparing the third volume of that work for the press ; and as it was to comprise all the southern and western counties of Scotland, Sir Walter men- tioned the probability of Mr Train being able to assist him in the ancient history of Galloway and Ayrshire, giving him at the same time an account of the " Pict's Kiln"''' and the " Murder Hole," which Mr Train had previously forwarded to Sir Walter. This led to a correspondence with Mr Chalmers, which continued till * Moore's Life of Byron. 270 JOSEPH TRAIN. the death of tliat eminent individual, and was a source of much pleasure to Mr Train, who contributed to his great national work a succinct account of the Roman Post on " the Black Water of Dee,"* near New Galloway — a sketch and description of the Roman Camp at Rispain,i- near Whithorn — and of the Roman ^Vay| from the Doon of Tynron, in Dumfries-shire, to the town of Ayr. Mr Chalmers, unacquainted with these facts, asserted, in his Introduction, that the Romans had never penetrated into Wigtonshire ; but, in the third volume, he took the opportunity of correcting the mistake, and in a letter, dated " Office for Trade, Whitehall, 20th June 1818," compliments Mr Train in the following terms : — " You will enjoy the glory of being the first who has traced the Roman footsteps so far westward into Wigtonshire, and the Roman Road from Dumfries-shire to Ayr town. You have gone far beyond any correspondent of mine in these parts." Mr Train had the merit of tracing another vestige of antiquity, Avhich, if not equal in importance to the Roman Road, involved a great deal more labour and research. This was an old wall, termed " The DeiPs Dyke," mentioned by the minister of Kells, in the appendix to the Statistical Account of Scotland, as an old dyke of extraordinary magnitude, which ran south and north through the parish to the extent often miles. Dr Clapperton of Lochmaben, father of the celebrated traveller of that name, formed the design of tracing the wall ; but he died before he accom- plished his object, and it never was known what progress he had made in the attempt. Though the task demanded much more lei- sure and means than Mr Train could well command, he neverthe- less resolved to undertake it ; and, with an enthusiasm which none but a genuine antiquary could possibly feel, he ultimately suc- ceeded in tracing the dyke from the side of Lochryan, in Wig- tonshire, to Hightae, in the parish of Lochmaben, Dumfries-shire, a distance of nearly eighty miles. In the course of his progress, Mr Train consulted almost every charter of the lands tlirough which the wall passed ; but, as the written land-rights of Gallo- * Caledonia, vol. iii. p. 2-26. f Ibid. p. 354. t Ibid. p. 447. JOSEPH TRAIN. 277 way are cliiefly of a modern date, he obtained no additional in- formation from these documents, and the question of its origin still remains unsettled. Mr Train had commenced his survey of the old wall prior to his becoming acquainted with Mr Chalmers, and it was nearly finished when he communicated the particulars to that gentleman, who had never heard of it before. A number of communications passed between them on the subject. In one of his letters, Mr Chalmers says — " All the late antiquarian discoveiies in the south of Scotland sink into insignificance when compared Tritli the ' DeiPs Dyke ! ' But I ^T^sh you to understand, my good sir, that there are questions which rise out of your communications, which justifies the observation of Mr Hume, that there are questions in history as difficult of solution as any in the sciences, such as the DeiVs Dyke ! Considering all its circumstances, it is extremely difficult to assign its age, its object, or its builders. In Ireland, there is nothing like the Deil's Dyke, the Catrael, and other works of that nature in Scotland. The inference is, that the DeiPs Dyke was not built by Irish hands ; and I am dis- posed to think it is several centuries older than the arrival of the Irish Cruithne or Picts in Galloway. The history of Galloway would of itself, in your hands, supply sufficient materials for the curious pen of history, though it would be subject to the objections which may be formed to all history, that it is less captivating than poetry, and less amusing than the romance, which is so attractive in the hands of our friend Walter Scott, and for which, I am informed, you have supplied many materials. Whitehall, 2-2d A ugiist 1819." This allusion to his coiTcspondence with Sir Walter, Mr Train conceived to be one of the many stratagems adopted to unveil the author of the Waverley Novels, then only known to a very limited circle. In his reply, he of course left the concluding part of the antiquary's letter unanswered. Though his communica- tions to Chalmers were numerous, and some of them very lengthy, it did not interrupt his correspondence with Sir Walter. In a let- ter, dated January 14, 1817, we find the latter thanking Mr Train for his " communications, past, present, and to come," and inti- mating that, as a change had taken place in the Crown Council, a particular friend of his having been appointed Lord Advocate,* he had great hopes of securing his immediate promotion. The necessary infonuation, as to length of service and other particu- * Mr A. Maconochie, now Lord Meadowbauk. 278 JOSEPH TRAIN. lavs, was fonvardcd according to the request of Sir AV alter; but, thougli uo exertion was spared on liis part, it was not for some time afterwards that his repeated applications were successfvd. Amongst other communications to which Sir Walter refers in his letter, was the story of " Sir Ulrick Macwhirter" — a tradition relative to the estate of Blairquhan, afterwards published, as ori- ginally written by Mr Train, in " Chambers*' Picture of Scotland." A copy of this tradition having been sent to Sir David Hunter Blair, the early patron of the author, to whom, as possessor of the estate, it would be no doubt interesting. Sir Walter, apprised of the circumstance, made no use of the tradition, as he said, merely that Sir David might publish it the way most agreeable to himself, who accordingly caused the story to be sent to Mr Robert Chambers. Another interesting document forwarded to Sir Walter about this period, was an old manuscript history of the Stewart family of Invernahyle, which had been picked up by Dr Thomson of New- ton Stewart, while practising as a surgeon in the district of Appin. It contained an account of " Donald Na Nord, the Hammerer,"''' with which Sir Walter was greatly pleased. In " Letters from a Gentleman in the North of Scotland to his friend in London," edited by R. Jamieson, and published in 1822, it appeared for the first time as a contribution from Sir Walter Scott ; and sub- sequently, in the second series of " Tales of a Grandfather," the Life of Donald the Hammerer was given in a condensed form. Writing to Mr Train on the 22d February 1817, Sir Walter says — " I am much obliged by your continued and kind commu- nications. That on the subject of the Invernahyle family, I am particularly interested in ; for Alexander Stewart, with whom the pedigree concludes, was my father"'s intimate friend ; and, as I was very fond of his society while a boy, and of listening to his old stories, 1 have still in my recollection no small stock of legen- dary lore, derived from that source, and always think of his me- mory with peculiar fondness. * * * * Pray, secure me as many Galloway traditions as you can, for they are most interest- ing. Were I as poetical as I liave been, I would certainly weave the tale of Plunton into verse." Sir Walter afterwards founded JOSEPH TRAIN. 279 the melodrama of " The Doom of Devorgoil" on this story,* Avhich was originally obtained from Captain Denniston, and for- warded in the handwriting of that gentleman . -f- Another remnant of antiquity afterwards fell into the hands of ISIr Train, which Avas greatly prized by Sir Walter Scott. This was the ancient granite weapon called a Celt. It was found in the Moor of Knockbrax, in the parish of Peningham, about eight feet below the surface. On acquainting the author of Caledonia with the particulars of the discovery, he wrote as follows in re- ply : — " I have seen only one Celt discovered in Ireland ; but there have been several found in England, and even in Scotland. From this and other circumstances, I am inclined to infer that the settlement in Ireland is much later than that in Britain, what- ever General Valiancy may say." Our author's next visit to Edinburgh occurred in 1817, at which period he remained about a week, and was almost a con- stant ofuest at " Old 39" North Castle Street. On meeting. Sir Walter, not having seen him subsequently to the publication of " Old Mortality," spoke freely on the subject of that novel, and of the fate of Supervisor Kennedy, as recorded in " Guy Mannering." Amongst other guests at the table, he one day met the late Sir Alexander Boswell, who, on that occasion, pre- sented Sir Walter with a thin 4to volume, which he said had been " written, printed, and bound by himself." The poem was en- titled the " Flitting of the Sow," founded on an Ayrshire tra- dition. In the spring of 1818, Mr Train sent Sir Walter the ladle of the last resident hangman in Dumfries, with an account of the manner of using it, as described in the 13th volume of the Wa- verlev Novels: and shortly afterwards he furnished a sketch of " Feckless Fanny," the prototype of Madge Wildfire, gleaned from the recollection of old people in various parts of the coun- * See Lockhart's 'Memoiis of the Life of Sir "Walter Scott, vol. iv. cap. 11. t In s. letter to Torry, Sir Walter says, " the story admits of the highest degree of ilecoratiori, both by poetry, music, and scenery." The scene of tlie tale is laid at Linuc.t Plimton, the jjrojierty of A. Murr.iy, Esq. of Broughton, member of P;uli:i- liamont f"r Kirlc people of Saint Planning firmly believe that the image is still in their neigh- bourhood, and are strengtlicned in their opinion, as they say, by the thriving appearance of tlie supposed possessors of the venerable relic." From Kirkintilloch, Mr Train was removed to Queensferry in June 1822. Here he was equally alert in the service of Sir Wal- ter, having, besides several remains of antiquity, transmitted him a very amusing account of the annual " riding of the marches'" by the freemen of Linlithgow. While in this district, he became possessed of a curious object of natural history. Mr Struthers, proprietor of a brick manufactory at Blackness, but who lived at Linlithgow, happening to be astir one summer morning pretty early, met a drum-boy proceeding from the Palace towards the guard-house, with what appeared to him to be a bird's nest in his hand. Stepping up to see what it contained, he found six eggs in it, one of which Avas broken. To his surprise, the nest and eggs appeared to be all of marble, but retaining their original shape and colour. The drummer said, that being on guard, and feeling himself drowsy at daybreak, he went to the Palace to amuse himself; and, finding his way in, he discovered the nest in one of the recesses of the wall, in that part of the Palace * Written in 1822. JOSEPH TRAIN. 283 called Queen Mary's Chambers. Mr Struthers made a purchase of the curiosity for a trifle, and the " Palace nest," as it was afterwards termed, soon became an object of much investigation. It was not, as at first supposed, a petrifaction, but an encrust- ment of calcareous earth and sand, and deemed most likely to have been brought to the Palace as a curiosity, where it liad evidently escaped the conflagration of the building by the soldiers of Oliver Cromwell. This conjecture was strengthened by the circumstance of the one side of it being blackened apparently by smoke. As the district of South Queensferry extended to within three miles of Edinburgh, Mr Train had frequent opportunities of call- ing on Sir Walter. At his request, he set about collecting in- formation respecting the manners, customs, traditions, and super- stitions of the fishermen of Buckhaven, and, in doing so, first gave Sir Walter a description of the Hailly Hoo^ a superstition alluded to in Quentin Durward. In consequence of the cessation of the duty on salt, Mr Train was removed, in January 1823, to Falkirk. Here he became acquainted with Joseph Stainton, Esq., one of the proprietors and sole conductor of the work at Carron, from whom, before his death, he obtained the stock-bow of Sir John the Graeme, who fell at the battle of Falkirk in 1298. From Mr Stainton he received various other interesting relics. These, together with two drinking quaighs — the one made of a portion of Wallace*'s Tree in the Torwood ; the other, of the yew planted above the grave of the gallant Graeme — he presented to Sir Walter, M'ho seemed highly gratified with this renewed instance of the Super- visor's zeal. Well aware that the business of a supervisor is one of almost unremitting drudgery. Sir Walter endeavoured to procure the advance of Mr Train to the rank of General Surveyor or Collec- tor. With this view he applied to the Prime Minister of the day, and communicated the result in the following letter : — " TO MR .JOSEPH TRAIN. Dear Mr Train, I liave received two very kind letters from Lord Liverpool and Mr Peel, oil the suV)ject of vour promotion. It scrms tlie appointment lies with the Board of 284 JOSEPH TRAIN. I'^xcise, not with the Treasury ', but tbey liave recommended you to Mr Lushingtou, wiiich one would think would be sufficient from their natural high influence. I remain, Dear Mr Train, Your obedient servant, (Signed) "Walter Scott. Edinburgli, 2M June 1824." Unfortunately for Mr Train, the Excise in Scotland had been placed under the control of the London Commissioners in the beginning of 1824, at which period Englishmen exclusively were appointed to the higher stations, and a system of unprincipled per- secution ensued, which left few of the former superior officers on the list. Mr Train did not altogether escape the danger of being swept away by the inundation of expectants from the southern side of the border, who went about everv where endeavouring to fix charges of misconduct on the officers. One of these individ- uals, with the help of a crowbar, succeeded in wresting off the fastening of a distillery utensil in ^Ir Train's district ; and though the latter proved, to the satisfaction of the Board, that it was not defective, he was nevertheless removed to the Wigton district, " not," as his friend Commissioner Cornwall informed him, " for any neglect on his part, but for being so plain in his defence, which courtesy to the strangers required to be marked by the dis- pleasure of the Board ! " Such was the degraded state to which the change of 3824 reduced the officials of the Scottish Excise. Soon after this, on a vacancy occurring in the Dumfries station, Mr Train was transferred to that district on his own application. In 1825, a paragraph having appeared in the " Paisley Adver- tiser," containing some facts relative to the correspondence between Sir Walter and Mr Train, the object of which was to fix the authorship of the Waverley Novels on Sir Walter, Mr Train felt it necessary to undertake a journey to Abbotsford, in order to justify himself from all suspicion of a breach of confidence. He found Sir Walter exceedingly indifferent on the subject. The Baronet was in Dublin when he first observed the article alluded to in a Paris newspaper, and his only surprise was, how it had found its way there before he had seen it in the English journals. On JOSEPH TRAIN. 285 this occasion he presented Sir Walter with the head of an Uris, an Andrea Ferrara said to have belonged to the famous Laird of Lagg, and several other antiquities. On the way to Abbotsford, by INIount Benger, Mr Train first became personally acquainted with the Ettrick Shepherd, with whom, on his return, he again met at Lamington fair, where a party of strolling players were to enact the Brownie of Bodsbeck in a barn, at which the Shepherd seemed much pleased. Mr Train again visited Sir Walter at Edinburgh in the spring of the following year, when he related to him at table the story of a Fifeshire Surgeon's Daughter, with which his host was greatly pleased. This formed the nucleus of the much-admired tale bearing that name in the " Chronicles of the Canongate ;" and Mr Train was no doubt gratified to observe the honourable men- tion made of his name in the introduction to that work. It was natural, perhaps, to suppose that a person of literary habits like Mr Train, might not be so zealous in the discharge of his excise duties as others who had no such taste to abstract their attention. An idea of this kind seems to have influenced the Secretary to the Board — a petty tyrant of the name of Pape, who held the situation for about seven years. A person in the coast guard, who went disguised for the purpose, having discover- ed that the toll-keeper of Sark Bridge toll-bar,' about twenty-six miles from Dumfries, sold whisky privately without a license, Mr Train was reduced for a time from the rank of Supervisor ; his crime being that of allowing a person of a different establishment to come into his district, and detect what should have been dis- covered by himself or some of his officers. Considering the na- ture of the offence — the distance of the toll-bar from his residence — and the previous service of Mr Train — the suspension must be considered as unjustifiably severe. At the end of six months, however, he was restored to his former rank, and appointed to Castle-Douglas district, in the room of Mr Robert Porteous, one of the most efficient supervisors in the service of the Excise, who also became a victim of the notorious Pape. Here Mr Train has since resided, and for nine years performed the laborious duties of his avocation, without the slightest cen- 286 JOSEPH TRAIN. sure from tlie Board. Notwithstanding the fatiguing nature of his business, Mr Train contrived to devote considerable attention to his favourite researches, and to continue his correspondence with Sir Walter. The first of his letters from this district is dated November 1827: — " Sib, I }iave learned that there is in the possession of the Glover Incorporation of Perth a peculiarly fantastic garb, that was formerly worn by ono of the Morrice- Dancers in all their public processions. The first public exhibition of it was made before one of our kings on a platform erected on the Tay, near Perth, when the river was frozen over, on which occasion his majesty was so much pleased that lie conferred particular marks of favour on the Corporation, which they enjoy to this day. This antique consists of stout fawn-coloured silk cloth, with trappings of red and green satin, richly flowered, and is so fashioned-iis to cover the legs and arms of the wearer, over which parts of the body are buckled buff or chamois leather strops, with twenty-one small bells affixed to each. My informant thinks the bells amount to at least 250, each having a different tone. There is likewise a cap made of the same materials, in the form of a cone, covered with a kind of network of leather thongs, the ends of which hang around the wearer's neck and shoulder ; and on the end of the thong is fixed a large nutshell, intended to rattle as the person walks or moves his head. The last wearer of this fantastic liabiliment was the present Lord Lynedoch, who frequently paraded the streets of Perth in it, as a recruiting officer, about the com- mencement of the last war, when raising the 90th regiment of foot." On the hint thus furnished regarding the old Morrice-Dancers, Sir Walter improved with his usual ability in the " Fair Maid of Perth," where the peculiarities of that class of mountebanks are graphically portrayed. The " Wild Man of Dinwiddie Green,'' the " Fire Raid," and " Kimstrie's Willie," were among the traditions forwarded by Mr Train during his stay at Dumfries. Sir Walter having intimated his intention of publishing a new edition of his Novels and Romances, from Waverley to Wood- stock, with an introduction and notes, Mr Train eagerly set about collecting the desired information ; and, in the course of a few weeks, forwarded to Abbotsford an account of Skipper Haw- kins, the prototype of Dirk Hetterick, and Flora Marshall, the supposed original of Meg Merrilees ; also an miecdote of Willie Marshall, King of the western gypsies— all of which were in- serted in the fourth volume of the series. The additional account JOSEPH TRAIN. 287 of Old Mortality, and the sketch of Cooper Clyment, in volume ix. pp. 227, 228, were also sent about the same time. In ac- knowledgment of these favours, Sir Walter, on the 17th April 1829, wrote as follows : — " My Dear Train, Your valuable communication arrived in clipping-time, and adds highly to the obligations which your kindness has so often conferred on me. I shall hardly ven- ture to mention the extraordinary conne.vioii between the Bonaparte family and that of Old Mortality, till I learn from you how it is made out ; whether by continued acknow- ledgment and correspondence between the families of the two brothers, or otherwise. A strain of genius (too highly toned in the old patriarch) seems to have run through the whole family. The minister of Galashiels is a clever man, and so is his brother. What a pity Old Mortality's grave cannot be discovered ! I would cer- tainly erect a monument to his memory at my own expense." The greater portion of Sir Walter''s letter is devoted to the subject of Mr Train''s promotion, which he seems never to have lost sight of, though, as we have seen, his exertions were not al- ways crowned with success. In reply, Mr Train stated that he had been prevented from answering his kind letter sooner, Mr Paterson not having drawn up the account of his family so early as promised. " I thought it would be more satisfactory to you," adds Mr Train, " to have an account of his relations in America, written by himself, than any thing I could say on the subject. Although you will see that what is stated in the inclosed commu- nication does not amount to positive proof of the Queen of Westphalia's father being the son of Old Mortality, I for my own part have no doubt that he was,*" The document here re- ferred to, furnished by Robert Paterson, Dairy, Kirkcudbright- shire, son of Old Mortality, then in his seventy-fifth year, and who is yet alive, gives a distinct account of his brother, John, sailing in a vessel called " The Golden Rule of Whitehaven," from the Water of Cree, in Galloway, for America in the year 1774 — of his making a considerable fortune during the American War — and of his afterwards settling at Baltimore, where he im- proved his fortune, married, and became highly respectable. He had a son named Robert, after Old Mortality, his father, and a daughter named Elizabeth, after his mother, whose maiden name was Grey. Robert married an American lady, who, outliving 288 JOSEPH TRAIN. him, has become Marchioness of Welleslcy. Elizabeth was mar- ried to Jerome Bonaparte, and after her separation from liim wedded Monsieur Serrurier, the French consul at Baltimore, Extraordinary as these circumstances may appear, Sir Walter was convinced of the truth of the statement, and declined publishing it solely in deference to the Duke of Wellington. The next communication from Sir Walter was a letter of in- troduction, brought by Mr Skene of Rubislaw, on a visit to the Galloway coast for the purpose of taking a few sketches of local scenery. On his return to Edinburgh, ISIr Skene recommended Mr Train to the Society of Scottish Antiquaries, by whom he was admitted an honorary member at their meeting in November 1829. Having obtained from Sir Walter a copy of Waldron's His- tory of the Isle of Man, a very scarce and curious work, Mr Train, many years ago, conceived the idea of writing a history of that Island. In the course of his researches for material, a manuscript volume fell accidentally into his hands, containing 108 Acts of the Manx Legislature prior to the accession of the Athole family to the kingdom, and which he had reason to suppose had been kept in Castle Ilushen from 1422 to 1703. As this volume con- tained much curious information, Mr Train forwarded a transcript of it to Abbotsford, together with several Manx traditions, and extracts from various records kept of the trial and death of Chris- tian. From a metrical history of the Isle of Man, written in the Manx language about the commencement of the sixteenth century, and which Mr Train got translated for the first time in 1828, he extracted an account of the furious inroad made into the stewartry of Kirkcudbright, as described in Peveril of the Peak, by Earl Derby, of the Golden Crupper — a circumstance overlooked by all our historians — which was also transmitted to Sir Walter. About the same period, he forwarded a curious brass visor, found in a morass at Torrs, in the parish of Kelton. From the odd form of this antique, having horns projecting from the place where the eyeholes should have been, and which turned back like those of a goat, it was supposed to be the head-mask of a mummer, probably belonging to the neighbouring Castle of Threave. In reply to various traditionary gleanings communicated about JOSEPH TRAIN. 289 the same period, Sir Walter writes — " Your account of the three Great Punch Bowls is very entertaining,* and your historical sketch of the Siller Guns kept at Dumfries and Kirkcudbright, as illus- trative of the ancient custom of weapon-shawing, shows more research, and is more interesting, than Mayne's poem on the one kept at Dumfries ; but I cannot see a peg to hang that communi- cation on, and am sorry I cannot now find a corner for your an- cient protec/e, Mons Meg^ of loud reputation. You know I have already spoken of her pedigree ; but fortunately I have not done so in a positive manner, as you have traced her propinquity so clearly, as henceforth to set all conjecture aside.'' The very interesting account of this celebrated piece of ord- nance, now an object of much curiosity to all who visit the Castle of Edinburgh, is as follows : — " It is well known that every chieftain from the Clyde to the Nith was held in the most grievous subjection hy the powerful family of Douglas, while Lord of Galloway. On an islet of the Dee, of twenty statute acres, stand the ruins of the Castle of Threave, which they held as the place of their pride, and used as the engine of their tyranny. Projecting from the front wall, immediately over the main gateway, is a granite block, still called the ' Gallows Knob' or ' Hanging Stane.' A vassal sus- pended by the neck from the stone, of which many talcs of terror are still related, was considered such an evidence of power, that William Earl of Douglas, in asserting his superiority over all the other nobles of the district, boasted haughtily to the Baron of Terregles, at the commencement of their well-known feud in 1452, that the Gallows Knob of Threave had not been without a tassel for the last fifty years, whereas the little fortlet of Herries, in common with the dwelling-places of all the other petty chieftains of Galloway, was but occasionally decked with a dangling villain. Sir Patrick M'Lellan, Tutor of Bomby, the chief of a powerful clan which then possessed the peninsula bounded by the Solway and the Dee, taking part with his kins- man Herries, Baron of Terregles, against Douglas, so excited the indignation of their oppressor, that be, thirsting for revenge, commenced open hostility, took the Castle of Raeberry, seized M'Lellan, and carried him prisoner to Threave, where he caused him to be hanged on the Gallows Knob, although he was Sheriff of Galloway. + * Formerly every burgh of Scotland had a Wassail Bowl, generally of very capa- cious dimensions, presented by the various Commissioners of Parliament. That of Kirkcudbright was given to tlsc incoqjor.itcJ trades by M'Lellan of Bomby ; and, according to tradition, was first filled in public at the entertainment given to King James V. by the inhabitants of Kirkcudbright in March 1508. It is built like a tub, with wooden staves, about thirty in number, with hoops and a rim of brass, and was made to hold one anker, which is equal to nine imperial gallons. f See Caledonia, vol, iii. p. 269. •2 o 290 JOSEPH TRAIN. Go;icndix, Note K-; This is the same gentleman whose 304 JOSEPH TRAIN. friendly assistance is so often acknowledged in the Notes and Introductions of the Wavcrlcy Novels."]— .Vofc by the Editor, pp. 196, 197. " The same obliging correspondent, whom I have (nioted in the preceding note, gives me the following accoimt of the jircsent state of tlic ruins of Turnberry.'' — p. 199. " It is generally known that Bruce, in consequence of his distresses after the battle of Mcthvcn, was affected by a scorbutic disorder, which was called a leprosy. It is said he ex])erienced benefit from the use of a medicinal spring, about a mile north of tlie town of AjT, called from tliat circumstance King's Ease.* The following is the tiadition of the country, collected by Mr Train." [* Sir Walter Scott had mis-read IMr Train's MS., which gave not Kiny''s Ease, but Kim/s Case., i. e. Cusa Regis, the name of the Royal foundation described below. Mr Train's kindness enables tlie Editor to make tliis correction, 1833." — Note by the Editor. '\ — Sir Walter Scotfs Poetical Works, vol. x. p. 329. LOCKHART'S LIFE OF SIR WALTER SCOTT. Vol. III. Pp. 3()G, 307, — Mr Lockhart describes the circumstance of Mr Train's becoming acquainted \\\t\\ Sir Walter. P. 308, — Refers to Mr Train's contributions to the museum at Abbotsford. P. 309, — Mr Train's anecdotes concerning the Galloway Gipsies, and the local story of the Astrologer, on which Sir Walter founded the Novel of Guy Mannering. P. 310, — Describes the information with which Mr Train furnished Sir Walter when lie was about to compose the Lord of the Isles. Pp. 315, 316, — Farther information respecting the Lord of the Isles and the Gallo- way Astrologer. P. 405, — Ballad of the Astrologer on which Guy Mannering is founded. Vol. IV. P. 37, — Mr Train's communications made use of in the Tales of my Landlord. P. 38, — Describes Mr Train's first interview with Sir Walter, after which Mr Lock- hart says — " To this intercourse wilh Afr Train we oive the icJioh machinery of the Tales of my Landlord, as zvell as tlie adoption of Claverliouse' s period for tlie scene of some of its first fictions. I think it highly probable that we owe a farther obligation to the worthy Supervisor's presentation of Rob Roy's spleuchan.''^ P. 52, — Refers to the story of the Baron of Plunton, on which the melodrama of the Doom of Devorgoil is founded. An outline of this story is given in a letter ad- dressed to Daniel Terry, conimencing p. 53. Vol. V. Pp. 52C, 527, — Description of the Chair which Mr Train presented to Sir Walter Scott. Vol. VII. P. 21, — RefciTing to the twenty persons who were in the secret of the Waverley Novels, previous to. the catastrophe of 1826, Mr Lockhart says — " I am by no means sure that I can give a correct list, but, in addition to the members of Sir Walter's own family, there were, Constable, Cadell, the two Ballantynes, Terry, Laidlaw, Mr Train, Charles Duke of Burrleufli," &c. SIR ALEXANDER BOS WELL. oC5 SIR ALEXANDER BOS WELL, Bart., OF AUCHINLECK. It is ratlier surprising that none of the literary friends of the late Sir Alexander Boswell have as yet attempted a collection of his writings. Several of his lyrical effusions have been long- popular ; and he was known to devote no inconsiderable portion of his leisure hours to pursuits of a more erudite description than the occasional cultivation of the muse. It is chiefly in relation to his character as a Poet, however, that he falls within the scope of the present work ; yet, limited as the task thus naturally be- comes, we are not sure that we possess materials for the proper execution of more than a brief outline of his literary character or history. Indeed, without access to the cabinet of the late Baro- net, it would be impossible to do that justice to his reputation which some future and more favoured biographer may have the gratification of performing. The family of the Boswells is of considerable antiquity in this country, tracing as it does its Norman origin to the days of William the Conqueror. The lands of Balmuto, in Fife, were ac- quired by Roger de Boswell, or Bosville, in the reign of David I., and it is from this stock that the Auchinleck branch proceeds. Thomas, second son of the eleventh inheritor of Balmuto, having become attached to the Court of James IV., obtained from that monarch the lands of Auchinleck, previously in possession of a flimily of the " same name with the lands, but which had be- come forfeited to the crown."* Thomas, who married a daughter of Sir Hew Campbell of Loudoun, was " slain in battle, fighting alon"- with his sovereign at the fatal field of Flodden.'"' Alexander Boswell, the subject of our memoir, was born on * Boswcll's Life of .Toliuson. Tlic I^ainl of Aufliiiilcck (of that Ilk) is inontiont'd ill tlic wars of Sir Willi:im \ValJ;icc, as onr nf tlic r(iiii]).'iiiions in arms of the Scottish patriot. 2q 306 SIR ALEXANDER BOSWELL. the 9th of October 1775. He was tlic eldest son of the well- known biographer of Dr Johnson, and grandson of Lord Auch- inleck,* one of the Senators of the College of Justice, His mother, a daughter of Sir Walter Montgomery, Bart, of Lain- shaw,-f- was a Avoman in several respects the very opposite of his father, possessing a warmth of feeling and a soundness of judg- ment which at once rendered her manner dimiified and afrreeable.t Alexander, together with his only brotlier James, w^s educated in England, first at Westminster School and afterwards at the University of Oxford ; and, on the death of his father in 1795, succeeded, ere he had completed his twentieth year, to the pater- nal estate. Having made a tour of Europe about that period, he subsequently resided chiefly at Auchinleck, and was early distin- guished in the county of Ayr as a gentleman of much spirit, warmth of heart, and public enterprise. In his character may be said to have been combined the best qualities of his father, with- out his frivolities. Together with a large share of the genius, he inherited his fondness for literature ; and, amid the accumulated stores of the " Auchinleck Library" — one of the most valuable private collections in the country — he had ample opportunity of ■* On the authority of Sir Walter Scott, Jlr Croker gives the followng characteris- tic anecdote of this eminent lawyer, who appears to have looked upon Dr Johnson and some of the other companions of liis son with contempt : — " Old Lord Auchinleck was an able lawyer and good scholar, after the manner of Scotland, and highly valued, on his own advantages, as a man of good estate and ancient family ; and, moreover, as he was a strict Presbyterian, and a Whig of tlie old Scottish cast. This did not pre- vent his being a terrible proud aristocrat ; and great was the contempt he entertained and expressed for his son .James, for the nature of his friendships, and the character of the personages of whom he was engoue one after another. ' There's nae hope for Jamie, man,' he said to a friend ; ' Jamie has gaen clean gyte. What do you think, man, he's done wi' Paoli ? He's aff \vi' the land-lonping scoundrel of a Corsican ; and whose tail do you think he has pinned himsel' to now, man ?' Here the old judge summed up, with a sneer of most sovereign contempt — ' a dominie, man — an auld dominie ; lie keeped a schtde and called it an academy !^ " '\- This property was purchased by William Cunninghanie, father of the present pos- sessor, from Sir Walter, in 1779. X Mrs Boswell was not without a vein of pleasantry, sarcastic or otherwise, as occa- sion dictated. In allusion to the influence of Johnson over her husband, she one day remarked, wliile the Doctor sojourned at Aucliinleck, that " she had seen many a bear led by a man, but had never before seen a man led by a bear." 'i SIR ALEXANDER BOSWELL. 307 gratifying his taste for antiquarian research. The muse, however, seems to have early claimed his attention ; and though unwilling perhaps publicly to commit himself as a Poet, his efforts in that way were well known in the circle of his acquaintances. He was a warm admirer of Burns, and to this feeling perhaps we owe several Scottish songs from his pen, scarcely less national and popular than those of Coila''s Bard himself. Among these may be mentioned " Jenny''s Bawbee :" — " I met four cliiels you birks amang, Wi' hanging lugs aud faces lang : I spierM at neighbour Bauldy Strang, What are they — these we see ? Quoth he, ilk cream-faced pauky chiel Thinks himsel' cunnin' as the deil, And here they cam' awa' to steal Jenny's bawbee." The idea of this song, as observed by Allan Cunningham, was probably suggested to Sir Alexander by the following lines of an old fragment, familiar to most Scottish ears : — " An' a' that e'er my Jenny had, My Jenny had, my Jenny had; A' that e'er my Jenny had, Was ae bawbee. There's your plack and my phick, An' your plack and my plack, An' my plack and your plack, An' Jenny's bawbee." But, though indebted to an old rhyme for the air and " o'erword," as Burns was in some of the most delightful of his Ij'rics, the song is in every other feature original. The group of lovers whom lie represents as in search of " Jenny's Bawbee," are entirely his own, and so characteristic as not to admit of doubt that they are real portraits.* We have heard it stated that the heroine who figures under the homely designation of " Jenny," Avas no less a * In a note to this song, first publislicd by the autlior in 1803, Sir Alexander gave the following explanation : — " As this song has been very unfairly interpreted, the author takes this opportunity of unequivocally disavowing any allusion to individuals. Let tlie blame rest witli those who applied it, and tliose who felt tlic ajiplication." 308 SIR ALEXANDER DUSWELL. personage than the late Mrs Dunlop of Dunlop. " Aukl Gude- luan, ye're a Drucken Carle" is another well-known song by Sir Alexander; and the following version of " Jenny Dang the AV^eaver,'" is also the offspring of his muse : — " At ^Villif's wedding o' tlie grccii, The lasses, boiinio wtclics, AVerc Luskcd out in :ij)ioiis clean, And siiaw-wliitc Sunday iiiutclics. Auld Mjsie ba The Marchesina's grace and air, And set your heart on British stud', ; For surely they're quite good enough. So — savoury be each well-cook 'd dish ! j If ought avails the minstrel's wish. j L'ARGUMENT PROSAIQUE. The Camperdown coach stops to water the horses in a village, at M'Lellan's door, publican and butcher — Sir Albon jumps out, mounts a hack — canters up the causeway — passes the door of the Clerk of the Roads — sees the light of Muirkirk Ironworks — passes Kinzencleugh and Ballochmyle, and arrives at the How-foord. Distance, one mile — time, six minutes. SIR ALBON. Swift o'er heav'n's arch the streamers ran, Wliile slowly moved the caravan. Sudden, unhid, the leaders stood Before thy gate, O man of blood ! If ought did there the curb branch ply, 'Twas hand unseen by mortal eye ; If ought did esse and crochet * strain, 'Twas hand unhallow'd drew the rein. Swift to his steed Sir Albon sprung. Beneath his feet the trap-stone + rung ; For rapid was the courser's stioke. And ev'ry wight whose sleep it broke, By sudden start on elbow raised, Breathed a half-stifled ' Gude be PR.ilsED." Quicker than cloth -yard arrow's flight De Wodrow's mansion pass'd Sir Knight, And quicker than the drum-boy's ruff His horse-hoofs clattcr'd hard and lough. * Ji^sse and Crochet, terms in the menage for the ends of the curb chain, t Trap-stone — whinstonc. 316 SIR ALEXANDER BOSWELL. Dc Wodrow ! though it mar my talc, To sing of thee can minstrel fail ? For clerk he was, if clerk there bo, Though little skill'd in minstrelsy, And less I wot in chivalry ; But I may say, in sooth, he knew The magic powers of two and two. And four the wonderful result ; And though in head no catapult To hatter logic's ramparts down. Yet he might challenge fair renown ; For well he conn'd the mystic page Of Cocker and of Dilworth sage ; His cap could doff, his cap could don. But to our tale — Sir Knight prick'd on. No light had he to cheer his way. Fled were the sunny joys of day, And not as yet the silv'ry moon To wayworn pilgrim gave the boon ; Far in the east she linger'd still. Behind Cairntable's pointed liill. Or Tintoc brown, or Corsincone, Whilst Albon, dauntless, rode alone. No faintly glimm'ring aid, to mark Each image in the poring dark. Save when the well-wrought bars of steel Which clad his trusty horse's heel, Drew from a stone the transient light • Which brightest shines in darkest night : For, like that emblematic form Which led to Salem's tow'rs the storm, (And shall a Christian minstrel tell The triumphs of the infidel ?) The horseshoe, fitted to defend, Like that bright moon in turn and bend, Of shape and hght both emulous, Scatters its light most marvellous. Far on the circle of the sky Sir Knight a gleaming light did spy ; So vivid was its meteor gleam. That to some wights it well might seem The moon herself should shortly rise. Not so in brave Sir Albon's eyes ; For well he wist this lurid glare Burst from the source of classic Ayr, SIR ALEXANDER BOSWELL. Where, 'midst the bleak and barren wild, With Erebus' o\\ti hue defiled, The sons of Vulcan at the forge Their midnight massive hammers urge. Fast and more fast his fleet horse flew. When sudden darting on his view A lonely light, that twinkled still. The mansion markM of Dame M'****. Its turrets mock'd bis straining gaze ; But then he thought on ancient days, When lady fair was in her prime. Fit theme for youthful minstrel's rhyme ; Then bow'd to her on bended knee The Laird of hazel-clad G******. Long, long, are all her suitors fled. Her beauty's fallen, wither'd, dead ! On, on he spurr'd, and pass'd the while Old Kinzencleugh, and Ballochmyle In song renown 'd, and then anon Was full in front of Willoxton. On that proud rock a castle stood, And frown'd upon the raging flood ; But how and when that castle fell I may not think, I may not tell. The flames bore ev'ry trace away ; But whence those flames I may not say. Now on its shrivell'd stunted oak Blood-sated ravens daily croak ; With gory beak and talons foul, There nightly screams a boding owl. Sir Albon pass'd the rock below ; He heard the river's sullen flow. And high in air portentous sound In undulations hovor'd round But ever, as in time of need, Sir Albon onward prick'd his steed. THE BENISON; OR, P.P.C. And now, why farther swell my tome ? Suffice it, Albon cantcr'd homo. \Vhat recks it in my simple tale, That Albon supp'd and swallow'd ale ; Or, tired with travel and alone. Placed on his pate a cotton cone. And one of tin on candle's head, Then, peering, groped the way to bed ? 317 318 SIR ALEXANDER BOSWELL. But, reader, ere we part, adieu ! For I would part in peace with you. Take my potluck, 'tis good hotchpotch, A mess of Anglo-Gallic Scotch ; And if this sells, us sell it must, I soon shall touch, again, your dust. With wondrous speed, as I'm a sinner, I'll knock you up another dinner ; For thoughts fall quick from fertile brain, Like bright prismatic show'rs of rain — And I can write, with ready pen. For gentle maids and gentle men. Though poor the measures from my reed, Still poorer is your minstrel's meed : I ask but half-a-crown a line. The Song be your's, the Disk* be mine. In 1812, Sir Alexander gave to the world a fac-simile edition of the disputation between John Knox and Quentin Kennedy, at Maybole, in 1562 — the only original copy of which then known to exist, was deposited in the paternal library at Auchinleck. -f About the same period, he established a small printing-office at Auchinleck-House, from which he issued a variety of curious and interesting works, chiefly reprints of scarce and valuable tracts, for private circulation amongst his friends. Much of the hon. Baronet*'s time was in consequence occupied in performing the drudgery of revising and correcting the press. The first we have seen of the poetical productions printed at Auchinleck, is " The Tyrant's Fall,*" % '^^I'itten immediately after the battle of Water- loo, in which he thus bewails the fate of his friend Lieut.-Colonel Miller, son of the venerable Lord Glenlee : — " Amidst the brave, whose fall bequcathVl For Britain's pride a theme so vast ; Shall not a sorrowing sigh be breathed For thee — a soldier to the last ? Thee, Miller ! lost, lamented friend ! Whose breast a patriot spirit fired ; * Generally applied to a planet, but here to a half-crown piece. •f- Since then another copy has been discovered. Sir Alexander also published an " Orationo of Quentin Kennedy," and " Memoriall of the Lyfe of Dr James Spottis- wood. Bishop of Clogher," both from original MSS. Constable was the publisher. + Auchinleck : Printed by A. and J. Boswell, 1815, SIR ALEXANDER BOSWELL. 319 Yes, o'er thy honour' d tomb we bend — In life beloved, in death admired." In 1816, Sir Alexander printed at the Auchinleck press a few copies of a poem written by himself, entitled " Skeldon Haughs, or the Sow is Flitted," a tale in rhyme, founded on an Ayrshire tradition of the fifteenth century. Not having seen the piece, we take the following account of it from the Scottish Biographical Dictionary, in which a brief memoir of Sir Alexander Boswell is given : — " Kennedy of Bargeny tethered a sow on the lands of his feudal enemy, Crawford of Kerse, and resolved that the latter gen- tleman, with all his vassals, should not be permitted to remove or ' flit' the animal. To defeat this bravado at the very first, the adherents of Crawford assembled in great force, and entered into active fight with the Kennedies, who, with their sow, were at length driven back with great slaughter, though not till the son of the Laird of Kerse, who had led his father*'s forces, was slain. The point of the poem lies in the dialogue which passed between the old man and a messenger who came to apprise him of the event : — " ' Is the sow flitted ? tell me, loon ! Is auld Kyle up and Carrick down ? ' ^Tingled wi' sobs, his broken tale The youth began : ah, Kerse, bewail This luckless day ! — Your blythe son John, Ah, waes my heart, lies on the loan — And he could sing like ony merle ! ' Is the sow flitted?' cried the carle ; ' Gie me my answer — short and plain — Is the sow flitted ? yammerin' wean !' ' The sow (deil tak' her) 's owre the water, And at their backs the Crawfords batter — Tlie Carrick couts are cowed and betted !' ' My thumb for Jock ! the sow is flitted ! ' " Another poetical tale, similar in length and versification, en- titled " The Woo''-Creel, or the Bill o' Bashan," issued from his private press in 1816.* It was inscribed to John Hamilton, Esq. of Sundrum ; the " homely rhymes,*''' as mentioned by the author. * Auchinleck : Printed by James Sutherland, 181G. The poem appeared in the Edinburgh Gazette of tlie 10th December 1B23. 320 SIR ALEXANDER BOSWELL. being little more than " the versification of an old story" playfully related in a social hour by that gentleman. The story unfolds a rustic intrigue, in which, " auld Lowrie Weir" having returned unexpectedly from a distant market, the young gudewife is very much at a loss where to conceal her buirdly paramour ; but " A woman's wit aye stands the test ; — She whipt young Lowrie frao his nest, And, aye when the auld carle tirl'd Nippet the weanock till it skirl'd, To dro\vn the bustle and the din Of him without and them within. ' Doil'd carle ! ' quoth she, ' back sae soon ! O Dannie, Dannie, we're undone ! Or butt or ben, there's no ae neuk To hide a chiel o' sic a bulk ; For gudesake man, fye, haste ye speel, And hide up in the big woo'-creel ; My wearied man belyve will snore. Syne yc may slip out at the door.' — ' Woo'-creel !' quoth Dan, (and swore an aitL,) ' The black Mahoun may tak' ye baith ; A bonnio berth for me, I trow, Aboon the reek, among foul woo', Foul braxy dirt, 'twad smoor a sow ; Sooner than do sic fool-like biddin' I'll ding the carle out owre the midden.' — ' O dinna,' quo' she, ' be a fool, Fye haste, ye maun draw in the stool. — The carle roar'd the carle rappit, Dan drew the stool and up he stappit ; And clamber'd to the creel, right fain That he war ance wecl out again. Nanse to the door now glegly ran — ' Hech ! safe us a', is't you, gudeman ? Yo raised up sic an awsome din, I thought 'twas thieves that would be in.' — ' Thieves ! ' quotha, ' truth ye are na blate, Sae lang to gar a body wait. And thole the rain and bitter blast; Mair peats upon the ingle cast. And ripe the ribs, and gie's a low,' — Syne rubb'd his hands and droukit pow. The heapet peats began to bleeze. To warm the carle, but Nan to freeze ; SIR ALEXANDER BOSWELL. 321 For, keekin' up, a fearsome sight For her, glanced by the glimm'ring liglit ; To hide her fright, she tuke to singing, For — o\\Te the creel Dan's leg was hinging : SANG. ' Balow, my babe, balow, balow ; My bonnie babe, balow, balow ; My sonsie lad, balow, balow : And 'twas aye, draw in )-ir leg, my joe.' Dan took the hint, the leg drew in. And co'cr'd ho was frae heel to chin ; But, kceldn' caunio owre the creel, He wish'd skulduddery at the deil ; The ingle low'd, the wat peats reekit. And restless Dan, half-smoor'd, half-smeekit, Began to liotch, and writhe, and wrastle, And wish'd himsel' at Cumnock Castle, At Straid, PolwhjTter, or Monaight, Poulosh, Brydesbank, Leinmark, or Laiglit, Or ony spot in a' the shire But in a creel aboon a fire. What mortal should o' safety brag ? By gude strae-rape, out owre a knag, Hang the woo'-crecl, wccl pack'd and fou', Ten stane* o' flesh, twa stanc o' woo' ; And when Dan's thoughts ran far awa', Doun wi' a brainge cam' creel an' a'. Ac granc he loot,*but it was sture, And out he row'd on the clay floor ; His back was just ae gude braid fleesh O' tarry tatcs o' woo' and creesh ; He look'd, if ought ye could ca' like, A muckle towzie water-tyke ; And afF he bang'd, ne'er kcck'd ahiiit him. The carle in a jifTcy tint him. — ' Losli ! ' cried the wife, ' some deed ye've dune, That brings sic ferlies frae the moon ; O, Lowric ! a black hour is come, When dcils come rown' doun the lum ; Rin, IjO\n'ie, rin, for il/ess John Ilimter, Bc't dcil or witch he can confront Iicr, Tron. 2 S 322 SIR AT.EXANDER BOSWELL. Gar spirits skclp to Egypt's coast, To soom \vi' Pliaroali and liis host.' Poor Ijov.ric bickevM to tliu iiiaiisc, Ihit right and left whiles glowrM askance ; Back cain' the minister, I \\iit ITc was the man to hell the cut Wi' oiiy witch that ever flew In hood o' red, and cloak o' blue. Tie cursed, and blest, and exorcised — Lowric gi'ew calm, the wife Mas pleased, For ilka imp about the house Slank aff like ratten, or like mouse. Fools say — (a douse man scandal sconis) Tliat some ane left a pair o' horns That stack, I canna tell ye how, On unsuspectin' Lotvrie's brow ; Wha cares for claverin' and clashan'. And wha wad wytc the Bill o' Baslian?'" Politics beginning to run high about this period (1816), Bos- well, then member of Parliament for the county of Ayr, and firmly attached to Government, took an active part in opposing the democratical spirit which pervaded the country. The cry of Reform resounded throughout every corner of Scotland ; and the agitated state of the lower ranks of society was well calculated to carry alarm into the higher. Holding the rank of Lieut.-Colonel in the Ayrshire yeomanry cavalry, which had been called into ex- istence some years prior, no man could be more enthusiastic in the service. Both in personal appearance and in temperament, he ex- hibited the bearing of a thorough soldier. Strong and athletic in body, he had all the enthusiasm and ardour of courage necessary to constitute the successful leader of a daring enterprise. Much of his time was devoted to the training of his men ; and perhaps no similar body in the country could surpass those troops more immediately under his superintendence, in discipline and all the essentials of an efficient force. The prospect of civil disturb- ances, from 1817 till ]82], rendered the yeomanry display not altogether an idle one ; and few there are, we believe, who did not entertain the fear that a collision would be unavoidable. A fcM^ days before the expected revolt, on the 1st of April 1820, SIR ALEXANDER BOS WELL. 323 we well recollect seeing Sir Alexander at the head of his men on their way for Paisley ; and certain we are no cavalier of former times could have been inspired by a greater ardour of loyalty, or maintained a more erect and undaunted carriage. Fortunately for the country, the crisis passed over without the necessity of drawing a sword — v.ith the exception of the trifling affair of Bonnymuir — save for the purpose of quelling mobs, or guarding prisoners. As a proof of the estimation in which he was held by the corps, we may mention that there was presented to him, in the month of March 1820, a valuable gold snufF-box, " as a mark of their esteem for him as a man and an officer." Amid the din of political strife, however, Boswell still found leisure to cultivate his literary pursuits, and to interest himself in the affairs of the county. One object dear to his heart was the erection of a suitable monument to the memory of Burns. Hav- ing long conceived that Ayrshire was faulty in this respect, he succeeded, after several years of almost single-handed exertion, in raising a fund for the purpose ; and, on the 25th of January 1820, he had the peculiar satisfaction, as Deputy Grand-Master of the ancient Mother Lodge at Kilwinning, of laying the foun- dation-stone of the monument, which is now one of the chief ornaments of the Poet's birthplace, amid an imposing masonic display, and surrounded by a vast concourse of spectators. In 1821, the loyalty and public services of Boswell were re- Avarded by a Baronetcy. Unfortunately the political calm which followed the suppression of the Radicals in 1820, had begun some time prior to be disturbed by renewed agitation and personal attacks on the part of a portion of the press : and, in order to combat the liberal party with their own weapons, a newspaper Avas started in Edinburgh, under the title of the Beacon. To this shortlived but somewhat celebrated journal. Sir Alexander was a contributor. The Beacon was succeeded by i\\Q^ Sentinel, another journal of similar principles and character, published in Glasgow, to which he also gave his support. Some of the jeux- d'' esprit, supposed to have been communicated by Sir Alexander, were calculated to give offence — the following especially, sug- gested by occurrences connected with the Beacon : — 324 SIR ALEXANDER BOSWELL. " WHIG SONG. Supposed to be written by one of the James's, certainly not by King James I., or King James V., but probably by one of the House of Stuart. Tune — Slieriff Muir. 1 There's some say that they're Whigs, ■ And some say that we're AVhigs, j And some say there's nae Whigs ava, man ; • But ae thing I'm sure, j A pauky Wliig do-er 1 'S tlie Whig that out-whiggifies a', man. \ 1 Chorus. ' And they crack and wc ta'k, And they ta'k and we crack, \ And we ta'k and they crack awa', man. j For conscience the auld Whigs i Were sterUii' and bauld Whigs, And gied their oppressors a claw, man ; j But noiu Whigs for siller, I (Their calf on the pillar,) j Ken nought about conscience ava, man. And they crack and we ta'k, &c. The deil took the lawyer. And left the poor sawyer ; i He was na a mouse to his paw, man ; . Owre straught was his mark, man, i But a Whig Signet Clerk, man, i Can ony thing ony way thraw, man. ! And they crack and we ta'k, &c. They rant about Freedom, But when ye ha'e fee'd 'cm. Cry het or cry cauld, and they'll blaw, man ; ] Tak' him maist rampagant, : And mak' him king's agent ; j • And, liech, how his fury will fa', man ! \ And they crack and we ta'k, &c. i i There's Stot- Feeder Stuart, j Kent for that Fat Cow — art, i How glegly he kicks ony ba', man ; \ And Gibson, lang rhirl, man, j SIR ALEXANDER BOSWELL. Whasc licight might Berve wccl, man, ^ To read his ain name on a wa', man. And they crack and we ta'k, &c. Your knights o' the pen, man. Are a' gentlemen, man, Ilk hody^s a limb o' the law, man ; Tacks, bonds, precognitions. Bills, wills, and petitions. And oiu/ht but a iruiger some draw, m And they crack and we ta'k, &c 825 an. Sae foul fa' backbiters, Wha rin down sic vriters, Wha fatten sae brave and sae braw, man ; Ilk Whiggish believer. Ilk privileged riever. Come, join in a hearty huzza, man. For they crack and we ta'k," &c. Levelled as this piece evidently was at James Stuart, Esq., younger of Dunearn, and tliat gentleman having traced the manu- script to Sir Alexander Boswell, a challenge was the unavoidable consequence. The parties accordingly met near the village of Auchtertool, in Fife, on the 2Gtli of March 1822, when Sir Alex- ander fell, the ball of his opponent having entered near the root of the neck on the right side. The gallant Baronet was immediately carried to Balmuto, where he expired in the course of next day. Sir Alexander was attended by John Douglas, Esq., and Mr Stuart by the Earl of Rosslyn, as seconds. From the evidence adduced at the trial of Mr Stuart, it appears that Sir Alexander, on the way from the North Ferry to the ground, had intimated to Mr Douglas his intention not to fire. He said, " He had no ill-will at Mr Stuart — he had no wisli to put his life in jeopardy, though in an unhappy moment he had injured him — he bore him no ill-will ; and, therefore, it was his determination to fire in the air." This of course was unknown to the opposite parties. Thus closed abruptly, by a political duel, the life of one'who, as a country gentleman, was certainly an ornament to the district in which he resided, and whose literary taste and talent entitle him to no mean place among the Poets of Scotland. Sir Alexander had only returned fi-om London on the 25tli, the day before he 326 SIR ALEXANDER BOSWELL. received the cliallcngc. He had there been perforniing the me- lancholy duty of laying the head of his only brother James,* to uhom he was much attached, in the grave. In his pocket-book, after the fatal affair at Auchtertool, were found tlic following lines on the death of his relative : — " ON THE DEATH OF JAMES BOSWELL. There is a pang when kindred spirits pai t, And cold pliilosophy we must disown ; There is a thrilling spot in cv'ry lieart. For pulses heat not from a heart of stone. Boswell ! th' allotted earth lias closed on tlicc ; Thy mild but gen'rous \\ariiith is jjassM away ; A purer spirit never death set free, And now the friend we honour'd is but ela_v. His was the triumph of the heart and mind ; His was the lot which few are bless'd to know : More proved, more valued — fervent, yet so kind ; He never lost one friend, nor found one foe." The death of Sir Alexander Boswell created a great sensation throughout the country, more especially in Ayrshire, where he was much respected. His body having been brought from Bal- muto to be deposited in the family vault at Auchinleck, the day of intennent was one not soon to be forgotten in the neighbour- hood of his estate. The whole of the Ayrshire Cavalry, with whom he had been long and honourably connected, turned out to pay the last homage to one who had so often delighted to appear at their head ; while an immense body of the tenantry, and all the gentlemen and respectable people of the district, swelled the numerous cavalcade of mourners. The character of Sir Alexander Boswell was that of a high- spirited, chivalrous-minded gentleman — perhaps better adapted for a former than the present age. In the days of chivalry, he would * Mr James Boswell, who died on the 24th February 1822, in the forty- third year of his age, was a man of very superior learning and talent. He was left the literary executor of Mr Malone — a trust which he executed in a manner that gave to the \\ orld one of the largest and most elaborate editions of Shakspcare ever published. SIR ALEXANDER BOSWELL. 327 have been a knight of great spirit and prowess. His feelings were certainly too warm for the plodding realities of everyday life. Whatever engagement he might enter upon, he threw his whole soul into the undertaking ; and they must have been no common obstacles indeed that he could not overcome. His poli- tical career was in consequence marked by an intensity and zeal which permitted of no compromise. In private life, and in the circle of his friends, he was one of the most social and amusing companions. He was much attached to masonry ; and in the lodge none could preside over the " sons of light"'*' with greater propriety, or more in the spirit of the " privileged few." The blank occasioned by his death has not yet, though nearly eighteen years have elapsed, been supplied in the county. Whether at- tending a county meeting of supply, or mixing in " a bonspiel" on the loch ; or whether joining in the banquet at a Caledonian club ball, or in that of a yeomanry dance. Sir Alexander could equally contribute to the festivities and mirth of the occasion. He was therefore universally beloved, save perhaps where the line of politics was made the line of demarcation. In Parliament, he never made any figure as a speaker, though, judging from his fluency of language and readiness of reply at such public meetings as he chose to enter into discussion, this did not appear to arise from any want of talent for debate. In the earlier part of his life, he was fond of the turf and the field, and at one period kept ^ a pack of hounds at Auchinleck. The greater part of Sir Alexander's poetical effusions, we be- lieve, have been printed in some shape or other ; but as few copies were in general thrown off — having been intended for pri- vate circulation only — it is to be supposed that, besides those enumerated in the course of this sketch, many still remain which wc have not seen. That the whole will be collected and published at some future period, we have no doubt ; and if the imperfect notice thus taken of the Poet and his works shall tend in any way to the furtherance of an object so desirable, we shall feel amply rewarded for our trouble. After his death, a good many pieces found their way to publi- city through the medium of the newspapers. Among others, the 328 SIR ALEXANDER BOSWELL. following, since adopted into several collections, first ap]5eared in '■ the Ap- Courier for January 1823. It affords a graphic picture j of the animated game of curling, nowhere followed with more spirit or success tlian in Ayrshire, and in which the author Avas a i keen participator : — j . " LOCHSIDE AND DAMBACK ; OR, THE CURLERS.* A DUET. ! i Tune — The Auld Wife ayont tlie Fire. LOCHSIDE. ] Let feckless chiels, like crucket weans, \ Gae blaw their thumbs v.-V pechs and grancs, I Or thaw their fushionlcss shank banes, > An' hurklc at an ingle ; But lads o' smeddum, croose and bauld, I AVhase blood can thole a nip o' cauld, ', Your ice-stunes in your gray-plaids fauld, I An' try on lochs a innyle. | I Chorus. '•• When snaw lies white on ilka knowe, The ice-stane and the good broom kow '• Can warm us like a bleezin' low — Fair fa' the ice and curlin'. _ • Soop the rink, lads, wide enough, j The hog-scores mak', and mak' ilk Irovijh, I And though the game be close and tough, We, aiblins, yet may bang them. i Stand on Tam Scot — ye've a good e'e — I Come creepiri' up the ice to me — j Lie liero — my besorn's on the Tee — i Let's ha'e a stane amang them. Wlien snaw lies white, &c. DAMBACK. Johnny Gray mak' tliis your rest, A good calm shot is aye the best, He'8_/?ei it ragin'' like a pest — O, what's come owre you, Johnny ? * A very fine print of " The Curlers" has lately been published from a painting by the talented Mr George Harvey, R.S.A., engraved by Mr William Howison, which does great credit to both artists. SIR ALEXANDER BOSWELL. 329 LOCHSIDE. Stand on, Peat-bog, and gie's a guard, I ken yc can play : cowlious, Laird, Just lie ahint our staue a yard — / like thee iveel — that's bonnie. When snaw lies white, &c. DAMBACK. Now, Rob Roy, mind the ice is gleg ; Aim for the guard, and break an egg^ But, O be cowtious, man, I beg — He's roariii' in the corner. Scop — f/ie him heels ! he's «/f' the ioe — Tlie chiels are fou, or else no wise ; For Gude-sake, \\\\\ ye tak' advice. And play in your auld or'ner. When snaw lies white, &c. LOCHSIDE. Now Geokdie Goudie here's a j^ort. Be cannie, and we'll soop ye for't ; I carena tliough ye 're twa ells short — Hands up — there's walth o' pouther. DAMBACK. Now, AViLLiE, here's a fine inring^ Play straught, and rub him like a king — He's slipt his foot, and wi' a fling, The stane's out owre his shouther. When snaw lies white, &c. Sin' I was born, and now I'm gray, I ne'er saw siccan wratched play ; Our fallows a' clean wud the day ; Their stanes, like gowks, are hurlin' : But bring the whisky and the baiks. Though fortune has play'd us the glaiks, A bumper to the Land o' Cakes, Au' Uer ain game o' curlin'. When snaw lies white," &c. The poems of Sir Alexander arc mostly in manuscript, although several have appeared anonymously in the pages of the leading Tory journals. One or two of these can still be traced ; amongst which we may notice the exquisite parodies on popular melodies, subsequently reprinted in the " New Whig Guide," A few craps from his pen having come into the possession of a literary «> .p 330 SIR ALEXANDER BOSWELL. gentleman, who afterwards held an official situation in the west country, he printed some dozen copies. From these we quote the following verses on the death of the last Duke of Queensberry, whose peculiarities were for many years a fund upon which the gossips of London could almost daily draw : — " VERSES ON A REPORT OF THE DUKE OF QUEENSBERRY'S DEATH. Pray, what is all this vast ado That runs each street and ally through ? 'Tis the departure of the Q, The star of Piccadilly. The king, God bless him ! gave a whew ; What ! two Dukes dead — a third gone too ; What, what ! could nothing save old Q ? The star of Piccadilly. Thank heav'n, he's gone ! exclaim 'd Miss Prue, My mother, and grandmother too. May now walk safe from that old Q, The star of Piccadilly. Poll, Peggy, Patty, Kate, and Sue, Descendants of old Dames he knew. Weep for their suitor, rev'rend Q, The star of Piccadilly. The jockey club, Newmarket hue, Who knew a little thing or two, Cry out, ' He's off; we've done old Q, The star of Piccadilly !' The seignors and sciguoras too. Like cats in love, set up Uicir mew ; Ah, morto, morto, povcra Q ! The star of Piccadilly. Townsend, Macmanus, all t!ie hue And cry of Bow Street, each purlieu And dirty ally mourn old Q, The star of Piccadilly. Old Nick, he whisk'd his tail so blue ; He cock'd his eye, and look'd askew ; ila, ha ! quoth he, I've caught old Q, The star of Piccadilly. SIR ALEXANDER BOSWELL. 331 ', -I On wings of sulphur off lie flew ; j All London take your last adieu ; i There, there, he claws away old Q, i The star of Piccadilly. ; And, now, may this be said of Q, That right or wrong he'd still pursue Whatever object pleased his view, The star of Piccadilly. He neither cared for me nor you, But ran each vice and folly through ; For ever seeking something new, The star of Piccadilly. Till (to agreement strictly true) At length he gave the devil his due, And died a hoy — at eighty-two, The star of Piccadilly." Sir Alexander Boswell married, 26tli November 179.9, Miss G. Gumming, daughter of Thomas Gumming, Esq., banker, Edinburgh, by whom he left James, the present Baronet, born December 1806, who married, 1830, Jesse-Jane, daughter of Sir James Montgomery Gunninc^hame, Bart, of Gorse Hill, and a daughter, married to Sir William Francis Elliot, Bart, of Stobs and^Vells. 332 ARCHIBALD CRAWFURD. ARCHIBALD CRAWFURD, AUTHOR OF THE " TALES OF MY GRANDMOTHER," &c. Archihald Crawfurd is a native of Ayr, wlierc he still resides. No author, perhaps, was ever less indebted to the advantages of education — the mere rudiments of English reading being the ut- most of his scholastic acquirements. When only thirteen years of age, he was sent to London to learn the trade of a baker with the husband of his sister, who had settled there some years before, and was then in good business. Archibald, however, did not relish the drudgery of a bakery ; and having a natural taste for books, every hour which he could steal from his labours was sedu- lously devoted to the perusal of such volumes as chance threw in his way. In this manner he made considerable progress in improvement, though, as may Avell be supposed, his reading was of a very desultory description. Archibald's love of books brought him into much trouble, involving their luckless votary in frequent derelictions of duty. After eight years of unplea- sant servitude, he returned to his native town ; and, in order to acquire some knowledge -of penmanship, he then, at the age of twenty-two, attended the classes of the writing-master in the Academy for a quarter of a year — his means not permitting a more prolonged attempt to remedy the defects of his early edu- cation. Heartily disgusted with his former business, Archibald now turned his thoughts to another mode of life. Proceeding to Edinburgh, he was fortunate in getting into the employment of a very worthy gentleman, Charles Hay, Esq., w^ith whom he remained for a good many years, the happiest of his existence. Perceiving his literary turn of mind, Mr Hay kindly indulged him with free access to his extensive library ; and, with this rich fountain of knowledge open to him, he soon became acquainted ■with the best English writers, and drank deeply of history and ARCHIBALD CRAWFURD. 333 the drama. The okl authors were more especially his favourites, preferring the quaint, forcible diction of the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries, to the polish and wire-drawn sentimentality of modern literature. Leaving Edinburgh, Crawfurd next engaged in the family of the late member of Parliament for Perth, Leith Hay, Esq., in whose service he continued upwards of five years. At the end of that period, about 1811, he once more returned to Ayr, and, with the money he had saved from his earnings, entered into busi- ness as a grocer. Fortune was not propitious, however ; and, after struggling for a year or tM'o, he was necessitated to relieve himself of the burden by compounding with his creditors. He then became auctioneer, took a small shofp for the sale of furni- ture, got married, and now, with his children grown up around him, may be considered " well to do in the world." Possessed of a rich fancy, and a teeming imagination, no one can tell a better anecdote, or embellish an ofF-hand tale with half the dramatic effect and humour of the witty auctioneer ; but, though well known and appreciated for his talent in this way, it was not till a comparatively late period of his life that he aspired to the name of author. Prompted by the political ferment of 1819, he produced a satirical pamphlet, published anonymously, entitled " St James' in an Uproar," of which not less than three thousand copies were sold in Ayr and the neighbourhood. This produc- tion having attracted the notice of the authorities, the printer was apprehended, and compelled to give bail for his appearance ; but happily no prosecution followed. On terms of the closest friendship with Goklie, of the Ayr and WigtonsJiire Courier', already noticed in our work, Crawfurd was encouraged in his contributions to that journal ; and thus originated the " Tales of my Grandmother," the greater part of which first appeared in the columns of the Courier. At this period, Mr Crawfurd occupied a small furniture-shop in the High Street of Ayr, with a single apartment in the back premises for the accommodation of his family. In this room, amid the din of the children, or at midnight, when sleep commanded silence, those talcs were written, and those verses composed, which promise to 334 ARCHIBALD CRAWFURD. hand liis name clown to posterity as a romancer or lyric poet of no inconsiderable merit. Influenced by the suggestions of his friends, Mr Crawfurd announced his intention of publishing the " Tales of my Grand- mother," from the press of the Ayr and WigtonsMre Courier. This volume was finished in 1824. Before issuing it to his sub- scribers he inclosed a copy to Blackwood, requesting his name on the title-page ; but the publisher declined, no doubt from rea- sons satisfactory to himself. Not disheartened by this rebuff, the author immediately applied to Constable & Co., who replied tliat if he would cancel the Ayr edition, for which they agreed to remunerate him, and furnish a few more tales, so as to swell the volume into two, they would publish the work in Edinburgh, and, as they did in most other cases, allow him the half of the profits. To these terms Mr Crawfurd at once agreed. He instantly set to work, produced a quantity of fresh material, and, in 1825, the " Tales of my Grandmother" appeared from the Edinburgh press, in two volumes 12mo. The work was well received by the public, and flatteringly noticed in most of the literary journals and re- views of the day. While the sheets were in the press, the author paid a visit to Edinburgh, where he was received by Constable Avith all the afTability and kindness for which the great bibliopo- list was distinguished. He dined with him at his own house, along with several of the literati, who fluttered round their liberal patron while his fortunes M'cre in the ascendant. The evenins' was a happy one. Constable, not long in discovering the epigrammatic wit of the author, did not fail to draw it forth, much to his own amusement and that of the party. Crawfurd's sojourn in the capital was necessarily limited ; and, on taking farewell next day, he experienced the same cordiality of feeling with which he had been received. Beyond kind words, however, our author derived no benefit whatever by the publication of his Tales. Constable h Co. allowed him to draw on them for i^80, to settle with the Ayr publisher,* and would no doubt have acted honourably by The )irliiting of the \\x cdllioii anioiiiitcd to £.Ty\. Cniwrmd tlius lost -t^l by tlic sprctilation. ARCHIBALD CRAWFURD. 335 liim in accounting for the profits of the new ; but the crisis of 1826 was at hand, the firm became bankrupt, and the claim of poor Crawfurd never was adjusted. Copies of the volumes found their way extensively into the circulating libraries, and their contents are well known. The Tales are chiefly founded on traditions familiar in the west of Scotland, told in a brief sketchy style, and with considerable dramatic effect. Scattered throuohout the volimies are some very pretty verses. In " Johnny Faa," founded on the popular Carrick legend of Lord Cassillis'' Lady and the Gipsies,* Sir John Dunbar, the early admirer of the lady, is represented as approaching the Castle in the character of an old minstrel, singing the following plaintive strain, accompanied by a French cithern or guitar : — " O gie me back my heart again, For its owre true for thy fause breast ! Thou silly thing ! stay nearer hame, Gin thou wad prize thy yerthly rest. But she is fair although she's fause ! A waist sae genty nane may see ! The lire upon her taperin' hawse Wad match the snaw on Benachie ! ! wha could smile, yet leuk sac proud I' — Fule that I was my heart to tine ! Oft vaunts she o' her gentle bluid — 1 daurna mint to speak o' mine ! What then ? Grace sits upon her brow ! Her cheeks, nae rose was e'er so bright ! Her lips, twa cherries ripe to pu' ! Her e'en, twa beams o' heav'nly licht ! Tliy lot is dool, thou fluttcrin' thing ; An' thou hast changed thy mirth for sorrow ! Ah ! sae the joys that charm to-day. Aft fill the cup o' wo to-morrow." In " The Rash Vow," an inimitable sketch of its kind, Meg VVitherspoon, a crazy bedlamite — somewhat akin to Madge Wild- * " The gipsies cam' to our Lord's yctt, And, O ! but they sang bonnie ; They sang sae sweet an' sac comi)lctc. That down cam' our fair ladve.'' — Old BuUud. 33(3 ARCHIBALD CRAWFURD. fire in " The Heart of Mid-Lothiair' — wlio enacts a conspicuous part in tlie drama, by preserving Johnny Dow from breaking his oath at the very moment he is about to wed another, sings the following touching lines over the grave of her child : — " The inai}goUrs a gaudy flower. An' tliat may please the crowd ; The pale, the modest snaw-drap Is like my Maggy's shrewd. The primrose an' the daisy Are bonnie flowers an' braw, An' sweet's yon yellow-scented flower That decks the niin'd wa' ; But sleep, but sleep, my bonnie bairn, Thou'rt sweeter than them a'. The gowd^pink bigs her cozie nest High on yon stately tree ; The lav'rock sings a sweeter sang, An' he bigs on the lea : Then sleep, my bonnie Maggy — Sleep, sleep, my bonnie bairn ; Upon thy breast he has biggit his nest. To keep his bosom warm." The song of " Bonnie Mary Hay," set to music by R. A. Smith, and which has become so popular, appeared originally in a detached form in the Ayr and Wigtonshire Courier^ and was afterwards introduced in the tale of " The Huntly Casket." The song is undoubtedly much indebted to the air to which it is con- joined ; but it is at the same time a sweet little lyric, and well merits the favour in which it is held : — " Bonnie Mary Hay, I will lo'e thee yet. For thy eye is the slac, tliy hair is the jet ; The snaw is thy skin, and the rose is thy cheek ; Bonnie Mary Hay, I will lo'e thee yet. Bonnie Mary Hay, will you gang wi' me, When the sun's in the west, to the hawthom-tree ; To the liawthorn-tree, in the bonnie berry-den. And I'll tell you, Mary, how I lo'e you then ? Bonnie ISIary Hay, it's haliday to me, When thou " When auld Rohin Bruce I Lived at Turnberry House, ! He was the prince o' his people, the frien' o' the land ; ] Then to Kyle for your cow, j Gallowa' for your woo, , But Carrick, my billies, when ye want a man. i At the stream o' auld Bannocks, ! There was crackin' o' crummocks— It was a hard toolzie, lang focht hand to hand ; j Then to Kyle for your cow, i Gallowa' for your woo, But Carrick, my billies, that day proved the man. Then why should wo not bo crouse | When we think o' auld Robin Bruce, i Whose blood doth still flow, and whose progeny rings ? j Then to Kyle for your cow, j Gallowa' for your woo', j But Carrick, my billies, gives Britain her Queen." ROBERT HETRICK. i^oD ROBERT HETRICK, THE DALMELLINGTON POET. Robert Hetrick was born in Dalmellington, -vvlicre he still resides. His father, whom the Poet succeeded, was the village smith. With no education other than the common acquirements of reading and writing, Hetrick became an early votary of the Muse, and was remarkable, from his boyhood, for a thoughtful, staid deportment. The small library of his father, comprising such works as the Spectator, Robertson's History of Scotland, Life of Sir William Wallace, &c., was a source of great entertainment and instruction to the youthful Vulcan. Some of his songs, written during the French war, found their way to considerable popularity through the columns of the newspaper press. Encouraged by the favour with which these anonymous effusions were received, and urged by a numerous circle of friends, to whom his unassuming merit and personal worth recommended him, he was induced to publish a volume of •' Poems and Songs" in 1826. The " Craigs of Ness," with which the collection opens, is a graphic and truly poetic description of the Glen of Ness, through which the Doon pours its rolling floods after escaping from the loch ; but the poem is rather lengthy for quotation. One of the minor pieces, " The Invasion," written when the much-talked-of " flat-bot- touied boat" expedition of Napoleon called the British population almost to a man to arms, may perhaps serve as a specimen of the volume : — " While Monsieur is vowing our nation he'll ruin, Deprive us o' freedom, our monarch an' a'. His restless Convention declare their intention Nae mair to let Britons o' liberty blaw : Their ilat-bottoni'd vermin, along the coast swarming, Arc ready to bring the invaders awa' ; But our brave British freemen, both landsmen and seamen, Will fall at their posts e'er they flinch them ava. 310 ROBERT IIETRICK. Our dear happy island, where commerco is smiling, AVhero freedom says this is my country by law ; Our laws are as mild as the heart of a child, And the sway of our monarch is milder than a' : Our free constitution, since Will's revolution, Deserves our support, our attachment, and a' ; Whoe'er wont protect it, should not be respected, But hiss'd like a thief from our country awa'. But Monsieur take care, of old England beware. For her children are ready to rise at a ca' ; Your fop-doodle breeding and mountebank deeding, John Bull he abhors, your flagaries and a' : Yet if, through persuasion, you try the invasion. To please your great Consul, Convention, and a', Redd up your affairs for your wives and your lieirs. For if ance you come owro you will near get awa'. And if to the north you would then sally forth. There the chiefs their brave clans to battle will draw ; For Scotchmen are ready to fight like their daddies. Repelling with fury Danes, Romans, and a' ; They'll follow their leaders against the invaders, Nae dangers in war will make them turn awa' ; Ye proud Gallic legions, who visit these regions, Remember Sir Ralph and the auld Forty-twa. But you, neighbour Pat, sir, what would ye be at, sir ? Nae mortal on earth understands you ava ; Though one party's loyal, the other stands trial. And hang'd are for traitors to country and law. But Paddy be wise, man, take Sawney's advice, man, Stand firm as a rock to your twin brothers twa ; Despise the intrusions of Gallic delusions. Be true to your Monarch and Erin-go-bragh. Ye sons of sweet Coila, your hearts they will boil a'. To think of your freedom by France ta'cn awa'. Still may you inherit brave Wallace's spirit, To fight for your country, and conquer or fa'. If friendship pervade us, though Frenchmen invade us. We will make them repent that they tried it ava ; With Macadam and Oswald, Fullarton and Boswell, We'll pound them to dust, their Convention, and a'." * * The above-named gentlemen were commanders of volunteer corps in the vicinity of the author's residence. ROBERT HETRICK. 341 Though well-advanced in years, the village laureate is yet fre- quently called on to supply the annual ode at a " Wallace Club'"' or " Burns'" Anniversary" meeting; and his Pegasus is seldom shv or restive on such occasions. From one or two of his off- hand effusions of this kind now before us, we select the following, sung at a Wallace Club meeting in Ochiltree : — " How blest is our country where freedom is growing, Like the pine of the forest, perpetually green ; Where the breasts of the brave Caledonians are glowing With all that ennobles the children of men. They are bom to be free as the wind on the mountains, That raves in the tempest and smiles in the gale ; • And their hearts are as pure as the clear rolling fountains. That stream from the rocks to meander the dale. As for base-hearted tyrants, they hate and detest them, Even though in the field they were gallant and brave ; For their power and dominion, who dares to resist them Are doom'd to the gibbet, the rack, and the grave. But Wallace and Bruce, from the battle so gory — In the cause of their country never would flee — They fought for their freedom, their country, and glory, To fall in the carnage or stand to be free. And the brave Caledonians, the worthy descendants Of heroes and chieftains that flourish 'd of yore. Will never relinquish the brave independence That Wallace had strove to inherit before. Though tyrants may league for to rob them of freedom, The national right thafs so dear to them a', They still will have heroes and patriots to lead them, Like Bruce for to conquer, or Wallace to fa'. Though our land is begirt by the cold stormy ocean. Our dark misty moim tains are rugged and bare, Yet these darlv misty mountains excite our devotion. The goddess of freedom is worshipped there. And long may she reign in our mountains and valleys ; And long may our worship be warm and sincere : Then freedom and right, from the boor to the palace, Will grow and will flourish perpetually there." 342 JOHN WRIGHT. JOHN WRIGHT, AUTHOR OF " THE KETROSPECT," &c. The humble individual, a short sketch of whose life and Avrit- ings we are about to give, was born in the year 1805, at a place called Aucliincloigh, in the neighbourhood of Galston. His parents, being in indigent circumstances, were unable to give him more than the mere rudiments of education. The Poet, we believe, was only a few months at school ; and when he left it could read very indifferently. Like the Ettrick Shepherd, Wright was principally indebted to his own perseverance and unaided efforts for all the education he ever received. In his youth, he was a stirring and " wayward boy," fonder of wandering uncon- strained along the picturesque banks of the Cessnock or the Burnawn — both of which streams are frequently alluded to in his poems — than of following after any settled occupation. He was first employed as a coal-driver,* and afterwards apprenticed to a weaver, named George Brown, in the village of Galston, to which place his parents had removed when the Poet was about three years of age. His master, a pious and benevolent man, was much interested in his welfare, and generously encouraged that desire for mental improvement which began to manifest itself in the mind of young Wright. It was at this period that he com- menced to court the Muse ; and the dawnings of that poetical genius, which afterwards shone out so powerfully, first assumed tangibility in the shape of an interlude. As this effusion was never committed to writing — a very difficult task with the author for some time — we are unable to speak with accuracy of its merits. His next attempt was a drama ; and he chose as a subject the life of the great impostor Mahomet. As might be expected, he * Wright never, as is stated in the Quarterly Rivmv, in an article on " Sontliev's Lives of the I'nediicated Poets," wrought in a cotton-mill. JOHN WRIGHT. 343 found the task too vast and comprehensive to be embodied within the prescribed limits of a drama ; and he therefore relinquished it before it was half finished. When he commenced " The Retrospect," he never for a mo- ment contemplated the idea of swelling it out to the size which it latterly assumed ; but, animated by the praise bestowed upon a few stanzas which he had shown to some of his intimate acquaint- ances, he was induced to continue. In his preface, he states, " that before thinking of a hero, the whole of the first and a con- siderable part of the second canto was composed." The truth of this no one will doubt who carefully peruses this able poem. " The Retrospect"" is consequently nothing more nor less than a glowing detail of the youthftd thoughts, feelings, and aspirations of the author. The hero, if indeed he is deserving of such an appellation, does not make his appearance till near the end, and, even then, plays a very unimportant and subordinate part. In a word, his exit is as sudden as his first appearance is unexpected. The real hero is the author himself; and he need not be ashamed to avow it, as he has contrived to frame a genuine model both for imitation and instruction. The poem having accumulated so rapidly in his hands, he be- gan at length to entertain serious thoughts of having it published; and in a short time, by dint of the exertions of himself and his friends, a respectable number of subscribers were obtained — ■more than sufficient, we believe, to cover the expenses of printing, &c. Wrisfht, however, before he launched forth as an author, deter- mined to have the patronage of some man of genius. Intent on this object, he set out for Edinburgh, without money, and with- out any recommendation save the manuscript of his poems. It is said, though we cannot vouch for the truth of the statement, that, before reaching the capital, he was more than once under the necessity of satisfying his hunger in the turnip-fields on the road- side as he passed along. Arrived in Edinburgh, on his very doubtful embassy, he was at a loss what to do — how to procure lodfrinc, or even the Avherewithal to sustain existence. In this unpleasant dilemma, he recollected tliat he had an acquaintance attendin*^ the classes at the Univer.sitv. He immediately set out U4> JOHN WRIGHT. in quest of him, and fortunately was not long in discovering where lie resided. This lucky circumstance at once restored the droop- ing spirits of our hero ; and in the course of a few days, through the good offices of his friend, Wright found his way into the pre- sence of Professor AVilson — a gentleman well known as the liberal patron of genius. The Professor, no doubt struck with the un- assuming demeanour of the Poet, received him in the most cor- dial manner. The result of this interview was highly satisfactory to the feel- ings of Wright. His productions not only elicited the warm com- mendations of the learned critic, but also a promise that he would exert himself in his future welfare. Wright may be said at this time to have reached the acme of his ambition, and returned to his native village flushed with the hopes of future success. We believe we are not wrong when we state, that it was immediately after his arrival in Galston that the poem entitled " The Street- Remarkers" was written, containing some bitins: satire on the envious and uncourteous manner in which he was welcomed by some of his pretended friends. In the course of a short period, the first edition of his poems was published, (dedicated, as a matter of courtesy, to Professor Wilson,) from which the Poet realized a very considerable sum. A second edition was almost immediately afterwards undertaken, including several new pieces : and this impression, we believe, he also succeeded in disposing of. But the strength of mind Avhich had borne him up throughout the adversity of his early years, seems to have been incapable of resisting the tide of fame and good fortune which so suddenly set in upon him. Literally carried away by its power, and unable to guide the helm of his little bark, in place of jirofiting by the smiles of the world, he very soon became one of its shipwrecked castaways. It is of little importance to follow the Poet through the sub- sequent scenes of his life. He got married, and settled in Pol- lockshaws, where he again was compelled to have recourse to the loom for a livelihood. Seized with a transient fit of industry, and still regarding the Muse as a rich mine upon which he could draw at Avill, poor Wright appears to have made one desperate JOHN WRIGHT. 345 effort to regain the position he had lost. Working night and day at the loom, he was not less intent on weaving his thoughts together on a subject which he flattered himself would be the crowning effort of his genius. We forget the topic ; but it was one for which a public prize had been offered. Our informant paid a visit to Wright at this period, and he describes his ap- pearance to have been eccentric in the extreme. The writing- materials lay convenient to his loom, and the moment a couplet struck him, they were of course recorded ; and ever and-anon he quaffed from a flowing can — not " o' reaming nappy," or the produce of the grape — like a Burns or a Byron, but of the best Epsom Salts, diluted with a due quantum of water ! John in- formed his astonished visiter that he found the application of the salts a most effective stimulant to his ffenius, thouah it had wellnigh reduced his system to a skeleton. This fit of industry and physic did not long continue. His erratic temperament soon spurned the hymeneal chain ; he left his home, and may be said to have become a houseless wanderer. When rallied on the subject, he excuses himself by saying that he has merely made " a Byronian separation^ Gifted with talents of no ordinary description — possessed of a mind that could appreciate whatever was sublime or beautiful in nature — Wright might one day or other have raised himself to considerable eminence among our national poets, and have been an ornament and an honour to his native land. But, alas ! a change has come over the spirit of his dream, and he has ignobly fallen from the pinnacle on which genius and fortune both com- bined to place him. " The Retrospect," his best production, is stocked with many choice gems, which cannot foil to convey a very favourable im- pression of the author's capabilities. The following stanzas are of a very high order : — " Thus will I time my unambitious song, To childhood cherish'd iu the rural shade ; Nor form again a wish, nor ever long The dizzying height to reach, nor fawn for aid. 2 X 346 JOHN WRIGHT. The flowers that I ^\ill gather soon may fade ; The gems that glitter in their native dell May lose their lustre to the world displayed ; Yet will not I 'gainst frowning fate rebel ; Sharp, festering, sad regrets shall ne'er be mine to quell. In youth's bright summer, when I skimm'd along On rapture's rolling tide, "twas sweet to try, In buoyancy of soul, to weave sweet song While searching nature with unsullied eye ; The aggregated charms of earth and slc_« — The blight of winter and the bloom of spring — The green and golden mantle, and soft sigh Of gentle autumn — all alike did bring Fresh beauty to the mind, on adoration's wing. * * « For then I was all poesy, and would breathe Song of my own awaking, and still loved In vapours, clouds, and storms myself to sheath ; And but from these the sweets of being proved, Partook their spirit, and perchance promoved My own, it may be, higher than its height, Or for my darkening destiny behoved — Yet wheresoe'er a star of earth shone bright, Or heaven, there was my home, my heart, and my delight. Wild, witching scene, yet shall it be that I From thee shall part ? — Thy waters still roll on, Leap, burn, and blaze with poetry — thy sky Its drapery of clouds and stars enthrone In everlasting loveliness thereon, All-beautifying, beautified — the while, Above my bones sepulchral ashes strown Shall hide thee from me ? — Can it be, this hill. That wood, these dells shall glow, and I lie cold and still ? " The author^s address to the Cessnock, a stream closely linked with his early associations, is no less touching than true to nature : — " Roll on, sweet streamlet ! in thy fairy dream ; Bright are thy banks with verdure, and thy bower With bloom and melody — the beauteous gleam Thou wearest, on thy wave and in thy flowers. JOHN WRIGHT. 347 That led us to thee, in our buoyant hours Of blissful childhood, when the heart ran o'er, And lip and eye spoke love. Oh ! ye bless'd powers That here preside, waft back to this loved shore, And these dear haunts, the form so fitted to adore." The poem concludes with a high eulogium on the gentler sex ; tlie outpouring of a heart deeply susceptible of those noble sym- patliics which shed a lustre over the " human form divine :" — " Man, the proud scoffer, may contemn ; though all His schemes of blits twine round thee — spurn and threat ; Yet ever and anon, when ills befall. He casts himself a suppliant at thy feet ; Frozen apathy not long his winti-y seat May fix where thou should'st sway — sole mortal boon That charm'st through life, and mak'st a death-bed sweet ; Grief fades in thy bright beam, like mists from noon. Or crags that melt in light beneath the summer moon. Heaven's fair semblance, woman ! fount where lies True sympathy alone ; sweet woman's ire Ends with her weeping, like a cloud that dies Away when emptied ; but there is a fire No tears may stifle, rooted, dark, desire Of vengeance in proud man, inflamed by time. Which not till life-blood quench it can expire ; — Like shower of summer dropp'd from heavenly clime. To soften, brighten earth, is woman ! — man, all crime." In summing up this brief and imperfect sketch, we cannot do better than quote the author's graphic description of himself, which is allowed by those who know him to be a very impartial outline of his peculiar characteristics : — " AN ODD CHARACTER. A wayward youth, of vague and varying moods, And strong, though check 'd propensities, I sing : One wlio could woo the muse by streams and woods, Or make her drunken at unhallow'd spring — One who could carol on the thundery "clouds The song of liope, or soar on doubt's dark wing ; All nun mistook him, reck'ning at first glance He was an easy and good-natured dunce ! i 348 JOHN WRIGHT. Ay, tlioy were much mistaken ; for lie threw Simplicity around him as a veil, Whereby the working of men's minds he knew — Himself unknown ; they reck'd not to inhale So dull a spirit ; and there were but few Who otherwise bclicld him : he secm'd stale And spiritless in gesture, speech, and feature — A heartless, harmless, good-for-nothing creature. j \ His spirit ceased at times — though to none known — To be itself ; for he had grown ideal In almost all things he did look upon, Touch, taste, or hear ; and objects most unreal Received from him more bulk of blood and bone Than would with witch-lore even at times agree well ; The brown leaf, rustling forth its evening sigh. Shook him all o'er, as if a god rush'd by ! » » » Love he had felt — but let it pass away — Because on woman, though he doated much. Ho felt his spirit could not bear tlio sway Of making e'er such slender reed his crutch : Though he had heard of happiness this way. He dreaded deeply the connubial clutch : O'er him, withal, did Love much power retain. Back from the clanking of his iron chain. * * « Round his own lovely village centred all His loves, his hopes, and wishes, till he found His cup of bliss there fill'd with burning gall By Envy's squinting horde, that gather'd round, And o'er his path of fame did foully crawl. Like hissing adders, when his hopes were crown'd ; His muse they tried to blight — but she unmarr'd ; They fell to work upon himself, the Bard ! * * ♦ His was the hand of scorn — not power : mankind, In ordinary cases, found him civil ; But, once awaked, they shrunk aghast to find A spirit rise that would browbeat the devil ! His heart was warm, and vain, and oft would wind Around him flattery from a common drivel : His brow was wrinkled, and his young scalp hoary. Twice ten years ere his time, through love of glory. HUGH BROWN. 349 Though forests, and deep glens, and mountain streams, And high o'er-hanging cliffs, and caverns drear, Fonn'd the first rainbow of his youthful dreams, That o'er him hung for ever, fresh and clear — Yet solitude, though wrapt in noonday beams. Without some cottage or companion near. He trembled to approach. Why is it so, Tliat cherish'd feeling e'er should end in wo ? Thus was this youth the comet of his kind, A dancing streamer — wand 'ring will-o'-the-wisj) ; The misty ties of men could never bind His free and daring spirit in their grasp ; The common path he left, if he might find A by-way near, some random muse to clasp. Reader ! this youth's no phantom of the brain : He is not dead, but sleeps — -to rise again." HUGH BROWN, AUTHOR OF " THE COVENANTERS," &c. Among the more recent, or rather the " living poets" of Ayr- shire, the author of " The Covenanters" is entitled to a promi- nent position. Whether regarded as a man of genius, or a use- ful and unassuming member of society, he is equally recommended to our esteem. Nor are his claims on our attention at all abated by the fact, that he belongs to that class of persevering self-taught men of whom our country has so much occasion to be proud. Hugh Brown is a native of Newmilns, and was originally brought up to the trade of muslin weaving. He had the advan- tage of an education common to the workinij-classcs of Scot- land — reading, writing, and arithmetic ; but the thirst for know- ledge was deeply implanted in his bosom ; and, though constantly engaged during the day at the irksome manual avocation to which 3o0 HUGH BROWN. he was caily apprenticed, he still found leisure to attend classes in the evening, and to improve his mind by general reading. The village library, to which he had access, was to him a storehouse of literature ; but, without any one to direct him in his choice of subjects, he is understood to complain of having formed that de- sultory habit of reading, by which the mind may acquire much but forgets more. His taste for poetry was of early growth ; and, long ere he had attained the " bone and muscle" of manhood, he was gratified by finding the " Poet's Comer" of more than one journal thrown open to his effusions. Through the medium of the village library, Brown had been enabled to keep pace in some measure with the literature of the day, and he drank deeply at the fountains which the overflowing genius of a Scott and a Byron so amply supplied. Like many others of the period, he felt much interested in the history of the latter, more especially in reference to his short but enthusiastic career in the cause of Greece. On the death of the noble Poet, Brown gave vent to liis feelings in the following stanzas, which he addressed to the editor of the Scots Magazine : — " Mr Editor, — The inclosed lines were composed when the mania was raging for composition about the noble Poet to whose memory they are dedicated. They were thrown into a comer, (perhaps it would have been better they bad never been drawTi from it ;) and, casting my eyes t'other day upon them, tlie very noble thought struck me of sending them to the editor of the Edinburgh Jlagazine, that he might judge whether they are worthy of a place in that miscellany, or only fit to ' Rouse a dead man into rage, And warm with red resentment the wan cheek.' If, sir, it be any apology for these verses to say that I am illiterate, I acknowledge that I am so, though the piece itself would tell you this, as 1 have heard or seen somewhere, ' in language more expressive than words.' If you think it worthy of a place, I shall be very happy should you insert it ; if not, there is, Mr Editor, a receptacle near you, to which it can be conveyed to the dead stream of Lethe. Throw it there in silence, for I think it is at least worthy to be forgotten. Yours, &c. HUGH BROWN. Newmilns, Nov. 1825. The harp of the minstrel is hung in the hall. And his fleeting existence is o'er ; And still are its strings, as it sleeps on the wall. Like the fingers that swept it before. HUGH BROWN. 351 His eye, once so bright, has been robb'd of its fire ; His bosom, once wild as the wave. Which the shrill note of liberty's trump could inspire, Or the heart-thrilling tones of the -well-swept lyre, Is silent and still as the grave. ' He had evil within him' — wc see the dark shade When his bosom's dark secrets we scan ; Yet his arm was still lifted the freeman to aid, And his deeds shed a lustre on man. If the black cloud of hate o'er his bosom did low'r, If he wish'd to the desert to flee, He was only the foe of the minion of pow'r. Who, fiend-like, stalks over the earth for an hour, But was ever the friend of the free. The soft scenes of nature for him had no charms, The riv'let and fast-fading flow'r Awaked not his soul, like the horrid alarms When a nation is wreck 'd in an hour. In the dark-sweeping storm, by Omnipotence driven, In the flash and the long-pealing roll ; In the rocking of earth, in the frowning of heaven. When the pillars of nature seem trembling and riven, 'Twas a beam of delight to his soul. As he wander 'd (O Greece !) o'er thy once hallow'd ground, j And stood on the warrior's grave, 5 He heard but the voice of Oppression around, And saw but the home of the slave — As he gazed through the vista of ages gone by, .1 In the gloi-y and pride of the world — j As he gazed on the ruins that round him did lie, \ It drew from his bosom a sorrowful sigh, j Where T)Tanny"s flag was unfurl'd. He tuned his wild harp o'er tlie ruins of Greece, His strains were impassion'd and strong ; . They solaced his heart, like a seraph of Peace, I While her freedom arose like a song. And when the bright sun of their liberty rose, \ His heart full of rapture adored ; The morning had dawn'd on their fatal repose, Their slumbers were broken, they nish'd on their foes, To shiver the chains they abhorr'd. Did lie fall in the struggle when Greece would be free ,^ 'Twas a star blotted out on tlicir shore ; 352 HUGH BROWN. But his hovering spirit yet triumphs with thee, Though his hiavc aim can aid thee no more. He expired as tlic torcli of thy glory grew bright, In the glorious noon of his day ; His triumph was short, lilic the meteor of night, As it flashes o'er hcav'n ^^ith its long train of light — • For like it he vanish 'd away. You have seen the bright summer's sun sink in the west, And the glories that shrouded him there. Like the splendours that dwell on the heav'n of the blest, Immortal, unclouded, and fair. So the halo of glory shall circle his name. His wreath shall eternally bloom ; And Britain triumphant her Byron shall claim, As he shines with the great in the temple of Fame, The triumph of man o'er the tomb ! " Tlie foregoing verses of our youthful Poet not only found a place, but were prefaced by the editor with the following very flattering remarks : — " That the spirit of Burns still hovers among the peasantry of his native county of Ayr, we think will be mani- fest from the following letter and verses, which have lately been sent to us from an Ayrshire village, by one of the same class to which Burns belonged. Most willingly have we conceded to the request of the author, in giving a place to these stanzas, which, though liable to various objections when judged of by the fastidi- ous rules of modern taste, yet, we cannot help thinking, display a very considerable extent of intellectual capacity, vigorous imagi- nation, and correctness, if not delicacy of feeling. In short, had the lines of Hugh Brown's destiny been cast in more pleasant places, we doubt not that he would have made no contemptible figure in the eyes of his fellow-men." Such a compliment from so high a source as the conductor of the Scots Magazine, Avas well calculated to stimulate ambition ; and the author had the still farther gratification of finding his " Lines to the Memory of Byron" copied into several newspapers of the day. Brown now came to be regarded by his fellow-villagers as a young man of superior mind and promise ; and not long after- wards he was engaged to teach a small school at Drumclog — the scene of the victory of the Covenanters over Claverhouse. This HUGH BROWN. 353 was an employment more suited to his disposition, and one which allowed him a much greater portion of time for self-improvement, and the cultivation of his poetical powers. The locality was one well suited to his enthusiasm. There our Scottish forefathers had encountered the almost invincible arms of the Romans ; and there, in later times, had the same persevering spirit of liberty been evinced in stern and unbending resistance to civil tyranny. When wandering alone amid the battle-field, in the vicinity of Loudoun Hill, consecrated to the liberties of our country, he frequently gave vent to his feelings in poetical numbers, or trea- sured up those impressions of scene and sentiment, which nowhere so forcibly suggest themselves as on the spot sacred to the strug- gles or triumph of the free. It was while a teacher at Drumclog, and deeply imbued with the spirit and reminiscences of the days of the Covenanters, that Brown first thought of attempting a poem in honour of those who fought and fell to secure the bless- ings which we now enjoy. It was not, however, until a good many years afterwards, when he had changed the scene of his labours, that he set about undertaking the task then proposed. Having finished his engagement at Drumclog, and a vacancy occurring in a private school at Galston, he was admitted as teacher, which situation he still holds, and is deservedly respected in his sphere. Here he found leisure to perfect himself in the differ- ent branches he was required to teach, and also to instruct himself in other collateral departments which he found either necessary or desirable to acquire. He prosecuted the study of Latin, almost by his own unaided exertions, till enabled to translate those au- thors usually employed in a course of instruction, which, together with considerable progress made in the French language, afford no mean evidence of his perseverance in overcoming the diffi- culties of an originally limited education. Nor did he cease, amid the plodding toils of scholarship and the arduous task of im- parting instruction to others, to urge his suit with the Muse. The poem entitled " The Covenanters," which, with other pieces, was published at Glasgow by J. Symington & Co., in LS3S, was for the most part composed after the fatiguing employment of the day, in the peaceful bosom of his family. He was engaged in it 2 Y 354 HUGH BPvOWN. altogether about a year ; and, during that period, found much pleasure in resorting to the task, rendered pleasant after the tur- moil and anxiety of the school. The little volume which he ven- tured to put forth, not without hesitation and fear, was well re- ceived ; and several favourable notices of it appeared in the public journals, * and, amongst others, the following, which we think not less flattering than judicious : — " The theme chosen by this new aspirant for poetical fame, is one of abiding interest in the bosom of every native of the ' land of the mountain and the flood.' Those who best know the endurance and sufferings of our persecuted forefathers — those who best understand the blessings which their steadfastness and indomitable resolution secured to their descendants, are the most ardent in their admiration of their principles. With all this admiration for these sturdy assertors of their rights and faith, it is strange that no Scotsman has been found to embalm their deeds in poetry. Saving a few passages in Graham, Campbell, Montgomery, and Struthers, their memory is left by the poets to the quaint epitaphs on their tombstones, and the sober relations of history. Mr Brown, then, is happy in the choice of his subject. To the execution of his task he has brought considerable historical reading, a cultivated taste, an ardent imagination, and a style which is at once glox^ing and correct. He is an enthusiast in his subject — espousing the cause of his heroes with a Homeric ardour, and denouncing their oppressors in terms of unmitigated indignation. Hence many of the pictures that he draws are striking and full of feeling. The lesser poems possess much merit. Some are pleasing and graceful, others vigor- ous and graphic ; and the ode on ' Desaix' displays a lyric talent of a very high order. A pensive feeling generally pervades them ; and the sentiments expressed are such as will find an echo in the breasts of the friends of religion and morality. We have only room for a single extract, which we take at random from ' The Covenanters :'' — Where Loudoun Hill lifts high its conic form. And bares its rocky bosom to the storm, Time's varying change has come o'er man, but Thou Stand'st with immortal nature on thy brow ! As when the Roman soldier gazed on thee. Abrupt, and frowning in thy majesty. There Cesar's sentinel his vigil kept, And Rome's proud legions in thy shadow slept ; There the tired eagle, lilce a guiltless thing, Paused in its flight, and droop'd its wearied wing ; Beneatii thy brow tlieir flag of death was furl'd. Whose life was war, whose empire was the world. Around thee are the hallow'd fields of fame. That shed a lustre on the Scottish name : — ■ * Tail's Mag;izine for December gives a flattering- review of Brown's volume. HUGH BROWN. S55 I Arouud thee Wallace raised his battle ciy — Thy rocky echoes thunder'd in reply ! — Free as tlie eagle on his native hills, J Indignant saw and felt his country's ills ; ! Rush"d with an angel's might with spear and shield, ] And reaj)'d the sword's red harvest of the field. Where the, rude cairn, the time-worn altar, where The wand'rer knelt as Freedom's w'orshipper, — The cairn more sacred than the marble bust. Or pompous pile that hides the tyrant's dust ; j There ruthless hearts and ruder hands have been, And pass'd the ploughshare o'er the hallow'd scene ; And left no reUc, not a vestige near, To claim the sacred off 'ring of a tear ! ] Around thee, Bruce, with flashing helm and plume, | Who won his throne through battle's storm and gloom, ; Riuiged his proud banner'd host upon the plain ' Against the might of England's steel-clad men. — The freeman's arm is strong, his heart is true — And this the chivalrj- of England knew ; The Bruce's sword, the soldier's trusty spear, I Fell like the lightning in its full career. j The patriot king with rapture-kindled eye i Triumphant saw the reeling phalanx fly ; | And vict'ry's beacon-light begin to bum, j The glorious prelude to his Bannockburn." ■ We niiglit quote many delightful passages from the poem of I " The Covenanters.'" There is scarcely a page that does not j teem with beautiful imafferv, described in lano-uasre forcible and 1 appropriate. The following description of a field-meeting, pre- \ sents a graphic picture of the times : — ! " The heroes of the Covenant, array'd j At once witli Bible and with battle-blade, | Heard no sweet Sabbath-bell announce the day : — Met on the mid, but not in peace, to pray ; Their temple was the deep and shaded del], Where nature's hymns with artless rapture swell. Girded with stream and rock ; while hung on high The sun-illumined vault or starry sky. Here met the gray-hair'd man, the veteran sage, j Rending and trembling on the staff of age ; Enduring manhood, leaning on his sword, i A still, stern listener to the holy word ; ' Tlie youth with dauntless heart and fiery eye. Ere he had learn 'd to live, here Icarn'd to die ; 356 HUGH BROWN. The mother with licr child ; the hlushing maid, Here raised tlio song, and licre together pray'd : Above them on the rock, or mossy mound, I Great Cargill Btood, with years and sufferings crown 'd ; i He stood, his wliito locks streaming in the blast, j Like some prophetic being of tlie past ; I With inspiration's voice denouncing wo > Against the arm that laid his country low ; ! Spread on the flower-clad table of the moss ] The holy sacred Symbols of the Cross ! — : All shed a heaven-like sanctity around, ] And stamp'd it holier yet than classic ground ; And \nih the promise calm'd tlie troubled breast, Pointing the spirit to the Land of Rest : — .; Kindling with heaven-bom light and faith sublime. These exiles triumph'd o'er the ills of time. ' The sentinel, like danger's nursling child, '■ Paced his lone mountain vratch- tower on the wild ; ] Searching with soldier's eye the wastes afar, j Timely to wake the alarum note of war : — When all into a fearless silence died ! | And swords flash'd out with high heroic pride, Hope in the heart, and lightning in the eye, j liike men of many wrongs prepared to die. 'Tis not the peaceful hour when spirits bum — From earth to heaven in glowing rapture turn ; AVith heavenly transport, and an earthless love, j In high seraphic song to God above — I 'Tis danger's hour that gives this loftier tone ; Then thoughts that angels feel become our own ; — ( Glancing around on suffering and decay, i The prison 'd spirit pants to be away." * i The following hymn, embodied in the first canto of the poem, affords an excellent specimen of those musings in which the author i indulged while resident at Drumclog : — ; I " I stood by the Martyr's lonely grave, ' Where the flowers of the moorland bloom ; I Where bright memorials of nature wave 1 * It is due to the author to state, that this description of a field-meeting was written i before he had an opportunity of seeing Harvey's celebrated " Picture of the Cove- j nanters." The poet and the painter have hit on each other's ideas so closely, that the j one might serve .as a very accurate illustration of the other. ' HUGH BROWN. 357 Sweet perfume o'er the sleeping brave, : In his moss-clad mountain tomb ! i I knelt by that ■«ild and lonely spot, Where moulders the heart of one That bled and died, but that blenched not I At the tyrant's chain, or the soldier's shot, ] Till life's last sands had run. j And the vision of other days came back, i When the dark and bloody baud, ' With the might of a living cataract, ISssay'd to sweep in their fiery tract The godly from the land. ' When Zion was far on tlie mountain height, When the wild was the house of prayer ; ■ Where the eye of eternal hope grew bright, | O'er the saint array'd in the warrior's might. For his God and his country there ! I When the barbarous hordes as they onward rode. By the wild and rocky glen, I Have heard, when away from man's abode, A voice that awed like the voice of God, — — 'Twas the hymn of fearless men ! i For the sunless cave was the Martyr's home, i And the damp cold earth his bed ; ] And the thousand lights of the starry dome Were the suns of his path, while doom'd to roam \ O'er the wilds where his brothers bled ! — i i When the clang of the conflict rung on the heath, ' And the watchword of freedom rose Like the tones of heaven, on the saint's last breath, I Far, far o'er the battle notes of death. As he soar'd to his last repose ! — , When he stood by the scaffold, the fagot, and stake. As liis earthly heritage ; I Yet welcomed all for his Master's sake. Whose sword of vengeance should yet awake | To curb their wliirlwind rage. | i The vision pass'd ; but the home is mine. Where the wild bird makes her nest. On the rocky altars and mossy shrine. Where the weeds and flowers of the desert tmiie Round the Martyr's bed of rest. 3o8 HUGH DROWN. Tho lover of freedom can never forget Tlic glorious peasant band — His sires — that on Scotia's moorlands met ; — Each name like a seal on the heart is set, ' The pride of his Fatherland ! " In the miscellaneous department of the volume there are seve- , ral pieces of true poetic merit, and which ought to entitle the i author to a much higher rank in the scale of literature. Among these we have no hesitation in pointing out i " THE MISSIONARY. " 1 Child of a thousand perils, thou, ' With love upon thy dauntless brow, ; And mercy in thine eye, , Wouldst guide the rudest savage clan, , Who claims the brotherhood of man, To peace and rest on high. j Lose, homeless pilgrim of the earth, ; Around thy father's joyous hearth , Thy fond affection clings ; i There thy young lips were taught to pray — j There thy young thoughts were borne away j To great and holier things. i Ah ! that bright home, once strew'd with flowers, | Where love and pleasure lit the hours, ' To memory's light is given ; j Thy brothers are the human race, i Each desert spot thy resting-place, ! Thy home — thy home is heaven. ' I Thy mother wept to part, but there ] The eloquence of earnest prayer, Like balm from heaven, fell ! ; Thy father, with a holy joy, ] Breathed his last blessing o'er his boy, ' With one heart-wrung farewell ! | I The angry whirlwinds that sweep, i Unbridled o'er the Arctic deep. Shall rock him to repose ; j Where man, like earth's lone sentinel, j With ignorance and storms must dwell, I Amid eternal snoT\s. HUGH BROWN. 359 Or, wand'ring o'er yon Southern isles, Where everlasting summer smiles ; But where the swarthy band Howl o'er tlic human sacrifice. That stains the earth, and veils the skies. And shadows all the land. Or, where the Bramiii feeds the fire That forms the widow's funeral pyre. And calls on Brama's name : Who curses Britain, and her God, Who piles the blazing fagot load. And fans the unholy flame. * » » And Afric's sons shall yet be free ; For tlie glad sounds of liberty Are borne across the wave ; AVherever man has found a home. There \rill the Missionai'y roam, And search, and teach, and save. Though toil and danger cloud his path — Though famine stand in league with death, Like Paul, he journeys on. O'er desert, wave, and tainted clime. To woo a guilty world fi-om crime. By love — and love alone. * «■ * Go ! for the good man's pray'rs shall rise ; Go ! for the angel of the skies Smiles o'er each wild abode ; Go ! for the Saviour's word is given. That earth shall echo back to heaven, Hosannah to our God !" Tlie verses to " Desaix" are unaccountably captivating. The spirit of wild enthusiasm Avhich they breathe, is admirably in keeping with the subject : — " DESAIX. ' Whatever of the brave Desaix earth yet holds, reposes on the lone summit of the Alps.' — Dr Memos' Translation of Bourrienne. Still thou sleep'st, sublime and lonely. Within thine Alpine grave ; A sepulchre for warriors only, A death-bed for the brave. 3<>0 HUGH BROWN. There tliy mouldVing warrior form Rests in the regions of tlio storm, Where the unchain'd tempests roam Tlirough their pathless icy home ; And with wild unearthly glee Chant their mountain-dirge o'er thee. While the passing thunder cloud Veils thee with a fiery shroud ; And the thunder's gathering peal Pauses on its heavenly way, While spirits of the tempest kneel Ahove thy grave, Desaix ! No vulgar ashes hlend with thine, 'Neath nature's ice-bound throne ; I would that such a grave were mine, That I might sleep alone. Not all the royal dust that's hid In Egypt's proudest pyramid ; Not thy noble sleep is theirs In famed Athena's sepulchres ; Not where the Roman Csesars rest, Embalm'd within the marble's breast : — These are the common tombs of kings. Where dark-eyed ruin flaps her wings ; O'er each proud sepulchral wondor Of Athens and of Rome ; Where tyrant's mingling ashes slumber, Within death's mould'ring home. But the fleet-wing'd muds of heaven. Pure as a seraph's breath. While o'er their snowy summits driven, Kiss thy abode of death. With thine no despot's ashes rot — With thee the vassal slumbers not ; Mould'ring with unmingled earth, Pure as when nature gave it birth. The churchyard breath from charnell'd bones, Where death hath built his shadowy thrones. Stain not the virgin snows that lie Around thy rest eternally. 'Tis nobler than the ocean tomb A thousand fathoms down, Hid in the dark and stirless gloom. That sand and sea-weed crown. HUGH BROWN. S()l The dariug travellers step may climb Each frowning Alpine steep — May scale the eagle cliff sublime, AVliere Danger loves to sleep — Still shall his lonely footstep treiid Lightly o'er thy grassless bed ; 'Tis like freedom's mountain shrine. Where worship burns and breathes divine, Where no idle thought intrudes 'Mid Nature's voiceless solitudes ; The eagle wheels around thy rest, And hangs his eyrie o'er thy breast. The wanderers from thine own bright land, And Britain's sea-girt isle, Sliall give, as o'er thy grave they stand, A tear-drop and a smile. Brave, where all were brave, he stood, Amid war's hottest strife. And stemm'd red battle's stormy flood, But stemm'd it with his life. With the proud chivalry of France, 'Ncatli the eagle's burning glance, — When the Gallic banner waved, Ere a world was enslaved, — On Marengo's well-fought field, Wliere the Austrian legions reel'd. And the soldier's reeking sword Waved bloodier at her hero's word, — Pall'd in the battle's sulph'rous smoke, He rush'd like Courage on, Witli Liberty's resistless shock, When tyrants are undone. F"ar down the hoary vale of time, Amid the wrecks of fame, Unstain'd by guilt, unstain'd by crime, AVe mark the hero's name. When lime and angry winds have rent His lontly Alpine monument. When no rude relic man shall trace That tells the warrior's resting-place ; Yet while the glowing annals live. That Freedom's blood-red han Are still to some former a hint ; For beauty itself cannot touch. Unless there be sympathy in't." 873 374 HUGH AINSLIE. The following song presents a fine combination of pathos and tenderness : — " MARY. It's dowie in the hint o' hairst At tlio wa'gang o' the swallow, AVlicn the wIhcIs gi'ow caulJ, when the bums grow bauld, An' tlio W'uJs arc liingin' j'cllow ; But, O ! it's dowier far to sec The wa'gang o' her the heart gangs wi' — The dcadsct o' a shining e'c That darkens the weary warl' on thcc. There was mucklc luvc atwccn us twa — O ! twa could ne'er be fonder ; An' the thing on j'ird was never made That could ha'c gar'd us sunder. But the way o' Heav'n's aboon a' ken — An' we maun bear what it likes to sen' — It's comfort though, to weary men, That the warst o' this warl's wacs maun en'. There's mony things tliat come an' gac — Just kent and just forgotten — An' the flow'rs that busk a bonnic brae. Gin anither year lie rotten ; But the last look o' that lovely c'e, An' the dying grip she ga'c to me, They're settled like eternity : — O, Mary ! that I were wi' thee ! " At the end of the volume there is a production of some length, entitled the author''s " Last Lay." It was composed, he tells us, when wandering in Ayrshire by his native stream ; and, besides some allusions to his personal history, shows what were the views and feelings which induced him to seek " a resting-place in the young world of the west." But we are not yet done with the expatriated Bard. What follows we take leave to transcribe from the last of the articles in the Edinburgh Literary Journal before referred to : — " Since Mr Ainslio went to reside in America, nothing of his lias appeared in print on this side of the Atlantic, with the exception of a paper or two in the Newcastle Ma- gazine, which he entitled ' Feelings of a Foreigner in America.' He contributes, how- ever, to American publications ; and ho has, from time to time, transmitted to his HUGH AINSLIE. 375 friends at home poetical cft'usions of great merit, some of which wc have no^v pleasure in making public. We shall begin wth a poem which hears date ' January 25t}ij 1823:'— LINES WRITTEN ON THE ANNIVERSARY OF BURNS' BIRTH-DAY, W7ien ivanderijig belated in the Mountain Passes on tite Frontiers of Vermont. When last my feeble voice I raised To thy immortal dwelling, The flame of friendship round me blazed, On breath of rapture swelling I Now, far into a foreign land, The heav'ns above me scowling. The big bough ^vaving like the wand, The forest caverns liowling ! No kindred voice is in mine car, No heart with mine is beating ; ^ No tender eye of blue is near. My glance of kindness meeting ; But woody mountains, towering rude. Dare heaven with tlicir statures ! 'Tis Nature in her roughest mood, Amidst her roughest features ! Yet thou, who sang'st of nature's charms, In baiTcnness and blossom, , Tliy strain of love and freedom warms The chill that's in my bosom. 5 i And here, where tyranny is mute, 1 And right hath the ascendcncc, j O ! Where's the soil could better suit ] Thy hymn of independence ? I Thou giant 'mong the miglity dead ! Full bowls to thee are flowing ; 1 High souls of Scotia's noble breed '< With pride this niglit are glowing ! In a very difi'crcnt style, but not the less spirited and good, is tlic following song: — I'M LIVING YET. Tliis flesh has been wasted, tliis spirit been vext, Till I've wisird that my deeing day were tlic next : ' But trouble will flee, an' sorrow will flit, ' Sae tent mo, niv lads — I'm living vet ! i 37 G HUGH AINSLIE. Ay, when days were dark, and the nights as grim, When tlic heart was dowft', an' the o'c was dim, At the tail o' the purse, at the end o' my wit, It was time to quit — hut I'm living yet ! Our pleasures are constantly gi'en to disease, An' Hope, poor thing, aft gets dowic, and dies ; While dyestcr Care, wi' his darkest litt. Keeps dipping awa' — but I'm living yet ! A wee drap drink, an' a canty chiel, Can laugh at the warl', an' defy the deil ; Wi' a blink o' sense, ;ui' a flaught o' wit, O ! that's the gear's kept me living yet ! In a similar spirit is A DECEMBER DITTY. The merry bird o' simmer's flown, Wi' his bravo companions a' ; Grim Winter has the green leaf stown, An' gifted us the snaw. The big bough sings a dowie sang As it swings in the deep'ning drift : An' the glint o' day just creeps alang The ledge o' the leaden lift. But awa' wi' words in wintry weed, An' thoughts that bode o' ill ! What ! are we o' the forest breed, To dow wi' the daffodill ? Let's roose up, merry days we've seen, When carping Care was dumb ; Let's think on flowers an' simmers green — There's Julys yet to come ! Though my lair is in a foreign land. My frien's ayont the sea, There's fushion in affection's band To draw them yet to me ! The pensive vein of thought which runs through the following poem, contrasts well with the above : — LINES WRITTEN BY THE RIVER SIDE. Sweet, sober, solitary nook. Where many an hour I stole. To read, as in a wiitten book. The records of niv soul ! HUGH AINSLIE. 377 Oft when the morn came down the clcugh, To gild thy waters clear, And birds set up their merry sough, Thou'st found me pondering here. And when the sun lay in the west, And dewdrops sought the flower. The gowau'd sward I've often prcss'd Within thy hazel bower ; Sending my weary spirit fortli Through wilds that lay before, And wishing they might be more smooth Than those I've wander'd o'er. These days are done, and I draw near My last fond look to take, And think of one who often here Will wander for my sake. And when cold winter's blasting look Bids summer's sweets depart. She'll see within tliis wither'd nook An emblem of my heart ! * * » * « We shall give our readers at present only one more specimen of Mr Ainslie's abili- ties. It is a Scotch song of great merit : — DAFT DAYS. ' The midnight hour is clinking, lads. An' the douce an' the decent are winking, lads, Sae I tell ye again, Be't weel or ill ta'en. It's time ye were quitting your drinking, lads.' ' Gae ben an' mind your gantry, Kate, Gie's mair o' your beer and less bantry, Kate ; For we vow whar we sit, That afore we shall flit. We'll be better acqutnt wi' your pantry, Kate. ' The daft days are but be^nning, Kate, An' we've sworn (wad ye ha'o us be sinning, Kate ?) By our faith an' our houp. We shall stick by the stoup As lang as a barrel keeps riiining, Kate. * The " nook" mentioned in the above is situated on the river Esk, near Roslin. It was a favourite liaimt nf tlic iiutlior. 3 n 378 HUCill AINSLIE. ' Through spring an' through simmer we moil it, Kate, Through hay an' tlirough harvest wc toil it, Kate ; Sao ye ken, whan the wheel Is beginning to squeal, It's time for to grease or to oil it, Kate. ' Then score us another drappy, Kate, An' gie us a cake to our cappy, Kate ; For, by spigot an' pin, It were mair tlian a sin To flit when we're sitting sae happy, Kate.' " Thus far the clever and kindly critic of the year 1829. The following touching effusion, which has been communicated to us in manuscript, exhibits our author in a very amiable light : — " TO MY WIFE AND LITTLE ONES, Written at Neiv York, duri/ig Sickness. The friendly greeting of our kind. Or gentler woman's smiling. May sooth a weai-y wand'rcr's mind, Some lonely hours beguiling ; — May charm the restless spirit still, The pang of grief allaying ; — But, ah ! the soul it cannot fill. Or keep the heart from straying. O ! how the fancy, when unbound, On wings of rapture swelling. Will Juirry to the holy ground Where loves and friends are dwelling. My lonely and my widow'd wife, Hqw oft to thee I wander ! And live again those hours of life, When mutual love was tender. And now with sickness lowly laid. All scenes to sadness turning. Where will I find a breast like thine, To lay the biow that's burning ? And how'st with you my little ones.'' How have those cherubs thriven. That made my hours of leisure light, That made mv home like luaven .' HUGH AINSLIE. 379 Does yet the rose array your checks, As when in grief I blcssVl you ? Or are your cherry lips as sweet, As when with tears I kiss'd you ? Does yet your broken prattle tell — Can your young memories gather A thought of him who loves you well — Your weary, wand'ring father ? O ! I've had wants and wishes too, This world has choked and chill'd ; Yet bless me but again with you. And half my prayer's fulfill'd." Mr Ainslie well deserves the space we have devoted to him. In addition to the slight criticism already made, we cannot help noticing the genuine raciness with which he writes in the Scottish dialect. His language shows that he is " to the manner born," and bears no resemblance to that of many mawkish imitators. Like the writer in the Literary Journal, we conclude with ex- pressing the satisfaction it has afforded us to do some justice to a gifted and estimable man, self-exiled from his country. Should these pages ever meet his eye, we doubt not that it will gratify him to perceive, after an absence of eighteen years, that his genius is not destined to pass unappreciated in his native land, and that his name has found a place in the roll of the Poets of Ayrshire. [Since the beginning of this notice was printed, we have leanit that Mr Ainslie held liis situation in the Registcr-IIouse till the time when he emigrated, and that iic was not engaged in the brewing business in Edinburgh on his own account — he merely resided on the premises of his father-in-law, a brewer, and kept his books. We may also mention, that he was born, not in the village of Dailly, but at Bargany Mains, in the parish of Dailly, and that, when he left his native place, he was only about seven- teen years of age.] 380 REV. HAMILTON PAUL. REV. HAMILTON PAUL. The Rev. Hamilton Paul was bom on tlie lOtli of April 1773, in a neat little cottage* delightfully situated on the right bank of the water of Girvan, about a quarter of a mile from the house of Bargany, in the parish of Dailly and district of Carrick. He received the rudiments of his education at the parish school, and finished his academical studies at the University of Glasgow ; was licensed to preach the gospel in the year 1800, and ordained minister of the united parish of Broughton, Glenholm, and Kil- bucho, in 1813. It is not our intention to enter into a formal history of the reverend gentleman's life. We mean to view him chiefly as a Poet, or a writer of verses. Mr Paul was the College friend and companion of the author of " The Pleasures of Hope." They were both versifiers at that early period, but not rivals in poetical composition. Campbell became a professed poet, Hamilton Paul only an amateur. The two friends entered into a compact not to write on the same subject at the same time, and thus they should avoid becoming competitors for the same prize. When Campbell set about composing " The Pleasures of Hope," Paul wrote a satirical, or rather humorous, Epistle, on the mania which seized the fair sex in Glasgow of attending Philosophical Lectures in Anderson''s Institution, or University, recently opened. When students in the humanity class, they both translated " Claudian's Epithalamium on the Marriage of Honorius and Maria," and both carried the prize. When spending the summer recess of College in Argyleshire, they corresponded in prose and verse. One or two extracts from their epistolary intercourse at this period may not be uninteresting. Campbell complained that his fellow- student wrote too little, and thus exhorted him in one of his epistles : — * Hugh Ainslie wns born in the same (hvclling. REV. HAMILTON PAUL. 381 " Unless you write longer letters and more poems, I will send a formal message to the kind Nymphs of Parnassus, telling them, that whereas Hamilton Paul, their fa- vourite and admired laureate of the North, has hecn heard at divers times and in sundry manners to express his admiration of certain Nymphs in a certain place, and that the said Hamilton Paul has ungratefully and feloniously neglected to speak witli due reverence of the ladies of Helicon ; that said Hamilton Paul shall be deprived of all aid, in future, from these goddesses, and be sent to draw his inspiration from the dry fountain of earthly Beauty ; and that, furthermore, all the favours taken from the said Hamilton Paul shall accrue to the informer and petitioner. • * * * « " I expect you will ^vrite me very soon, and prevent me from giving the intended information to Parnassus, by producing some certain proof that you honour the Muses as formerly. Remember your agreement at parting with your sincere friend, T. C." In a subsequent epistle, Campbell says — " Your verses ' On the Unfortunate Lady' I read with secret pleasure, for ' there is a joy in giief, when peace dwellcth in the breast of the sad.' They are beautifully descriptive of such a situation ; but what lady you allude to, I have not ingenuity to guess. Morose as I am in judging of poetry, I could find nothing inelegant in the whole piece. I hope you ^^ill in your next (since you are such a master of the plain- tive) send me some verses consolatory to a hermit ; for my sequestered situation some- times stamps a firm belief on my mind that I am actually an ancliorile. In return for your welcome poetical effusion, I have nothing at present but a chorus of the Jephthes of Buchanan, written soon after my arrival in Mull : — " Glassy Jordan, smoothly meandering Jacob's grassy meads between ; Lo ! thy waters, gently wandering. Lave thy valleys rich and green. When the winter, keenly show'ring, Strips fair Salem's holy shade, There thy current, broader pouring, Lingers 'mid the leafless glade. When, O ! when, shall light returning. Gild the melancholy gloom ? And the golden star of morning. Yonder solemn vault illume .' When shall Freedom, holy charmer. Cheer my long-benighted soul ? When shall Israel, proud in armour. Burst the tyrant's base control ? &c. " The similarity of the measure with that of your last, made me tliink of sending you this piece. I am much hin-ricd at present with my comedy, the Clouds of Aristo- 382 REV. HAMILTON PAUL. I'hancs. 1 have already finished my Translation of the Chocphora; of ^schylus. I dreamt a dream about you being before Parnassus, upon your trial for sedition and contumacy. I thought Thalia, Clio, &c., addressed you. Their speeches shall be nonsensified into rhyme, and shall bo part of some other scrawl from your affectionate Wend, Thomas the Hermit." These extracts are sufficient to show that the fellow-stiulents Avere on habits of tlic most intimate friendship. When at College, Mr Paul composed a variety of small poems, ■which found their way into newspapers and other periodicals. As the author wrote generally on commission, or at the desire of some friend or lair one, his effusions ought to be entitled verses rather than poems. The specimens we select exhibit a greater versatility of talent and facility of versification, than capacity to reach the sublimcr flights of poetical aspiration. He attempted every kind of subject and every species of measure. " An Advice to a Young Lady fond of displaying herself at her window" — " Fare- well to a College Gown" — " A Description of the Logic Class" — " Translations from the Greek and Latin Classics," with a few amorous ditties, were his exercises at the University. When his " Epistle to the dearly beloved, the Female Disciples," made its appearance, Professor Richardson thus addressed him in a note — ■ " Your poem possesses great merit, in respect of language, fancy, versification ;" and Professor Jardine asked as a favour that he would lend him his " Description of the Logic Class" for a few days. It created a great sensation among the students. Some of Mr PauFs verses having found their way to Invcrary Castle, and Lady Charlotte Campbell (now Lady Charlotte Bury) having expressed a wish to see some more of his pieces, he wrote the ballad entitled the " Maid of Liverary," in honour of that lady, who was much celebrated for her beauty. Some young gentlemen in Campbeltown composed a tune for it, and a young divine wrote an elaborate criticism upon it, pointing out its beau- ties and faults. While at Invcrary, Mr Paul wrote " The Lovely Exile" — " Verses on the High Tide" Avhich had wellnigh swept away the town — " Elegiac Lines on an Unfortunate Lady," alluded to in the letter of Thomas Campbell — " Complimentary Epistle to REV. HAMILTON PAUL. 383 the Rev. John Ferguson (afterwards minister of Uphall) on his marriage" — " A Farewell to the Beauties of Argylc," in the style of Shenstone*'s pastoral ballad — and several other pieces. Having spent two eventful years in the Highlands, and met with many singular adventures among the young and the old, the rich and the poor, the noble and the mean, he and the Poet of Hope resumed their studies at their Alma Mater. It was about this time, on entering the Divinity Hall, that Mr Paul wrote his " Farewell to a College Gown," which was printed in the Glasgow Courier, The Phoemx, and other periodicals — " Palemon and Amanda" — " Kilgrammie, or my True Love's Grave" — " Dal- quhan-an, or the Siclde of the Vale" — " The Hill of Heroes, and other Legendary Tales" — as also " PauPs Epistles," the title of Avhich was considered somewhat profane by one or two divines. Having become a preacher of the gospel, he spent the greater part of his time in Ayrshire, till he was appointed to his present cure. The poetical productions of our author during the thirteen years of his life as a probationer, are almost too numerous for us to name. They found their way into newspapers, magazines, volumes of sermons ; and some of them, in manuscript, might be found in the possession of natives of Scotland, especially of Ayr- shire, on the Lakes of Canada, the Banks of the Hudson and the Rappahannock, the Blue Mountains of Jamaica, and the Plains of Hindostan. His amorous ditties during this period were many, and generally admired by the fairest of judges, who hinted to him their ambition to become the themes of his song. " Helen Gray," " The Maid of Colmonell," " The Lass of Carrick Shore," " The Bonnie Lass of Barr," " Marion," " Jeanie's Awa'," " The Lovely Cottage Maid," and innumerable others, were of this description. In 1801, Burns's friend and patron, John Ballantine, Esq., instituted the Allowa' Club, with the view of regidarly celebrating the anniversary of the Poet's birth. Mr Paul was solicited to furnish an annual ode, which he did for nine years. He was also laureate to the Glasgow Ayrshire Friendly Society, whose annual meeting took place on Burns's anniversary, to whom he presented 384 REV. HAMILTON PAUL. about a dozen of odes, but was present at only one of their meet- ings. When Chalmers, wlio was engaged in preparing his Cale- donia for publication, saw the ninth ode in the Ayr Advertiser^ he wrote from London to Major Webster, saying " I would give all Ayrshire for a copy" of the previous odes. When the author was informed by Major Webster of the request of Chalmers, he said " he would be contented with a single farm." We have seen a kind of concentration of the spirit of the different poems, called " An Irregular Anniversary Ode, sacred to the memory of Burns," in Wilson and M'Cormick's edition of Burns's Poems. This edition has had the merit of calling forth some of the finest specimens of written eloquence that the English language can produce,* directed against, or in favour of, the reverend gentle- man who had the audacity to utter a word in praise of the Bard of Coila. Since the appointment of Mr Paul to the pastoral charge of Broughton, Glenholm, and Kilbucho, he has written a variety of short pieces in verse, and published the " Foretaste of Pleasant Things," " Specimens of a New Metrical Version of the Psalms of David," " Forget me not," " Jeanie o' the Crook," " The Beauty of Lorrain," " The Delicate Refusal," " Lines addressed to the Daughters of Neighbouring Baronets," " Elegiac Verses on the Death of Lord Montgomery, Lady Elizabeth Montgomery, the Earl of Eglinton," " Epistles to Taylor, a brother Bard," and a great number of jeux-cV esprit at convivial meetings, of which hardly any copies are to be procured. When he was joint proprietor and editor of the Ayr Advertiser, he was in the habit of inserting in the columns of that journal occasional metrical productions, and often sent his acceptances or apologies, when invited to parties, in rhyme, almost without premeditation. The most remarkable instance of Mr Paul's facility at versify- ing, is the following : — He preached at Maybole on a Sabbath evening ; and, immediately after sermon, was preparing to set out for Ayr on foot, when two young ladies arrested him, saying, that if he would stay and drink tea with them at the manse, they would Vide Christian Instructor, Blackwood's Magazine, &c. REV. HAMILTON PAUL. 385 set him down at the Aiild Brig of Doon — six miles on his way — as their sister was to send the carriage for them. He was pre- vailed on to stay tea ; but the carriage did not come, as the even- ing was uncommonly fine, and the distance from their brother- in-law's only three miles. However, the Preacher behoved to see the kind-hearted ladies home. They arrived there at nine o'clock ; and no sooner did they enter the hospitable mansion, than the Laird called out — " Supper this instant.'' At eleven o'clock, when the ladies were retiring, the mistress of the family said to the guest — " I will have no peace in my mind, if you leave my house at this late hour, to walk six miles." " I will send you, madam, a line by to-morrow's post, apprising you of my fate." Half an hour before post-time, next day, he took pen in hand to write a short card in prose to the lady who took such an interest in his welfare ; and, lo ! the result : — " My dearest Madam, yesternight I pat you in an unco fright. Lest, as I left your house sac late, I should mistak' or tjme the gate ; And mak' a night erratic tour By Minnieboll, or to Dunure ; Or be by early fisher found, In Doon, va' broken neck, or drown 'd. But, Madam, banish a' sic fear. For safe and sound your minstrel's here, Quite sane, in mind and body baitli. Uninjured by ae waff o' scaith. For, trusting to the care o' Heaven, About ten minutes past eleven, 1 left your hospitable dome, A midnight wanderer to roam. As near to Blairston Parks I drew, An apparition met my view ; 'Twas white as snow, or lady's smock. Or lamb, the pride of fleecy flock. I loutcd down to lift a stano, I raised my head, the thing was gauc ; It was no supernatural wight, But animal that prowls by night ; I'oor puss, perhaps, whom hungcr'R edge InjpcU'd to seek the thorny licdgc, 3"c o8f) REV. HAMILTON PAUL. In liopcs to spoil tlic linnet's rest, Or lieny the goldfinch's nest. To Newark, as 1 trudged along, The wood-lark chcer'd me with his song ; How sweet, how charming arc the notes. As tlirough the air the songster floats ! Sic notes in our new Kirk prevail. When wurblcd by tlie vocal Gale.* Next to the Auld Brig straught I march. And gain the keystane of the arch ; I eyed the ever-restless stream, Where gently play'd the morning hcain. The woods, in gi'een and dusky hue, Half-met, half-faded from my view ; While through the trees, with modest pride, Gleam'd the fair mansion of Doonside, I call'd to mind, with heart subdued, The sleeping beauty in the wood. To Allowa' next my footstep turns. And here I greet the shade of Burns ; I pass the Kirk wi' cannie care. But dcil a deil or witch was there. Next to the cot I hurry on. Intent to wauken drouthy .Tohn ; But fearing, lest, 'twish light and dark, Flora should meet me in her sark, I frae the strong temptation flee, And finish my t/i(jkt crrantrJ/. The corncraiks rail in ilka field. And laverocks sweetest music yield ; 1 reach the town when Wallace' Tow'er Proclaini'd the second morning hour ; But as the guard now winds his horn, My winding up must be forborne ; Accept, dear Ma'am, this hasty scrawl, .Tust WTitten by the hand of Paul ; Let me with love remember'd be By all the Sauchrie family." The above, the work of half an hour, Avas despatched by the post. * The Precentor. REV. HAMILTON PAUL. S87 During the tliree years that Mr Paul superintended the pub- lication of the Ayr Advertiser, he was whirled about in a per- petual vortex of business and pleasure — never a single day with- out company, at home or abroad. If he could obtain three or four hours' sleep out of the four-and-twenty, he was satisfied. He was a member of every Club — chaplain to every Society — had a free ticket to every concert and ball, and was a welcome guest at almost every table — preached frequently in town and country, and taught Latin and French to grown up Masters and Misses. It was previous to his connexion with the newspaper that he published his poem on " Vaccination, or Beauty Pre- served," and several smaller productions. When chaplain to the battalion of Riflemen or Sharpshooters, he sometimes addressed to the corps martial strains of a patriotic description. Hamilton Paul, during the early part of his literary and cleri- cal career was tutor in five different families, and assistant to about as many parish ministers ; but, viewing him only as a Poet, we omit noticing his prose works or pulpit exhibitions. A Professor of Divinity in one of our large towns has stated, that while he was ]\Ir PauFs class-fellow and fellow-lodger, he saw him begin to compose a Latin oration at ten o'clock on Friday night, which he finished at seven on Saturday morning, without opening a dic- tionary ; and, not having time to transcribe it, delivered it from the pulpit at nine o'clock that day, and carried the prize, although some of his competitors had spent the preceding summer in pre- paring theirs. Though often solicited to publish sermons, he complied only once. Of the numerous poetical effusions of Mr Paul, want of space prevents our giving more than one or two specimens : — " HELEN GRAY. Fair are the fleecy flocks that feed On yonder heath-clad hills. Where wild meandering crystal Tweed Collects his glassy rills. And sweet the huds that scent the air. And deck the breast of May ; But none of these are sweet or fair, Compared to Helen firay. .388 REV. HAMILTON PAUL. You SCO in Helen's face so mild, And in lier bashful mien, The winning softness of the child, The blushes of fifteen. Her witching smile, when prone to go. Arrests nic, bids nic stay ; Nor joy, nor comfort can I know, When reft of Helen Gray. I little thouglit the dark-brown moors, The dusky mountain's shade, Down which the wasting torrent pours, ConcealM so sweet a maid ; When sudden started from the plain A sylvan scene and gay. Where, pride of all the virgin train, I first saw Helen Grav. 'May never Envy's venom'd breath Blight thee, thon tender flower ! ', And may thy head ne'er droop beneath ! Affliction's chilling shower ! ! Though I the victim of distress i Must wander far away ; - | Yet, till my dying hour, I'll bless ] The name of Helen Gray. ' ADDITIONAL STANZA, Addressed to Miss Georgina Craavford of Doonside, on hearing her sing the above. \ And thou, dear maid, thy mellow throat, J Like wood-lark's, sweetly tune ; i And bid the breezes bear each note | Along the banks of Doon. I The nymph of Tweed adorn 'd by thee, i Will shine in best array ; j While, fondly listening, I shall be ]\Iorc charm 'd with Helen Gray." ; i The subject of the poem is still flourishing in health iind beauty, j but the songstress is sleeping in the dust. i " THE BONNIE LASS OF BARR. j Written at the suggestion of the Reiu Charles Cunningliam, Minister of Dailly. Of streams that down the valley run, Or through the meadow glide, ! REV. HAMILTON PAUL. 389 Or glitter to the summer sun, The Stinshar* is the pride. 'Tis not his banlcs of verdant hue, Though famed they be afar ; Nor grassy hill, nor mountain blue, Nor flower bcdropt with diamond dew ; 'Tis she that chiefly charms the view. The bonnie Lass of Barr. When rose the lark on early wing, The vernal tide to hail ; ' When daisies declc'd the breast of spring, I sought her native vale. The beam that gilds the evening sky, And brighter morning star. That tells the king of day is nigh, With mimic splendour vainly try To reach the lustre of tliine eye. Thou bonnie Lass of Barr. The sun behind yon misty isle. Did sweetly set yestreen ; But not his parting dewy smile Could match the smile of Jean. Her bosom swell'd witli gentle wo, Mine strove with tender war. On Stinshar's banks while wild woods grow ; While rivers to the ocean flow ; With love of thee my heart shall glow, Thou bonnie Lass of Barr." In former days, it was customary for the clergy, at Presbytery dinners, to give song about. When Mr Paul was called upon in his turn to give one, the father of the Presbytery said — " It must be your own composition." Mr Meek, minister of Dun- syre, was on the right hand of the croupier, (Mr Paul,) and had been recently married to Miss Barbara Mark. It was his first appearance at the Presbytery after his marriage, and he was fined in a bottle of wine. The author thus began to recite his song, almost extempore : — " O ! sirs, what is this has occurrVl at Dunsyrc, That has set a' yon side o' the country on fire ? * Tlic Englisli read it StinlMr, wliich induccil I$iiriis to iliangc tiic name to that of Liiriar. Oirvan was tlic stream meant bv Burns. ''^^^ REV. HAMILTON PAUL. And tlie priest, too, the spark that has kindled the flame ; For the day lie was married his Babby cam' hamc. But, Willie, dear callan, O ! fash na your thoom, Though IVien's at a distance M'ha hear it should gloom ; Your face needua flush wV the blushes o' shame, Though the day ye were married your Babby cam' hame. We a' wad ha'e thought you a short-sighted spark. After aiming sac w'ecl, had you missed your Mark ; We fine you, 'tis true, but we daurna you blame, Thougli the day ye were married your Babby cam' liame. Ere a twalmonth gacs round, (though nae s]iacman am I) — But drap na a tear though your Babby should cry — I will venture to wad onie sum ye can name, We shall hear that your dear Babby 's baby's come hame." The last line proved prophetical. John Balfour, Esq. of Sauchrie, and Hamilton Boswell, Esq. of Garrallan, came to the author one morning, in a state of great excitement. " What do you think," said they, " the Road Trus- tees have done ? They have sold the Auld Brig o' Doon as a quarry to the contractor for the New Bridge. You must devise means to save the Auld Brig from demolition, and that immedi- ately." Mr Paul wrote the " Petition of the Auld Brig o' Doon," Avhich was printed and circulated throughout the county ; and in two or three days, ten noblemen and gentlemen subscribed a hundred guineas, and others smaller sums, in order to re-purchase the materials of the Auld Brig and to keep it in repair. The subscriptions, we believe, were never paid, the Trustees having allowed the contractor for the New Bridge to open a quarry else- where. Some dozen of years after, the water of the Doon had encroached so much on the buttresses of the AuldBrifr, as to threaten its overthrow. Mv David Auld, an enthusiast in the cause of Burns, applied to a new set of Trustees for money to prevent the menaced ruin of the ancient fabric ; but they told him that as it was only a private footpath, they would not be jus- tifiable in giving the public money for any such purpose. Mr Auld then produced the Petition which had formerly saved the Brig, of the existence of which they Avere ignorant ; on reading REV. HAMILTON TAUL. 391 which they contributed out of their own pockets as much money as put the fine old arch in a complete state of repair. The Peti- tion was published in Chambers's Journal, No. 54-, and in Hogg and MotherwelFs edition of Burns, copied from Chambers. It is as follows : — " PETITION OF THE AULD BRIG O' DOON. Must I, like modern fabrics of a day. Decline, unwept, the victim of decay ? Shall my bold arch, which proudly stretches o'er Doon's classic stream, from Kyle to Carrick's shore, Be suflcrVl in oblivion's gulf to fall, And hurl to wreck my venerable wall ? Forbid it, ev'ry tutelary power, That guards my keystone at the midnight hour ; Forbid it ye, who, charm'd by Burns's lay, Amid those scenes can linger out the day. Let Nanny's sark and Maggy's mangled tail Plead in my cause, and in that cause prevail. The man of taste who comes ray form to see, And curious asks, but asks in vain for me ; With tears of sorrow will my fate deplore, When he is told ' the Auld Brig is no more.' Stop, then ; O ! stop, the more than Vandal rage That marks this revolutionary age. And bid the structure of your fathers last, T!ie pride of this, the boast of ages past ; Nor ever let your children's children tell. By your decree the fine old fabric fell. Or, secondly. By vo\u- neglect the fine old fabric fell." It would be no difficult matter to fill a volume with selections from the numerous effusions of our author, embracing every variety of subject, the gi-ave, the gay, the witty, and the senti- mental ; but our limits will not admit of farther quotation. His poetical correspondents were numerous. The letters from Mr Taylor, already alluded to, are in a very happy and humorous strain. From the specimens given, it is evident the author might have executed some work of utility ; and perhaps it is not yet too late to expect something valuable from his pen. A reverend Doctor once told him that, if ho could be' shut up in a prison, 392 ARCHIBALD M'KAY. like George Buchanan in the cells of the Inquisition, he might rival the poet and Scottish historian. Otherwise, we may con- clude our remarks in the words of Mr Dunlop's* epitaph on Douglas Duke of Hamilton — " O, gifts neglected ! talents misapplied ! " except in the composition of sermons. ARCHIBALD M'KAY, AUTHOR OF " DROUTHY TAM," &c. The author of the above graphic " tale in verse," and several other popular poems, was born at Kilmarnock in 1801. At school he received the common rudiments of education, and was early apprenticed to the trade of weaving. Fond of reading, he assiduously devoted his leisure hours to the acquisition of know- ledge ; and, by attending private classes, succeeded in attaining a pretty accurate knowledge of English grammar and the prin- ciples of composition. The constant fluctuations to which weav- ing has been subject, since the termination of the last war, and the low price of labour even when business is comparatively good, led him to seek after a more congenial and profitable employ- ment. Having obtained some instruction in the art of book- binding, he soon became so good a tradesman as to be able to commence working on his own account ; and in this line still con- tinues to prosecute business in his native place. We have to speak of Mr M'Kay, however, in another light than that of an ingenious mechanic — he is a Poet ; and well en- * John Dunlop, Esq., author of " Here's to the Year that's Awa'," wrote a heau- tiful epitaph on the Duke of Hamilton. ARCHIBALD M'KAY. 393 titled to occupy a place among the Bards of Ayrsliire. His first publication, " Drouthy Tarn," Avhich appeared in 1828, was so well received, that it was found necessary, in the course of a few Aveeks, to publish a second edition. It has since gone through a third ; and has, we understand, again become scarce. About two thousand copies, in whole, of the poem have been sold. The popularity and success of " Drouthy Tam," is, without doubt, to be ascribed as much to the attractive nature of the subject, and the local circumstances connected with it, as to any originality or depth of poetic genius it possesses. The poem, suited to the capacities of every reader, however, is of that peculiar kind that takes a retentive hold of the memory, and is, on that account, destined to hold a place in the public mind when more laboured productions will have sunk into oblivion. Although the poem can be best appreciated by those who reside in the locality where the characters who figure in it are known ; yet, like Wilson's " Watty and Meg," and M'NeiFs " Will and Jean," it will suit the taste and please the fancy of every " son of Caledonia." Some of the stanzas are not inferior to those of M'Neil or Wilson ; and the moral which it inculcates is' as forcibly delineated as that of " Scotland's Skaith." The hero, Drouthy Tam, and the other members of the " drucken squad" — " Pate the Pedlar, Tailor Rab, and Ringan Gray; Hab the Nailer, Jock the Fiddler, Wabstcr Will, and moriy mac" — are well hit off. Some of them are alive, and still reside in " auld Killie," as busily intent on the intoxicating pleasures of the dram- shop as ever. An individual accosting Wabster Will lately at the Cross of Kilmarnock — the favourite haunt of the squad — among other questions, asked him how long he had been on the " fuddle," to which the wight promptly replied, " that he had never been sober since the battle of Waterloo !" The writings of our author, though producing little or no cflT^ct on the corps themselves, have doubtless restrained many from fol- lowing in their footsteps. The friends of temperance, consc- 8 u 394 ARCHIBALD M'KAY. quently, owe him a debt of gratitude as the first advocate of their cause in Ayrshire. The reasoning of the philosopher, and the cahn reflection of the moralist, are interwoven in the poem with the drunken clamour and midnight brawl of the ale-house. The scene in Watty's is well depicted : — " In they gaed ae night to Watty's, Ho^vf o' mony a drucken spree, Tauld their cracks, and sung their ditties, 'Midst the charms o' barley bree. Usquebae and warming nappy Brighteu'd ev'ry face \vi' glee ; Ilka heart was blythe and happy, Gladness beam'd in ilka e'e. Neist the ingle sat the n.oiler, Wi' his crony Pedlar Pate, • Thrang debating wi' the tailor 'Bout the taxes o' the state. Hab, deep read in liist'ry's pages, Spak' o' times when men were free ; Spak' o' wars and Roman sages Wha Oppression scorn'd to dree ; Spak' o' days when Bruce and Wallace Nobly bang'd their southron foes ; When on Scotland's hills and valleys Freedom's banner proudly rose ; Prick-the-Louse, in words prophetic, Spak' o' years o' coming bliss ; — ' Ah !' said Hab, wi' voice pathetic, ' Time can but our wants increase. ' If taxation, debt, and slavery. Happiness to man can gie ; If enjoyment flow frae knavery. Then we yet may happy be.' Up gat Tammie in a passion — Deep disputes he couldna bear — ' Quit your bleth'ring on taxation, Let us drink — our hearts to cheer. ' Politics may yield a pleasure, But the magic o' the glass ARCHIBALD M'KAY. 395 Charms the social hours o' leisure, Fills the heart •wi' sweeter bliss. ' Noble souls are they that prize it — Social lovers o' their kind ; Nane but fools wad e'er despise it — Whisky elevates the mind.' While he spak' this random blether 'Bout the charms o' usquebae, Into Watty's flew his mither, Wi' a look o' deepest wae. ' Tam,' quoth she, ' O ! cease thy sinnin" ; Cease thy vile unhallow'd strains, Meg, puir thing, this waefu' c'enin' Bore to thee twa helpless weans. ' Great, alas ! is her ve.xation — Thochts o' thee increase her grief ; Haste, and yield her consolation ; Her distress demands relief.' But our hero — now unfeeling — Lawgh'd to scorn her tale so sad ; And, in dissipation reeling, Thus address'd the dnicken squad : — ' Come, my billies, seize your glasses, Drink the purest joys can gie ; Let us now forget distresses — Let us spend the night in glee.' Then the blythesome soun' o' gladness Through the yill-house loudly rang ; Fled was ilka thocht o' sadness. Nought but mirth was them amang. Ringan in a neuk was singing, Jock his fiddle tuned wi' glee, Watty in the drink was bringing, Laughin' loud the fun to see. Tammie, cheerfu' and unthinkin'. Sent the flowing glasses roun' ; Sic a nicht o' sport and drinkin' Ne'er was seen in Killic town." 396 ARCHIBALD M'KAY. In 1832, Mr M'Kay published a small volume of poems, which met a good reception from the public. Among the pieces in this volume is the poem of Allan and Helen, which bears a striking resemblance, in the fluency and sweetness of its versification, to the popular old ballad of " Sir James the Rose." Full of dra- matic point, it has been recited with much success at various places of entertainment throughout Ayrshire ; and has earned for its author considerable local reputation. As a specimen of the song-writing of our author, we ex- tract " MY AULD UNCLE AVATTY. Tune — Bonnie Dundee. O ! weel I ha'e mind o' my auld uncle Watty, When but a bit callan I stood by liis knee, Or clamb the big chair, where at e'enin' he sat aye ; He made us fu' blythe wi' his fun and his glee : For O ! he was knackie, and coutliic, and crackie, Baith humour and lair in his noddle had he — The youths o' the clachan he'd keep a' a-laughin'. Wi' his queer observations and stories sae slee. The last Hogmanay that we met in his cottie. To talk owre the past, and the nappy to prec. Some auld-farrant sangs, that were touchin' and witty, He sung, till the bairnies were dancin' wi' glee ; And sync in the dance, like a youngster o' twenty. He lap and he flang wi' auld Nannie Macfce — In a' the blythe meeting nae ane was sae canty, Sae jokin', sae gfibby, sae furthy, and free. And O ! had ye seen him that e'enin' when Rory Was kipplcd to Maggie o' Riccarton Mill ; Wi' jokes rare and witty he kept up the glory, Till morning's faint glimmer was seen on the hill. O ! he was a body, when warm'd wi' the toddy, Whasc wit to ilk bosom enchantment could gie ; For fiinnin' and daffin', and punnin' and laughin', Tliroughout the hale parish nae equal had he. But worn out at last wi' life's cares and its labours, He bade an adieu to his frien's a' sae dear. And sunk in death's sleep, sair bewail'd by his neebors, Wha yet speak liis praise, and his mcm'ry revere. ARCHIBALD M'KAY. 397 Whar slumbers the dust o' my auld auntie Matty, We dug him a grave wi' the tear in our e'e ; And there laid the bancs o' my auld uncle Watty, To moulder in peace by the big aiken-tree." Possessed of a correct ear, Mr M'Kay has made several suc- cessful attempts in blank verse. The following little fragment is among the latest of his productions : — " A WISH. Give me the friend whose inmost soul delights In othei's'' weal, and mourns for others' wo ; Who no distinction sees 'tween man and man, Save that which virtue has alone created ; AVho looks beyond tlic tics of blood or home, And views each human being as a brother. Give me the friend whose eye, enraptured, scans The rich, the boundless, varied chai-ms of nature ; Who, in the meanest flower that scents the gale, Beholds the power and majesty of God, And finds materials for lofty thought In all that meets his captivated gaze. Give me the friend whose mind has been enlarged At sober Contemplation's sacred shrine ; Who frequent cons the glowing classic page With all a poet's fervency and joy. And, through this blissful medium, communes With bards and sages of departed years. Give me the friend whose heart hath felt the bliss That Science to her votaries imparts ; Who loves to roam excursive after truth, And sees, where'er he turns his thoughtful eye. The wisdom and benevolence of Him ' Who at a word spoke all into existence,' Yes ! give me such a friend, with whom to shai-e The rural walk on summer's silent eve, Or hold sweet converse by the blazing liearth, When winter, wrapt in storms and tempests, reigns ; Then, though my lot in penury be cast. The charms of calm Contentment will be mine." But Mr M'Kay is, perhaps, a better prose writer than he is a 398 JAMES STIRRAT. - Poet ; and, if fortune had been more propitious to liira at the outset of his career, his talent might have secured for him a much higher and more intellectual mode of life. Some years ago, a debating club was instituted in Kilmarnock, called " The Forensic Society." Mr M'Kay, who was a mem- ber of this club, for some time held the office of secretary, and produced several essays on political and other subjects, which, displaying the fertile sources of his well-cultivated mind, gained for him tlie friendship and esteem of all. JAMES STIRRAT. James Stirrat, one of the most enthusiastic admirers of the Ayrshire Poet, and who has celebrated his praise in several songs and odes of no ordinary merit, is well known in the district of Cunningham for his poetical taste and genius, several of his songs and minor pieces having appeared in various periodicals. He was bom in Dairy in 1781, of which place he is now postmaster. His father, the late James Stin-at, merchant in Dairy, was a man of respectable character, and had considerable talents for business. The subject of the present memoir was educated at the parish school of Dairy, and early showed an inclination to cultivate the Muse. When he was about seventeen years of age, he composed several pieces on subjects of a local and personal character, which evinced no small degree of power, and were much admired among his fidends. He has written songs to several popular Scottish melodies, which only require to be known to ensure popularity ; but, though often solicited, he has hitherto declined coming before the public, in his own name, as an author. We have been fa- voured with a perusal of a collection of his pieces, in manuscript, and hope that at some future period it will be added to the stores of the provincial Muse. As a proof of Mr Stirrafs admiration JAMES STIRRAT. 399 ] i for Burns, we may mention that he wrote songs for the Anniver- | sary of the Poet, for the years 1827, 1828, 1829, and 1880, all j of which are conceived in excellent taste, and have an originality j which many of the productions on similar occasions confessedly want. We are sui'e our readers will be much gratified with the ; following song, written for the Anniversary of 1829 : — ! Am — There's nae luck about the house. " There's nae bard to charm us now, j Nae bard ava, '' Can sing a sang to Nature true Since Coila's bard's awa. ' The simple harp o' earlier days In silence slumbers now ; And modern art, wi' tuneless lays, '' Presumes the Nine to woo. \ But nae bard in a' our Isle, ! Nae bard ava, * Frae pauky Coila wons a smile : Since Robin gaed awa. His hamely style let Fashion spurn ; \ She wants baith taste and skill ; ; And wiser should she ever turn, ^ She'll sing his sangs hersel'. >| For nae sang sic pathos speaks, j Nae sang ava ; And Fashion's foreign rants and squeaks < Should a' be drumm'd awa. Her far-fetcli'd figures aye maun fail To touch the feeling heart. Simplicity's direct appeal Excels sic learned art. And nae modem minstrel's lay, Nae lay ava, Sae powerfully the heart can sway As Robin's that's awa. For o'er his numbers Coila's muse A magic influence breathed, And round her darling poets brows A peerless crown had wreath 'd. 400 JAMES STIRRAT. And n :iiii opinion was the law, Witlioutcii feed ; Tlie world to liiiu were madmen a', lint now }ie's dead ! " Several auuising anecdotes are told of the })liilosophcr and his scepticism. Happen- ing to go into a bookseller's shop one day in Ayr, he met a clergyman of his acquaint- ance at the door. '\What have you been doing here.^" jocularly inquired Goldie. *• Just buying a few ballads," retorted the minister, " to make psalms to your Bible." At one period the neighbourhood of Kilmarnock was much alarmed by some strange occurrences at a farm-house named Deanscraft. During the night the most unearthly voices were heard, fire was seen, and the cattle, though ever so (irmly bound to their stakes at night, were sure to be loose before morning, bellowing and goring each other ; and yet the ropes did not appear to have been untied by mortal hand, but evidently parted without the appliance of force of any kind. This continued for several weeks, and no trace of any incendiary could be found. In short, it was believed by the people of the house and the country generally, that the Devil had obtained a commission to torment them. The tricks of the " Beanscraft Deil" were in every mouth, and the facts were frequently urged against Goldie's doctrine, as a proof that there was such a spirit in exist- ence as4he Prince of Darkness. The philosopher was so much annoyed on the subject, that he at last consented to go to Beanscraft, and confront the foul fiend to his face. Accompanied by the Rev. Mr Gillies of Kilmaurs, and Mr Robert Muir, wine-merchant, he accordingly set out for Beanscraft ; and, on arriving, found the gudewife pouring very intently over the Bible, and her countenance betokening excess of grief. He demanded a sight of the ropes by which the cattle had been bound, and, after carefully examining them for a little, he said, " Ay, ay, I see — the Deil has na had muckle to do this while, I think ; his whittle's been gey an sair rusted." He discovered that aqua-fortis had been applied to the rope ; and this at once confirmed him in the belief that the whole was the trick of some malicious individual. According to his instructions a watch was placed over the premises at night ; and sure enough the Devil was caught in the person of the farmer's son, who had resorted to this extraordinary method of frightening his father out of the farm, that he might obtain the lease ! The fellow was so much af- fronted at the discovery, that he fled from Scotland ; and, all remaining quiet in future at Beanscraft, the philosopher gained no small credit for his knowledge and penetration. Mr Goldie was about five feet seven and a half inches in height, and uncommonly stout and well proportioned. The portrait taken from the original, painted by Mr Whitehead, an Edinburgh artist, is an admirable likeness. He was about seventy years of age at the time. In 1809, having occasion to be in Glasgow, the old man caught a severe cold by sleeping in a damp bed, which so much impaired his robust constitu- tion, that, after lingering on a bed of sickness for about three weeks, he at length ex- pired in the ninety-second year of his age. He retained his mental faculties to the last, firmly maintaining those sentiments in religion and philosophy, which had render- ed his name, at least, so locally famous. He left a great many manuscripts, and letters from Burns and other men of celebrity with whom he communicated ; but during the absence of his son. Lieutenant Goldie, who entered the navy in 1803, and returned on half-pay at the close of the war, all his papers had been made away with or destroyed. Amongst these was a letter from Lord Kames, which would have been regarded as a valuable relic at the present day. APPENDIX. 9 WILLIAM PEEBLES, D.D. The Rev. William Pebbles, upwards of forty years minister of the Newton parish, AjT, was a poetical contemporary of Burns, and had tlie honour of being satirized both in the " Holy Fair" and the " Kirk's Alarm." In the first of these poems, he is alluded to as a preacher of much primness of manner : — " In guid time comes an antidote Against sic poisonM nostrums ; For Peebles, frae the water-fit,* Ascends the holy rostrum : See, up he's got the word of God — And meek and mim has view'd it." In the latter, his poetical pretensions are scouted \\itli all the coarseness which some- times disfigures the wit of the Plougliraan Bard : — " Poet Willie, Poet AVillic, Gie the Doctor a volley Wi' your liberty's chain an' your wit,f O'er Pegasus' side Ye ne'er laid a stride, Ye but smelt, man," &c. Dr Peebles was a native of Aberdeenshire. He was first engaged in the west coun- try as an assistant at Dundonald. Though never what might be termed a great I)reacher, his discourses were always chaste in point of style and arituigemcnt, and de- livered with much emphasis and feeling. He had a very considerable turn for poetical composition. One of his earliest publications was a translation of " the Davidcis of Cowley, which some of his brethren, not exactly understanding what he meant, took the liberty of calling Dr Peebles's Daft Ideas.'"' % The " Kirk's Alarm," by Burns, W'as written in 1789, as a satire on the clergy of Ayrshire, in reference to the case of Dr William M'Gill, one of the parochial ministers of Ayr, which created a great sensa- tion at the time. As is well known, Dr M'Gill was charged with entertaining Sucinian opinions, to whicli he had given publicity in a pamphlet, published in 1786, under the title of " A Practical Essay on the Death of Jesus Christ." In preaching a Cen- tenary sermon on the Revolution in 1788, Dr Peebles openly denounced the pamphlet as heretical. This led to a printed reply on the part of Dr M'Gill ; and the aflair was shortly after taken up by the Presbytery, and next by the Synod of Glasgow ami .\yr. Tlie case was ultimately settled amicably, M'Gill having a])ologized for tin- Irouhlc ho had occasioned, and declared his .adherence to orthodo.x principles. The pointed and biting sarcasm of Burns had no effect in cooling the poetical tein- * The water of Ayr joins the sea at Ayr, and divides the new and the old towns. Hence the phrase, " frae the water-fit." + This alludes to a poem by Peebles on tlie Centenary of the Revolution, in wliich the following line, much ridiculed at the time, occurs : — " And bound in Liberty's endearing c/ww." X Vide Ch.ainbers's edition of Burns. b 1 APPENDIX. perament of the Rev. Doctor. In 1804, he publisheJ " The Crisis ; or, the Progress of Revolutionary Principles," a poem, in three books, forming a thin octavo volume, dedicated to the late Earl of Eglinton, then Lord- Lieutenant of the county of Ayr. The country was at that period labouring under the dread of French Invasion ; and the object of " The Crisis" M-as to rouse tlic juitriotism of the people. The poem em- braces an outline of the most impressive events connected with the atrocities of the French Revolution, and was well calculated to inspire a hatred of the reign of ten'or which succeeded the downfall of monarchy in France. Dr Peebles's next publication was a small volume of poems, consisting chiefly of odes and elegies, printed in Glasgow by R. Chapman in 1810. Besides these works, the reverend author published one or two volumes of sermons, which were pretty well received, especially amongst his con- gi-egation, by whom he was very generally esteemed. Dr Peebles was, on the whole, neither indifferent as a poet nor a preacher ; and every allowance must be made for the satire of Bums. He was regarded as a man of warm and amiable feelings ; but, with advancing years, habits of parsimony gained upon him, and the credit due to his benevolence of sentiment was limited by the power which avarice exercised over him. Several anecdotes are told illustrative of his character in this respect ; but we prefer recording an incident in his ministerial capacity, not ge- nerallv known, highly creditable to his feelings. It occurred in his latter years ; but even then he had lost none of that fire which sometimes animated his orations. The ease was this : — A young woman belonging to his congregation had unfortunately erred ; and, before receiving church privileges, she behoved to make amends by submitting to a public rebuke — for at that time the " repentance stool" was regarded as a most essen- tial adjunct to discipline. Ilcr lover, however, setting the influence of the Kirk-session at defiance, refused to apologize in any manner for his conduct ; and to show his utter contempt, not only for the Church, but for the ruined girl who had listened to his false promises, he resolved to witness her contrition, and gloat over the blushes of her shame, by attending the church on the day of her rebuke. He accordingly took his seat — which was a front one — as usual ; and when the poor girl stood up at the desire of the minister, he was seen to smile while he gazed on her abashed and downcast countenance. Peebles was observant of his unmanly conduct, and felt strongly excited by it. Turn- ing from the " fair penitent," and fixing his eyes sternly on her deceiver, he addressed him in a voice of unusual sonorousness and power — " And you, J R , rise also • for though you have not come voluntarily forward to confess your transgression, you are nevertheless the more guilty of the two. I say, J R , stand up and be rebuked ! " All eyes were instantly withdrawn from the young woman, and directed to the seat of the nonplussed and astonished Lothario, who, crestfallen, could have crept into a nutshell had it been possible. Again tlie minister repeated his command in a tone still more authoritative — the culprit looked round in despair — he would have fled, but the church was crowded, and no one seemed willing to make way for him. At length he rose, with a countenance so deeply flushed as to bespeak the mental torture under which he was suffering, and, to the evident satisfaction of the congrega- tion, was made the object of one of the most severe castigations they had ever heard from the pulpit. Dr Peebles died in October ]82n. APPENDIX. 1 1 JAMES HUMPHRY. James Humphry, on whom Burns wrote the well-known epitaph — " Below thir stance lie Jamie's banes : Oh Death ! it's my opinion. Thou ne'er took such a bleth'rin' b-tch Into thy dark dominion ! " — is still living, though far advanced in years. After a long and laborious life, chequered by not a few misfortunes, James — for many yeai's a widower, and his family grown up and settled in distant parts of the country — has at length found an abiding-place at Failford, near Mauchline, where a very neat range of buildings was erected a few years ago, in conformity with the will of the late Mr Smith of Smithston, who bequeathed a sum to be expended in the maintenance of a certain number of destitute aged people — one half from the parish of Mauchline, and the other from Tarbolton. In early life, James was intimate witli Bums, and indeed with the whole family. He was bom at a place called Cairngillan, about half a mile from Tarbolton, and was of course extensively acquainted in the parish. Being a stone-mason to trade, he was frequently employed in that capacity botli at Mosgiel and Lochlea. Possessed of a great flow of animal spirits, and a ready tongue, he was esteemed a very amusing sort of personage ; while his knowledge of books and taste for reading, vastly superior to the general mass of persons in his sphere of life at the time, recommended him to the particular notice of the Poet ; and they used to indulge in innumerable bantering discussions — the subject generally of a polemical character. One day Bmiis said to him — " James, you that ai-e a brother of the compass and squai-e, can you tell me what like the PjTamids of Egj'pt are.'" James felt rather puzzled how to couch his reply ; but, seldom at a loss for a ready answer, he immediately said — " 'Deed, Robin, I tliink they're shaped gay like your -ain nose — broad at the bottom and narrow at the tap ! " Bums laughed heartily at the liomely solution of the problem, by which he hoped to puzzle his talkative friend. The old man is rather proud than otherwise of the equivocal fame conferred on him by the lines of the Poet ; and he is vain enough to believe that the latter was provoked to re- taliate in consequence of some satirical remarks made use of in one of their many conver- sations. Bums and he met one day in Mauchline, opposite " Auld Nanse Tinnock's." " How's a' the day, Jamie ?'' said the Bard ; " AVhat's the news.^"" " O nacthing," said Humphry, who had a short time before been reading Don Quevedo's Visions of Hell, " except frae the low'er regions." " And what are they doing there ?" said Burns. " O," continued Jamie, " a Poet in AjTshiro 's sending mair souls to h-U than the auld Dcil has done since the creation ; and now they're gaun to make the Poet tlie Chief o' Devils. But as some of the black fraternity arc for retaining tlieir former anc, the tulzic between the twa factions is likely to be a dreich job." To this sally Bums made no reply. According to Humphry, he was far from being wcll-pleascd. The Poet had not at this period committed himself by llie i)ubIication of his Kilmar- nock edition ; but tlie " Twa Herds," the " Holy Fair," and one or two otlicr poems of a similar character, had won their way to very general notice, and subjected llie author to the utmost contumely as an irreverent and dangerous individual. Ho may on this 1 2 APPENDIX. account have felt somewhat irritated at tlie rude wit of Humphry. The compliment, however, was repaid with interest ; and tlic title of the " hleth'rin' b-tch " tenaciously adhered to James ever afterwards. A contemporary poetess, Jean Murray of the Muir, attempted to wipe off the stigma in a sort of 'per contra to the lines of Bums ; and James takes rare to wind up his statement relative to the Poet, by reciting the kind efl'usioii of Jean. It is as follows : — " See, Rums ca's James a ' bleth'rin' b-tch,' Pretends he's dead ; there's nacthing such ! The man's alive — possess'd o' sense — Forbve wcel bred, no scnnt o' mcnse. I sometimes tliroiiijh tlie Firwood toddle To i;ather wit at liis gray noddle ; There, rhyming o'er my new-spun poetry. Searching for philosophy. There's some ca's Rab auld Allan's heir, I wnna let them rest v;i't there. I claim a kin to that fumed man ; My mither's Ramsay, o' the clan ; Now, Robin, lie ye whare ye' re laid, I'll contradict nae feck ye've said ; But I could ne'er approve your plan. To abuse sae wise and good a man." Humphry had read a good deal ; and, like many a half-informed person, believed he understood vastly more tluin he really did. Hence he often essayed to discuss subjects far beyond his comprehension, and his proncness to talk tended to confirm the opinion expressed of him by Burns. Poor Humi)liry, though an industrious, hard-working man, has been exceedingly unfortunate ; yet, at the age of eighty-two, he retains no small degree of animal spirits, and appears happy. He was at one period a master builder, and had the mason-work at Catrine Mills ; but the person wth M'hom he was in company acted unfairly, and, to use his own words, he " lost £100 by him," and was " diddled out of £50 more bv the lawvers." HIC JACET WEE JOHNNIE. " Whoe'er thou art, oh reader, know. That Death lias murder'd Johnnie ! And here his body lies fu' low For saul he ne'er had ony." John VriLSo.v, printer of the first edition of Burns's Poems, on wliom the Poet composed the above satirical lines, in consequence, it is said, of his refusal to venture on a second edition without security, was, notmthstanding the penurious timidity ascribed to him by the offended Bard, a much esteemed and respectable individual. Bums was at the time on the eve of leaving Scotland, and his circumstances were altogether such as to inspire no great faith in his pecuniary resources ; while the odium attached to his works, as immoral and heterodox, were reasons sufficiently weighty to influence any business man of common prudence. We therefore see no reason why Wilson should APPENDIX. 13 be blamed, as he has frequently been, for his conduct towards Burns. He deserves no great credit for disciimiuation, however, haNdug afterwards lost a considerable Bum in the exercise of an ill-judged liberality on fax less deserving authors, who, prompted by the success of Bums, were ambitious to follow in his wake. Wilson was a native of Kilmarnock, where his father kept a small shop, though it might be considered large at that time, for the disposal of general merchandise, in the Fore Street, then the principal thoroughfare. There were two brothers in the bookselling trade, John and Peter. The latter was established in business in Ayr, and the former in Kilmarnock. Thougli careful and generally secure in their dealings, they were nevertheless active and enter- prising in disposition ; and to their united efforts the county is indebted for the first newspaper it possessed. " The Air Advertiser," of which they were the original pub- lishers, was begun in 1803. Though the only newspaper in a populous and extensive district, it was but indifferently patronised for some time, and, it is said, the projectors were more than once on the eve of abandoning it altogether. The speculation, however, ultimately became a papng one, in so much that the Wilsons realized a handsome for- tune ; and the Advertiser still continues to be a profitable concern, though, as there are now two other journals in AjTshire, it no longer possesses a monopoly. On the death of his brother Peter, John Wilson removed from Kilmarnock to Ayr, when the news- paper firm was changed to " Wilson & Paul," the Rev. H. Paul (of whom a short sketch has already been given) having entered into partnership, and conducted the jour- nal for some time. John Wilson died on the 6th May 1821, leaving a widow, but no children. He was of very small stature, but active and genteel in appearance. JOHN BLACK, LL.D., AUTHOR OF " THE FALLS OF CLYDE," " LIFE OF TASSO,'' &C. Dr Black was not a native of Ayrshire ; but his connexion with the county, as minister of the parish of Coylton, perhaps entitles him to notice in a work of this de- scription. He was born at Douglas, in Lanarkshire, about the year 1777. AVhile a student, and after he became probationer, several years of his life were passed as a pri- vate tutor, in which capacity he was for some time employed in the family of Mr Hamilton of Sundrum, in Ayrshire, through whose influence he obtained the cure of the parish of Coylton. Soon after his settlement there, the degree of Doctor of Laws was conferred on him by the University of Glasgow. Dr Black was early distinguished for his love of learning and fame, and he made great progress in his scholastic acquirements. As a linguist, he had few superiors. His poem, the " Falls of Clyde ; or the Fairies," wag a juvenile conception, thougli it remained unpublished till 1806. It would have been well for his fame, probably, that it had never seen the light. Written in the Scottish dialect, it is, in point of dialogue, a very unworthy imitation of the " Gentle Sliephcrd," while the ]ilot and incident are ill imagined and by no means well executed. The story consists in the theft of the Laird of Bonniton's infant daughter by the fairies — Iier concealment in a cavern at tiic Falls of the Clyde — and her rescue from thraldum by her lover on the eventful eve 14 APPENDIX. when, according to Fairy law, no human effort could afterwards have saved her. With tlie exception of some of the stanzas put into the mouths of her supernatural captors, which are pretty enough, the poem presents few redeeming lines. The following are no doubt a favourable specimen : — " Should one bred in a cave, in gloom ami night. Be brought transported to the cheerfu' light, How would he gaze ! an' think he'd never tire, To wander round, to view, and to admire : The golden sun, the lovely azure sky. The earth, the sea, would all transport his eye ; How woLild the flowers, the birds, the scented breeze, Delight when whispering through the blossom'd trees ? Yet custom makes us without transport view, The Palace of the world.'''' The pastoral, however, was prefaced by a learned dissertation on Fairies, the' Scot- tish Language, and Pastoral Poetry, the length of which, and the number of quota- tions pressed into it, though creditable to the talent and research of the author, were altogether out of proportion to the length or importance of the poem. When the work appeared, it was severely criticised by the reviewers ; and the reception it experienced is understood to have made a deep and lasting impression on the author's mind. The Life of Tasso, a work of a very different character, Avas, on the contrary, so well received, that it was speedily translated into several Continental languages, and highly eulogised in the land of the Poet's birth. In the appendix, he gave an account of the Admirable Crichton, so depreciatory of the reputed character of that extraor- dinary individual, that Mr Tytler of Woodhouselee, with whom the author was in cor- respondence at the time, is supposed to have been prompted to undertake a biography of Crichton, which he published in 1814, in every respect the antipodes of that given in the Life of Tasso. Dr Black died in Paris, on the 26th of August 1825, of an inflammatory disease. By those who were intimate with him, he is described as having been a perfect recluse amongst his books. Previous to his death, he was engaged in a work on the genius and poetry of Homer. " Of very considerable talents, imagination, and peculiarly pleasing in conversation, a poetical feeling pervaded all his writings ; but though dis- criminating, his judgment in literary matters was not always to be trusted. He was scarcely knowTi beyond his parish as a preacher, and had little desire to shine in his pulpit orations. They were, notwithstanding, generally effective and original. His private character was estimable. Sober, temperate, chaste, and delicate, yet he could occasionally unbend in socialty. He had a fund of wit and anecdote, greatly enhanced by the natural simplicity of his character." * * Obituary notice in the Ayr Courier. APPENDIX. 15 BUCHANITES. " Upon the death of Mr Jack, the first Relief minister of Irvine, that congrega- tion made choice of Mr Whyte to be his successor. Mr Whyte being called to assist at a sacrament in the neighbourhood of Glasgow, Mrs Buchan had an opportunity of hearing him preach, and, captivated by his oratory, she communicated to him by letter the flattering account of liis being the first minister who as yet had spoken effectually to her heart, expressing at the same time a desire of visiting him at Irvine, that she might farther be confirmed in the faith. " This letter he showed to some of his people, who gave her a very welcome recep- tion ; and, from her heavenly conversation and extraordinary gifts, they began to con- sider her a very valuable acquisition to their party. Religion was the constant topic of her conversation. In all companies and upon all occasions she introduced it. Her time was wholly employed in visiting from house to house, in making family worship, solving doubts, answering questions, and in expounding the Scriptures. Some of the congregation began to entertain doubts of tlie orthodoxy of her principles, all of wbicli had been implicitly imbibed by her minister. They expressed their dissatisfaction at his ministry, and desired him to dismiss her as a dangerous person. He refused to comply with their request. They threatened to libel him. He remained finn to her interest, and in this he was supported by some of the most wealthy of his hearers. They drew up a paper containing what they supposed were her principles and his, and desired him to declare whether these were liis principles. He acknowledged that they were, and readily subscribed them as such. They carried the matter before the Presbytery, who thought proper to depose him from his office of the ministrj-. He returned to Irvine, accompanied by his adherents, delivered up the keys of the church, preached for some time in a tent, and afterwards in his own house. " The curiosity of the public was excited, and many frequented his meetings. Strange accounts were given of their doctrine and manner of worship. They usually met in the night-time, and were instructed by their pretended prophetess. She gave herself out to be the woman spoken of in the 12th chapter of the Revelation, and that Mr Whyte was the man-child she had brought fortli. This, and some other ravings ■which she uttered, drew upon her and her party the indignation of the populace. Idle people assembled at different times in a tumultuous manner, surrounded the house, broke the windows and furniture, and would have proceeded to gi'eater extremities had it not been for the interposition of the magistrates. After repeated applications from different members of the Relief congregation, to have her appreliended and proceeded against as a blasphemer, the magistrates thought it prudent to dismiss her from the place, which was accordingly done in May 1784. " To protect the woman from insult, they conducted her about a mile out of town ; but, notwithstanding all their efforts, she was grossly insulted by the mob, thrown into ditches, and otherwise ill-used by the way. She took up her residence with some of her followers in the nciglibourhood of Kilmanrs, and, being joined by Mr Whyte and others in the morning, the whole company, about forty in nunil)er, proceeded on their way to Mauchlinc, and from thence to Cumnock, and to Closeburn, in Dumfries-shire, singing as they went, and saying they were going to the New Jerusalem." — Statistical Account of Scotland, 179.3. Several old people still remember having seen the Buchanites on their way to the New Jerusalem. Mrs Buchan, attired in a scarlet cloak — which was then fashionable — together with the discarded minister, and one or two of tlie higher onkr of Iier dupes, were seated in a cart, while the remainder of the company followed on foot. Tlic people on the roads as they passed were greatly astonished at the strangeness of the spectacle. The deluded fanatics settled on a farm in the parish of Closeburn, to whidi was given the name of Buchan-Jlu\ Like the Essencs of ancient, and the Socialists of modern, times, the Buchanites adopted the principle of a coinmimily of goods— every tiling was 16 APPENDIX. licld in common amongst them. One of tlic leading novelties by which she drew bo many followers around her was, that they should be carried to heaven without tasting death. It is astonishing how long she contrived to cherish a belief in the certainty of this event. She frequently led them to the top of a rising ground in the neighbour- hood, where the most solemn preparations and ceremonies were performed in the expec- tation of being caught up into heaven ; but, often as they were disappointed, still some excuse or other served to keep alive the extraordinary spirit of faith created in her ad- herents. John M'Taggart, in his Gallovidian Encyclopedia, states, that " at long and length the glorious day arrived on which they were to be taken to the regions above, where endless happiness existed, and pleasure for evermore. Platforms were erected for them to tvait on, until the wonderful hour arrived ; and Mrs Buchan's jilatform was exalted above all the others. The hair of ilka head was cut short, all but a tuft on the top, for the angels to catch by when drawing them up. The momentous liour came. Every station for ascension was instantly occupied. Thus they stood, expecting to be wafted every moment into the land of bliss, when a gust of wind came ; but, instead of wafting them upwards, it capsized Mrs Buchan, platform and all ! After this unex- pected downcome,'" continues John, " she fell into disgrace by her leaders, and her words had not so much weight with them ; still, however, a great number clung by her. One night, she having been ailing for some time before, a fit came on her, out of which she never recovered ; but her disciples, thinking it to "be a trance into which she had fallen, expected her to awake. No sign of this appearing, and her body beginning to have a putrid smell, they thought it prudent to bury it in the earth beside the house ; and by her have been laid all those of her sect who have since died." Honest John M'Taggart is no doubt inclined to burlesque, and the platform and the tuft of hair may not be strictly in accordance with fact; but it is certain that the repeated failures expe- rienced in their attempts at ascension, at length began to weaken the confidence of seve- ral of her followers ; and, especially as the finances diminished, not a few began to for- sake the community. When she became ill, she endeavoured still to cheer the droop- ing spirits of those who remained faithful, by asserting that although she might die to all human appearance, yet they were not to inter her corpse, because she would assuredly come alive again, and carry them to heaven. So firmly were her adherents persuaded of the fulfilment of this prediction, that they kept the dead body until the inhabitants in the neighbourhood interfered, and compelled the interment of her remains. As mar- riage was strictly forbidden among the party, death and desertion soon thinned the com- munitv ; still a number of them remained steadily together, and some time after the death of their leader, they removed from Closebuni to a place in Galloway called Croohid-Ford, a few miles west of Dumfries. One of this singular sect still sur^'ive?. His name is Andrew Innes, and he is now upwards of eighty years of age. The Buchanites were remarkably peaceable and industrious, and greatly famed for the manu- fai ture of spinning-wheels and check-reels, formerly to be found in every cottage, but now almost entirely superseded by the spinning-jennies of the gi-eat steam factories. Mrs Buchan, bom near Banff in 1738, was the wfe of a potter in Glasgow, or its neii'hbourhood. She appears to have been a woman of very little education, but of considerable natural ability. Tlie following letter, in her own hand^Titing, is copied verbatim from the original : — " Mv vere well-leloved sislere in Jesus Christ, and in God your Father and my APrENDIX. 17 Father. O ! my dear sisters, you have bene at a great lose for want of the Briead of Life, tlie words of God, spoakc by the Spirit of God, wliich is spirit and life. ! groat and preacious is the mistreyes of Godlencs tliat has bene revealed among us since you left us. But had I knowen, when parting -svitii you, tl)at the seperation would have had continued to be so long, I do not thinke that I would have concented to it on aney acount ; but I must waren you, my dear sisters, in the name of God your Father and his Sone Jesus Christ, that you come out of that place and be seperat. O ! my dear sisters and beloved children, you are keping us as it wer in bondage. ! dou it no longer. "We have stayed in this place, and have beain thankefoul to geat live to stay on your acount, till we be joined never to pairt more. And the popel heare has beau more than ordcnarey for atantion to hear and belive the truths as they are reviled by our beloved and most faithful lieader. Indeed, I can say on good ground, that his grouth in displaying the mistrey of God's will and mind to sant and siner is astonish- ing. And now, my dear Janet, I chiearfuley acnoledge that I am much bound in love to you \ and maney great actes of kindnes have I had from you, and there is none of them forgotten, but they are all on record in heaven and in my mind, while I so- jurcn hear on earth. But we can have no roast till you be joined with us. O ! that you would concidder that he that will com shall com, and will not tarey. The popcl hear, some of them sies and firmoley bolives, that we are the children of God, and would joine us chierfuley, but the Devil and the world, and espesealey the clargey, is become so uneasey, theat it apeares that this place will not be abel to bear us much longer ; so we desire you to make all spead and leat us be joined in one in all things ; and, indead, I ratlier see you hear then ten thousand Icattors from you •, for 1 all most can not writ, for this is not a time for writ, but speaking face to face. AVe have thouaht it fit to send the berar to speakc face to face with you, and he will inform you of things as they are. AVc are all well in our loat and portion, being God who has seperat us from a vtorld laying in wickednes ; but our souls are wired because of mur- drers. Now, I beche you, com out from amon them, and be ye seperat ; and I am shoure I long to see you bothe hear. My well-beloved and dear sisters, and my dear freand and all his follours, joins me in the same mind ; so I conclud that we all firme- ley belive theat the God of peace shall bruis Satan under our feet shoartley. Fear- you-well on pcapcr, your faithful frind in Christ, Elspat Buchax. Pos. — Beloved Sir, we recaved your letter this morning, and was hapey to hear that you and the rest of owr dear frinds was in health ; but, dear frind, your self would have bean far more axcaptabel. You are at a great lose in being abesend from the bread anil watter of life. O ! what misrey it is to be intanglcd with this bewitching world. O ! I charge you, in the name and by the command of God, that you come out from among them, and be ye seprat ; for he that will come shall come, and will not tarej'. I have maney things to say to you, but have no pleasure in writting, for I long to sec you face to face. Your wife and the two children are weall, and longs to see you. Our dearlcy beloved and most faithful shiperd has his most kind love to you, and wonders at your long abesance. What if you be defining tlie Ivord's work ! Thir could no destruction come on Sodom, till liOt was gon out of it. Give our most in- diring love to Mr anil Mrs G'arvcn, and to Mrs Young ; and I can give them no advise but what I have given them befor, and whiit I have given you on this peaper, except I sead you face to face. The bearer will in form you of other matters. Love, marcey, and peace, in God, be mcncfest through Jesus Christ in and on you all. From your faithfull frind in Christ, F.LSVAT BCCIIAN." Tiie above letter bears no date of any kind ; but, from one or two others we liavo seen, written by her followers evidently about the same period, it is likely to have ema- nated from " New Camp," as they designated their settlement at Chisclinrn, in 17(1.'). From the contents of the letter, Elspat appears to have shared tiie hunuur of leadership, at least nominally, with the Urv. Mr WJivtc. Mrs Biichan died in M;iv 1701. 18 ATPENDIX. KEV. DAVID LANDSBOROUGH, OF STEVENSTON. Ayrshire has no claim to the author of " Arran, a Poem," beyond that of resi- dence. He was born in the parish of Dairy, in the Glenkcns of Galloway, a district celebroted alike for its rural beauty, its educational institutions, and as the birthplace of Lowe, Gillespie, Paterson, &c. His parents were of humble life, but highly respect- able in their sphere ; and, though possessed of limited means, nobly exemplified the characteristic virtue of the Scottish peasant, in affording every facility within their power to the scholastic advancement of their son. After several years attendance at the schools of his native district — the excellence of which are well known — and afterwards at Dumfries, under Gray, Kennedy, and White, young Landsborough studied at the University of Edinburgh, and, before finishing his classes, became tutor in the family of Lord Glenlee, to whose patronage he was much indebted. He was appointed to the parish of Stevenston in 1811, where he still con- tinues, greatly esteemed, both professionally and privately, by all who know him. Mr Landsborough married a Miss M'Leish of Port-Glasgow, an excellent lady, but of delicate health — a circumstance to whicli we owe the valuable poem on Arran. Having a daily view of the peaks and glens of that romantic island from the manse, he was induced to repair thither, on more than one occasion, with Mrs Landsborough, for tho benefit of a change of air ; and, in gratitude for the happy effects on the health of his beloved partner, he was led to write the poem in question. Fond of the study of nature generally, he had ample opportunity of indulging his taste in the rich mineral, conchological, geological, and botanical stores of the island. We are not aware that Mr Landsborough has given publicity to any other " wooings of the muse" than the poem already alluded to. The pages of the Scottish Christian Herald, however, are frequently graced with poetical scraps from his pen ; and the account of the parish of Stevenston, in the New Statistical Account of Scotland — one of tho most interesting in that important work — sufficiently attests his research and ability as a writer. The poem of Arran was well received, and is now, we believe, out of print. Though not entitled perhaps to take its place amongst the highest flights of genius, the poem has earned for its author a name which his country will always be proud to acknow- ledge. We quote the following lines from the first canto : — " And thou, majestic Arran 1 dearest far Of nil the isles, on which the setting sun In golden glory smiles ; queen of the west, And daughter of the waves ! there art thou too, Rearing aloft thy proud aerial brow. Claiming the homage of admiring lands, O'er a wide range of tributary shores. Thee much T love; partly, I wot, beraujie I've oft explored thy glens and tangled brakes, ^^'hpre ev"ry bunk bloom? \\itii tlie prlmiose pale. AITEXDIX. il^ And drooping hyacinth ; or where iimiJst Her ensifornial leaves, on stately stein. Sweet epipadis, rarest of thy plants. Builds up her pyramid of snowy gems. Thee much I love ; because I've often climb'd Thy mountains brown and scaled their towering peaks, Where high 'midst rocky battlements sublime, Flora conceals from reach of vulgar ga/e The loveliest of her fair, but fleeting race, — And whence, in panoramic view, beheld Far as the eye can reach are Scotia's isles. And intervening seas, and mountains blue, And fertile vales, far as Edina's towers. Whence, too, are seen, in varied shades and hues, Erin's green shores, and Fiona's distant hills. And merry England's coast, like summer clouds. Softly commingling with the azure sky. Thee much I love ; because in roaming through Thy scenery wild, health}- — I healtliier felt ; Breathing the air which breathes the hardy Gael, I seem'd t' inhale part of that Ciaelic fire. Which, kindling 'midst the thunderbolts of war, Nerves his dread arm, and prompts his fearless heart To deeds of more than Greek or Roman fame : — Or, wlien the sound of war is heard no more, Gleams in his glist'ning eye, 'mid distant lands. At thought of kindred, and of Highland home. But dearer art thou far, beloved land ! Because when to thy shores I trembling boro Her whom I value more than all the wealth Which wealthiest lands or richest seas can yield ; Though pale as Parian marble was her cheek. Feeble her pulse, and sunk her languid eye ; — Soon did her eye rekindle ; soon her pulse Returning health proclaim'd •, while o'er her cheek Life woke afresh the lovely hues of youth : And soon my anxious fears were put to flight Bv gladdening hopes and glowing gratitude," The picture of a Sabbath morning in Arran is bcautif\il : — " With cheerful light shone forth the smiling sun, When came the Sabbath morn of holy rest. All Nature rested on that blessed morn ; Not with the lisllcssncss of torpid sloth. But beaming peace, as if that morn restored Part of that joy wliich hrighten'd Nature's facit When the Creator cast upon his works A look benignant, and pronounced them good. Rested the sea ; — yet did the sea proclaim Jler tranquil bjits, as she return'il llic smilo Diffused on her from Heaven's pro])itions eye. Rested the winds ; and yet the ztpliyrs bland AN'hisper'd their hnp]iiMCss in a'-centK sweat; 20 Ari'ENDIX. Or held soft converse with the peaceful waves AVhicli play'il in gentlest iip])lings on the shore. Rested the fleecy clouds on mountain tops ; — And yet the clouds prepared to fade away, And leave in spotless i)urity tlie sky. Rested the village neat ; and all around The humble house of God was calm repose, Tlie sweet tranquillity of Sabbath morn." THE DOUGLAS AND HERON BANK. The following is a list of the original proprietors of tliis notable banliing establisli- ment : — Charles Duke of Queensberry and Dover „^,^„,„„„,,^ £2000 Henry Duke of B uccle uch„,^„,v^ „ ,.,,^^ „~^ 1000 Patrick Earl of Dumfries 2000 William Earl of March and Ruglen 500 The Hon. Archibald Douglas of Douglas, Esq..,.™.,^ 2000 William Douglas, younger of Kelhead ^.■„.^,,,„^^,>„.^.^.,.,.^ 1000 Patrick Heron, Esq. of Heron .„,^,„„„.„^„...^.,.,.^ 1000 Charles Douglas, Esq. of Braikenwhat 500 John OiT, Esq. of Barrowfield, Advocate 1000 Patrick Gordon, Esq. of Kingsgrange„,„,„-„,^,-,-~-.-™.-,^,^ 500 Mr Alexander Anderson, Merchant in London-. ^ 1000 Mr Hugh Ross, Merchant in London -.— 1000 James Fergusson, Esq. of Craigdarroch, Advocate„„-„„,„ 500 Robert Maxwell, Esq. of Cargen „™„,™™^„™™™™„- 1000 Captain Basil Heron, of the North British Dragoons^,„^, 500 Mr John Christian, Merchant in the Isle of Man ^™^™- 1500 David Currie of Newlaw „-,.„..,„„„„„„.„„-., ,„„.,„„„, 1500 Gilbert Paterson, Merchant in Dumfries -,-„- 500 James Macwhirter, Merchant there ...-,. -.~^„^^^.,.,.„„ 500 Ebenezer Wilson, Bookseller there .^,.,.^,.,.,.,.,.,.,...^,.^ 500 Thomas Stothart, Writer tliei'c„„-,-,„^,—,^->>../.,-^. >.,->,>, 500 Mr David Forbes, Merchant there ™™.-,-,„.-™™,-,^-™w, 500 John Aitken, Writer there,,„-„,,,„,. .,„„„„„-,,-„„„„„„ 500 Gilbert Gordon of Halleaths ^ . ™™ ^ .™-^„ 500 Edward Maxwell, Merchant in Dumfries 1000 Alexander Gordon of Greenlaw , ^^,,^ .,,„ 1000 William Full.irton of Rosemount~„~~~v~~~~— -~~~~~„ 2000 John Campbell of Wellwood „„..-_„„,„ ^-«.,™^,«„ — .„ 1000 Robert Reid of Seabank „,„--. . ~ , 500 The Same, afterwards -,„ ™„~w-,„,~- other 500 William Logan of Castleniains-„™.™-.„,™-,~-.,~~~~~,„„«- 500 AVilliam Boyd- Robertson of Trochrig„,^,-,-,™,,~v-w-,.~^~ — 500 Archibald Crawford of ArdmiUan 1000 The Rev. I\Ir John Steel of Gadgirth ™,™ .-„ 500 The Same, afterwards ,.»vw-^ — -^~ -«,« — ,^.,-~-other 500 Robert Fergusson of Castlehill ^-^„«„™ — «-.^- 1000 Hugh Logan of Logan ^^, -~^-~-~~^ — ^-„„,-„,,- 1000 Carry forward, £33,000 APPENDIX. 21 Adam Crawfurd Newal of Polqiiliaim William Losan of Camlars -„,,w Brought forwards Andrew Donald, Merchant in Greenock . James Wilson, junior, Merchant in Kilmarnock ~- Hugh Pai'ker, Merchant there -■ ■ ., - -, ., ,■ „. .,,...., James Gillespie, in Boddonlee George Maccree, Merchant in Air, James King, senior, Merchant in Greenockv. David Maclurc, Merchant in Air Alexander Fergusson, younger of Craigdarroch, Advocate,, William Hay of Crawfordston, Writer to the Signet „„ Mr Ebenezer Macculloch, Merchant in Edinburgh,,,,,,,,,,,, Alexander Gray, "Writer to the Siguet„„ George Young, jmrior. Merchant in Edinburgh Colonel Steuart Douglas, late of the 108th regiment of foot John Dickson of Conheath -,^ ,,,,,, , , ,,,, ., ,. Alexander Orr of Waterside, Writer to the Signet „„„„, John ]\Iunuy of Murray thwaite John Newall of Barskeoch James jMounsey of Rammerscales Sir Robert Maxwell of Orchardton, Bart.. Alexander Wight, Esq., Advocate. Quintin Macadam, in Barleith . William Gibson, Merchant in Edinburgh John Balfour, Merchant there . James Goodlet Campbell of Auchline Robert Henderson of Cleughheads ~„„ Robert Hemes of Halldykes. Bruce Campbell, Esq., at Sornbeg , Theodore Edgar of Elshishiels, AValter Scott, Writer to the Signet,. Sir Robert Laurie of Maxwelton, Bart. Captain Robert Laurie of the Queen's Dragoons Walter Wilson of Crogline jNIr Christo])her Kelly, Merchant in London Captain John Lowis of London ,. Mr Alexander Ross, at Balkail Captain John Ross, of the 31st regiment of foot „,„. Ebenezer Hepburn, Merchant and Provost of Dumfries, Thomas Wallace, Merchant in Cumnock William Hunter, Merchant in Dumfries, John Beck, Merchant in Kirkcudbright , John Kilpatrick, Merchant there David Bean of Meiklefurthtad „„ Francis Green of Mainwhern John Wilson, Merchant in Dumfries John Graham, junior, Merchant there, Dr William Giaham of M().ssknow James Swan, Merchant in Ijockcrbie Walter Riddel of Ncwhouse Thomas Maxwell of Di unqiark „, „„„ James Richardson, Merchant in Lochmaben Andrew Crosbic of Holm, Advocate. John Carruthers of Holmains John Paxton, Merchant in Ecclcfcdian,, I)r Janie,'. Hunter, Physician in Moffat,,. £33,000 ^ 500 „ 1000 500 500 500 500 1000 500 1000 1000 500 1000 500 1000 500 500 1000 500 500 1000 500 1000 1000 500 500 500 500 500 500 500 500 500 500 500 1000 500 500 500 500 500 500 500 500 500 500 500 500 500 500 500 500 5(){) 1 000 50O 500 500 Cairy forward „^„,£()7, 000 22 APPENDIX. Brought foiw~~~~ >.-~ 500 James Baillic, Writer in Edinburgh ., — .■■~ 500 David Fcrgusson, Provost of Air >.>.^~~~~~ 500 John Murdoch, Writer in Air™„„-^ ^— ~ — 1000 John Fcrgusson of Grcenvaile-™^,-,~~^-— ™-~-~~ — -~— 1000 Patrick Douglas, Surgeon in Air ^..-.^ ,.,,..„.^>^.,„ 500 John Macmichan of Killinbringan -„. ,....^ 1000 James Macadam of Waterhead-,,.^.~^,»„.^>..,.^ •■• 500 Robert Whiteside, Merchant in Air -.„~~ — ~— -^ 500 John Sutherland, IMerchant in Cumnock ^ „^,^^~^ 500 George Houston of Johnston „«-,„„ — — ,„^,,,„„,-,,,^,*-~^— 500 John Campbell of Saddle -^ 1000 Robert Kenned)' of Auchtifardle, Advocate -— ~ ~ 500 William Wallace of Sauchie, Advocate — 1000 Colonel Charles Campbell of Barbreck 1000 Robert Kennedy of Pinmore ,„,^„ — ^-~— w^~ 500 Captain William Maxwell of Dalswinton — 500 Hugh Maxwell, AVriter in Edinburgh™, — . »— ~~ — 500 Thos. Lockhart, Esq., one of the Commissioners of Excise 500 James Inglis, Merchant in Edinburgh , — ^,-~ — «.,,_,*,,, 500 Robert Hunter, in Dalmaherran ^ 500 John Balfour, Bookseller in Edinburgh ~„ , — ^,„_™, 500 David Campbell of Bellmount, Writer to the Sigiiet„„„„ 2000 David Armstrong of Kirkleton, Advocate ^^^^^-^ 500 William Chalmer of Easter Dairy . — 500 Andrew Muir, Merchant in Kirkcudbright .., ..^-.^^^ — 500 Alexander Hughan, Merchant in Cretoun„~~, 500 James Maxwell of Bamcleuch — ^,,~ -,~-~ — 500 Captain John Kelso of Dankeith >-~,™ — 500 George Graham of Shaw „,,^„„„„ ,-^ „v~.,,,~. 500 Thomas Rcid, Merchant in Saltwalls — „ „ — — 500 Thomas Hamilton of Overton — , ^ ~~ 500 James Hamilton of Hamiltonhill ,,™,^-,,«~v — —-,. — ~~~ — 500 Robert Min-ie, Merchant in Annan_<„~„„,,-~^ w~ 500 David Thomson of Ingliston 1000 Thomas Callow^, jounger of Auchinchain ~-,~vw~^ ■ 500 Alexander Fcrgusson of Ceutlich — ^„,.^.^^^^ ~- 500 Alexander Maconocliie, Writer in Edinburgh ~,,— ,~ 500 Robert Lorimer, in Auchennight 500 John Ross-Mackye of Haukhead ,, ._„™,„„„,„^_„ 500 Colonel Hector Munro of Navarre-™ ~ ™-~ 500 £96,000 APPENDIX. 23 ADDITIONAL NOTICE OF GAVIN TURNBULL. The sketch of Turnbull was at press wlien our attention was directed to vol. ii. of the " Weaver's Magazine," published at Paisley in 1819, in which, under the head of " Biographical Sketches of Alexander Wilson," (the ornithologist,) the following notice of the Poet occurs : — " With Gavin Turnbull, another young author who sometimes visited Wilson, I was well acquainted. The volume of poems which he published, I received from his own hand, which is still in toy possession. It consists mostly of poems of the elegiac or melancholy cast ; songs, and a few pieces in the Scottish dialect of the humorous kind. The account which this young man gave of himself to me was, that he was born in one of the border counties washed by the Tweed ; that in early life he had received the rudiments of a classical education ; and that his parents had at one time been in decent circumstances, but by misfortune had been reduced, by which the intention they had of making him a scholar had been relinquished ; and, necessity urging, they had bound him apprentice to the trade of a weaver. In following this employment, he took up his residence in the town of Kilmarnock, where he devoted a great deal of his attention to tlie writing of poetry, and also encouraged by the success of Burns, he commenced author. A few of his poems are of the descriptive kind, and the scenery is sometimes laid on tlie pastoral banks of the Tweed, and at other times on the beautiful margin of Irvine Water. In his poem, entitled ' Vicissitudes of Fortune,' he narrates, wth an air of melancholy, some of the circumstances of his early life, and the changes that had taken place in his worldly prospects, from which narrative he draws the following mournful reflection : — ' But, ah ! how vain are human schemes ; Illusive visions, empty dreams, Which, when we grasp, our hope's betray'd ; We lose the substance for the shade.' When I became first acquainted with Turnbull, he was, like his friend Wilson, in- volved in pecuniary difficulties, owing in a great measure to his having neglected to pro- secute with diligence the mechanical employment which he had been taught, devoting so much of his time and attention to writing verses, and to his having become incon- siderately an unsuccessful author. When he made his occasional visits to Paisley, I had often an opportunity of conversing with him ; and when at a distance, he was sometimes my correspondent. He was a well informed young man, had read a great deal of poetry, and was particularly fond of Shenstone, of whose elegies and pastorals he was a successful imitator ; and he had a very correct judgment in criticising the poe- tical compositions of others. Like our late townsman, Tannahill, be had a happy talent for song-writing. His poetical genius introduced him to the acquaintance of Burns, who runked him among his friends ; and in his correspondence with Mr Thom- son, he thus makes honourable mention of him : — ' Turnbull, by the by, has a great many songs in manuscript, which I can command. Possibly, as he is an old friend of mine, I may be prejudiced in his favour, but I like some of his pieces very much.' And Mr Thomson, in return, thus writes : — ' Your friend TurnbuU's songs have con- sideiable merit, and as you have the command of his manuscripts, I hope you will find some that will answer.' This young Poet, Ity his devotcdiiess to his favourite pursuit, got into an unsettled mode of life, entereATON, AT).\M SQtJARE. UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LIBRARY Los Angeles This book is DUE on the last date stamped below. ' o i^d- R E C E 5 \' a S~\ MAIN LOAN [:ErM EGK JAN 1 ms ■Zi §l9 noun 121 H^ l^l^H^I Form L9-25m-8,'46(9852)444 VNlVkJi. Tf^V T 1P,T» A»v lOS Ai\