rlY OF CALIFOR^^' LOS ANGELES .7>^ £*^^ ^y »yZ^Z^^ tL^>^^ T^m.I.SHED ArcrSTl.BY ". . BOY.~ . 7 I.IT'G.XIK HI ILTFiaS SCOTTISH ISFBMTB .-;> R-kLtedibr T.B@XS,LudgateIIill . 1622. LIVES OF SCOTTISH POETS; WITH IBortraits antr Fipettes. But he was of " the north countrie," A natioit fam'd for song. The Minstrel. THREE VOLUMES. LONDON: PRINTED FOR THOMAS BOYS, LUDGATE HILL; And Sold by OLIVER AND BOYD ; CONSTABLE AND CO.; MANNERS AND MILLER ; BELL AND BBADFUTE ; W. BLACKWOOD ; W. WHYTE AND CO. ; GUTHRIE AND TAIT ; WAUUH AND INNES ; J. ANDERSON AND CO. ; JOHN CARFRAE ; W. AND D. LAING; JOHN THOMSON AND CO.; W. AND C. TAIT ; ADAM BLACK, J. ANDERSON, JUN. ; W. WILSON AND CO. ; STIRLING AND SLADE ; MACREDIE AND CO. ; W. OLI- PHANT ; MACLACHLAN AND STEWART ; WARDLAW AND CO.; D. brown; and j. greig; Edinburgh: james brash AND co; w. turnbull; smith and son; retd and HENDERSON ; CHALMERS AND COLLINS ; T. OGILVIE ; WARDLAW AND CUNNINGHAMS; M. OGLE; LUMSDEN AND son; JAMES DUNCAN, JUN.; AND JACKSON AND ORR; Glasgow: A. BROWN AND CO. ; G. CLARKE; A.WATSON; AND D WYLLiE ; Aberdeen. 1822. CONTENTS or PART III. PACE. James the Sixth 1 Sin Richard Maitland 57 Arthvr Johnston 68 Hamilton of Bangour 77 Hamilton of Gilbertfield 98 Samuel Colvil 101 Alexander Ross 105 John Armstrong 115 John Ogilvie 135 James Macpherson 148 Charles Salmon , 169 441339 PORTRAITS IN PART III. i. . . . James the Sixth. 2. .. . . John Armstrong. 3. .. . . Hamilton of Bangou 4. .. . . James Macpherson. 5. .. . . Arthur Johnston. Vignette .... Edinburgh Castle 2 LIVES OF EMINENT SCOTSMEN. The most profound philosopher that England ever perhaps produced, has, in his Essay on the Advance- ment of Learning, spoken of James in terms which the meanest pretender to letters of the present day would be ashamed to father. It is probably true, as the Jesuit Gratian remarks, that " there is no prince, however contemptible or vicious, who will not find flatterers to extol him as one of the fust of men, nay, almost to revere him as a God."* It is not always, however, that men, whose praise is worth regarding, are to be prevailed upon to play the flatterer's part. When we do find indivi- duals, eminent for their genius and discernment, sa- crificing their honor and sincerity at the shrine of royalty, it is a proof of sometliing more than personal meanness. The fact is a type of a degraded age. It marks a time, when, even to the ablest of men, the only way to preferment was to cringe and flatter ; when truth and liberty had as yet little or nothing to do with the direction of national concerns ; when hereditary wisdom and divine right were the only acknowledged sources of a people's prosperity. It is, as Apollonius saith, " for slaves to lie, and for freemen to speak truth." The period when James flourished may indeed be regarded as the tAvilight state of British freedom. The beautiful image of Milton had still to be realized. The eagle had still to " kindle her undazzled eyes at the full mid-day beam; to purge and unscale hr r long abused sight at the fountain of heavenly radi- ance." * " Reflexions Politiques." POETS. — JAMES THE SIXTH. 3 Although the contemporary flatterers of James had their apologj-^ in the spirit of the age in which they lived, there have been others, who, without any such apology, have been nearly as partial to his character. The acute, but faithless, Hume, has, in our own day of just and liberal notions, had the boldness to declare that a reign " more unspotted and unblemished" than that of James does not adorn the British annals. It would be more singular to share in such an opi- nion, than to diflfer from it. The spots and blemishes in James's character will be found to be numerous, and, like the stains of Rizzio's blood in his mother's chamber, not to be washed out. James was the son of Queen Mary, by her ill-fated husband and cousin, Henry Lord Darnley, and was bom in Edinburgh Castle on the 19th June, 1566. In the following year, his mother being forced to resign the crown, James was proclaimed king, and the Earl of Morton, who was at the head of the insur- gents, was appointed regent. The infant prince was sent to Stirling Castle, to be brought up under the charge of the Earl and Countess of Mar. As he grew in years, the Earl of Mar's brother, Alexander Erskine, became the chief superintendant of his education ; and under him four preceptors were employed, the celebrated George Buchanan, Peter Young, (after- wards knighted) and the two abbots of Cambusken- neth and Dryburgh, both related to the noble family of Mar. " Alexander Erskine," says Sir James Mel- vil, " was a gallant well-natured gentleman, loved and honoured by all men, for his good qualities and great discretion ; no ways factious nor envious ; a lover of all honest men, and desirous ever to see men of good B ^ 4 LIVES OF EMINENT SCOTSMEN, conversation about the prince, rather than his own nearer friends, if he found them not so meet. The two abbots were wise and modest. My lady Mar was wise and sharp, and held the king in great awe ; and so did Mr. George Buchanan. Mr. Peter Young was more gentle, and was loath to offend the king at any time ; carrying himself warily, as a man who had a mind to his own weal, by keeping of his ma- jesty's favour ; but Mr. George was a stoic philoso- pher, who looked not far beforehand ; a man of no- table endowments for his learning and knowledge of Latin poesy ; much honoured in other countries, plea- sant in conversation, rehearsing at all occasions mo- ralities short and instructive, whereof he had abund- ance, inventing where he wanted." James appears to have been, in his youth, of a very docile but timid disposition : he was an apt scholar, and soon acquired a proficiency in letters which re- flected no discredit on his instructors. Buchanan, in a manly dedication to the young monarch, of his treatise, De Jure Regni, written when James was in his thirteenth year, speaks of him in the following favorable terms : " I have deemed its publication," he says, " expedient, that it may at once testify my zeal for your service, and admonish you of your duty to the community. Many circumstances tend to convince me that my present exertions will not prove fruitless; especially your age, yet uncorrupted by perverse opinions ; a disposition above your years, spontaneously urging you to every noble pursuit ; a facility in obeying not only your preceptors, but all prudent monitors ; a judgment and dexterity in dis- quisition, which prevent you from paying much re- POETS. — JAMES THE SIXTH. 5 gard to authority, unless it be confirmed by solid argument. I likewise perceive, that, by a kind of natural instinct, you so abhor flattery, the nurse of tyranny, and the most grievous pest of a legitimate monarchy, that you as heartily hate the courtly sole- cisms and barbarisms, as they are relished and affected by those who consider themselves the arbiters of every elegance, and who, by way of seasoning their conversation, are perpetually sprinkling it with majes- ties, lordships, excellencies, and, if possible, with other expressions still more nauseous. Although the bounty of nature and the instruction of your governors, may, at present, secure you against this error, yet am I compelled to entertain some slight degree of suspicion, lest evil communication, the alluring nurse of the vices, should lend an unhappy impulse to your still tender mind ; especially as I am not ignorant with what facility the external senses yield to seduction. I have, therefore, sent you this treatise, not only as a monitor, but even as an importunate and sometimes impudent dun, who, in this turn of life, may convey you beyond the rocks of adulation, and may not merely offer you advice, but confine you to the path which you have entered ; and if you shi uld chance to deviate, may reprehend you and recall your steps. If you obey this monitor, you will ensure tranquillity to yourself and your family, and will transmit your glory to the most remote posterity." It is easy to perceive, under all this tone of com- fortable anticipation, some strong misgivings on the part of his venerable preceptor. The very pointed manner in which he applauds the prince's instinctive O LIVES OF EMINENT SCOTSMEN, abhorrence of flattery, and dwells on the many risks which he runs of being seduced by it, was in fact only a subtle way of instilling that sort of sentiment in which James was most deficient. Instead of hat- ing adulation, one of the earliest propensities which James evinced was an exceeding avidity for it ; and far from requiring that " authority should always be confirmed by solid argument," it was in general enough, that some favorite or minion solicited the acquiescence of his judgment. His facility in com- plying with requests had early alarmed the sa- gacity of Buchanan ; and hence the patriotic an- xiety with which he expresses his fears that it may give an unhappy impulse to his future character. Chytraeu5 has, on the authority of Buchanan's ne- phew, recorded a curious expedient which he adopted for the purpose of correcting this foible in his pupil's character. He presented the king with two papers, which he requested him to sign ; and James, after having slightly interrogated him respecting their con- tents, readily aftixed his signature to each, without the precaution of even a cursory perusal. One of them was a formal transfer of the regal authority to Buchanan for the space of fifteen days. After Bu- chanan, had quitted the royal presence, one of the courtiers accosted him by his usual title ; but Bu- chanan reproving him, announced the new dignity which had been conferred upon him, and, with that hupiour for which he was distinguished, began to act the sovereign. He afterwards preserved the same deportment towards the king himself ; and when James expressed his surprise at such extraordinary conduct, Buchanan reminded him of having resigned POETS.— JAMES THE SIXTH. 7 the crown. This reply did not tend to lessen the con- fusion of James, who demanding some farther expla- nation, Buchanan produced the instrument by which he was formally invested with the sovereignty. Re- suming the character of tutor, he then seriously ad- monished the young prince on the folly of assenting to the petitions of any person in so rash a manner. The impression which the salutary lessons of Bu- chanan might have made, was probably much lessened by " the awe" in which, as Melvil tells us, he kept his royal pupil. Buchanan appears to have cared little about the 'sort of regard for himself which he inspired ; and in this surely he shewed nothing of the philosopher. " The honourable task," says one of his biographers, " which the voice of his country had as- signed to his old age, he discharged w ith simple inte- grity, and was little solicitous what impression the strictness of his discipline might leave on the mind of his royal pupiL" Nothing can well be conceived more ridiculous than integrity like this ; it is like beating and hardening a soil before the seed is sown. In estimating the merit of the discipline which he imposed, the impression which it was to leave on the mind of the pupil was the first and last thing to be considered. To give his precepts effect, he should have used every effort to make the preceptor revered and loved. Buchanan appears, on the contrary, to have demeaned himself so as to be most heartily detested by the young prince. James used, in after life, to say of some person high in of- fice about him, " that he ever trembled at his approach, it minded him so of his pedagogue Buchanan." Of the rude sort of discipline to which he was subjected. 8 LIVES OF EMINENT SCOTSMEN, two remarkable instances have been recorded ; neither of which is at all to Buchanan's credit. The king having coveted a tame sparrow which belonged to his play-fellow, the master of Mar, solicited him without effect to transfer his right ; and, in attempting to wrest it out of his hand, he deprived the poor little animal of life. Erskine loudly lamented its fate, and the circumstances were reported to Buchanan, who lent his young sovereign a box on the ear, and told him that he was himself a true bird of the bloody nest to which he belonged. The incident was one from which a more judicious tutor, a Fenelon or a Lindsa}^ would have taken an opportunity of inculcating a most af- fecting moral and political lesson ; but in the blow and sarcasm of Buchanan, wc see nothing but another of those exertions of mere brutal force, which he was at the moment affecting to condemn ; and a want of liberality, alike unworthy of him as a man and as a preceptor. The other instance of Buchanan's disci- pline does him still less honour ; it shows that he could act as passionately from motives of personal resentment, as from any pretended desire to vindicate the rights of humanity. A theme which had been prescribed to the royal pupil, was the conspiracy of the Earl of Angus and other noblemen during the reign of James the Third. After finishing it, James was diverting himself with the master of Mar. Buchanan, who was, in the mean time, intent on reading, finding himself annoyed by their mirth, requested the king to de- sist ; but as no attention was paid to the hint, he threatened to accompany his next injunction with something more impressive than words. James, whose ear had been tickled by the quaint application of the POETS. — JAMES THE SIXTH. 9 apologue mentioned in his theme, archly replied, that he should be glad to see who would bell the cat. Bu- chanan immediately threw aside his book with indig- nation, and bestowed upon the delinquent that species of discipline which is deemed most ignominious. The Countess of Mar being attracted by the wailing which ensued, rushed into the room, and demanded of Bu- chanan, " how he presumed to lay his hand upon the Lord's anointed ?" To this interrogation he is said to have returned the coarsest possible answer; desir- ing her ladyship to kiss what he had whipped. The regent, Morton, having rendered himself unpo- pular by various acts of rapacity and cruelty, so strong an opposition was raised against him, that in 1577 he was under the necessity of resigning the government into the hands of the young king. The resignation, nevertheless, was but temporary. In less than a year after, Morton, repairing to Stirling, contrived to gain over the garrison to his interest, and then seizing his majesty's person, resumed his former authority. James, however, found means to despatch a letter secretly to Edinburgh, complaining of this treatment, when great commotions were instantly excited. The citizens threatened to march to his relief, and Morton, to avert the storm, found it necessary to convey the king to Edinburgh. The entrance of James into his capital was cele- brated by a splendid pageant ; the style of which probably contributed not a little to give a fixed ascen- dancy to that inherent vanity of character, of the effects of which Buchanan was so justly apprehensive. As he entered the West Port, a party of masks, repre- senting a deputation of the wise men of the east. 10 LIVES OF EMINENT SCOTSMEN, hailed him as a second Solomon come to bless the nations. The story of the two women striving for the child was then represented, to signify to the peo- ple the surpassing wisdom which they might expect to find in the decrees of their young sovereign. As he advanced, Love presented him with the k-eys of the city ; Peace harangued him in the language of Arcadia ; Plenty offered her congratulations in that of Campania ; and Justice, as a more home-bred deity, told him in plain Scotch, " how unco glad she was to see him." His majesty then repaired to St. Giles's Church, where Religion made a solemn ad- dress to him in Hebrew ; after which, a worthy divine expounded, in a short sermon of two hours and a half, the causes, circumstances, and consequences of the distressed state of the kingdom of Israel, that is to say, the modern kingdom of Israel, inhabited by that chosen people of God, the Scotch. After sermon, his majesty repaired to the market cross, where he found Bacchus bestriding a hogshead, and distributing bum- pers of wine among the people ; while trumpets sound- ed, and the multitude helped to rend the air with their shouts. The king then descended the High Street, towards the ancient palace of Holyrood ; as he entered which, the shades of all the Scottish kings from Fergus I., appeared to welcome him as the living representative of their manifold virtues. James, who was as yet only in his twelfth year, made but a boy's use of his liberty. He was no sooner released from the stern controul of Morton, than he gave himself up to the guidance of two favorites, the Duke of Lennox and the Earl of Arran, who, with the policy usual to favorites, made it their study to occu- POETS. — JAMES THE SIXTH. 11 py the young monarch's attention with a constant round of amusements, and to fill him with disgust for such as presumed to hint that a king jure divino ought to have any thing more serious to attend to. They contrived, by these means, to arrogate to them- selves the whole exercise of the regal authority ; and exercising it only for private ends of the worst descrip- tion, soon brought the administration of their royal master into the greatest odium and contempt. A party of thd nobles, headed by the Earl of Gowrie, entered into a combination to rescue their young sove- reign from this degrading state of subserviency. " As the king," says Crawford, " was returning from stag hunting in Athole, in his way towards Dunferm.ling, he was invited by the Earl of Gowrie to his house of Ruthven, near Perth. The earl, who was at the head of the conspiracy, instantly sent to advertise his friends of what had happened. Whereupon, several of the discontented nobility, and all those that were in the English interest at hand, repaired to Ruthven, where, without any ceremony, they resolved to detain the king and keep him prisoner. The next da}^ when the king was essaying to go out, they stopt him ; wherefore, growing into a passion and weeping, Sir Thomas Lyon boldly, though rudely, told him, ' it was no matter for his tears — better that bainis greet tlian bearded men.' " The conspirators went through the form of present- ing a remonstrance to their royal captive, stating "the false accusations, calumnies, oppressions, and perse- cutions which they had suffered for two years, by means of the Duke of Lennox and the Earl of Arran, the like whereof were never heretofore borne in Scot- 12 LIVES OF EMINENT SCOTSMEN. land." James, yielding to the necessity of his situa- tion, sent an order to Lennox to quit the kingdom, and another for the imprisonment of Arran ; and, at the same time, issued a proclamation discharging all commissions which he had given to either of them, and declaring that in so doing he acted not from com- pulsion, but from a view to the good of the common- wealth. The party who had now got James into their power, had certainl^'^ the good of their country at heart ; but it must be confessed that thej^ employed their ascen- dancy in a way little calculated t j win over the young prince to a cordial approbation of the course which had been forcibly imposed upon him. Disciples of the reformed religion, they suffered its ministers to have a degree of influence over them in matters per- taining to the civil administration, which to no priest- hood can ever be conceded with safety. Instead of endeavoring to moderate the fier}- zeal of presbyte- rianism, they rather encouraged it to wander into ex- cesses, not only personally offensive to the kbg, but subversive of the most important attributes of the sovereign authority. It was a zeal without know- ledge ; which, left to itself, did not disdain to des- cend to acts of the pettiest hostilit^^ When Henry the Third of France sent over an ambassador to James, the Presbyterian preachers refused to believe, that the envoy of a Catholic king could come for any other purpose than with some secret design to restore the Catholic religion ; and, acting on this shrewd suspi- cion alone, they proceeded to inveigh against him by name from their pulpits, in a manner which set all propriety and decency at defiance. And when the POETS.— JAMES THE SIXTH. 13 itiac'istrates of Edinburgh had, at the request of the king, appointed a day for publicly entertaining the ambassador and his suite, the clergy thought it a right cunning trick of their craft, to order a general fast to be observed on the occasion, and, that there might be no evasion of it, they took care to keep the people all day in church by the length of their sermons ! The reign of the Gowrie administration did not however last long. James contrived to escape out of the hands of his keepers ; and calling his old favorite, Arran, and others of like disposition around him, issued a proclamation', declaring his majesty's detention at Ruthven to be an act of treason on the part of all concerned in it ; and promising pardon only on con- dition of their making the most prompt and abject submission. An attempt by Gowrie and his friends to protect themselves from the eflfects of this re-action was unsuccessful ; and Gowrie, being taken, was tried, condemned, and executed for treason. Arran now ruled with undivided sway ; James gave himself up entirely to his direction, and was in fact only king in name. The most important offices of the state were conferred on the favorite, and he " so ruled," says Crawford, "as to make the whole sub- jects tremble under him, and every man to depend upon him." The sagacious, though austere, Buchanan thus be- held all his worst fears respecting his royal pupil real- ized. He saw him the confirmed slave of that pro- pensity to flattery and favouritism, which he had early marked in his disposition, and against which he had so assiduously but vainly endeavoured to fortify his mind. The treatise which Buchanan had written, for a TAUT 3.] c 14 LIVES OF EMINENT SCOTSMEN, perpetual admonition to James, of the reciprocal rights of kings and their subjects, he had now the mortification to find not only proscribed at court, but, through the influence of the court, solemnly condemned by the legislat^ire. Buchanan had ventured to mamtain that all po\ver is derived from the people ; that it is more safe to entrust our liberties to the definite protection of the laws, than to the precarious discretion of the king ; that the king is bound by those conditions, under which the supreme power was originally com- mitted to his hands ; that it is lawful to resist, and even to punish, tyrants.* Such doctrines as these were little palatable to the sort of persons who had now the direction of James's conduct, and in a parliament which they called in the year 1584, they procured an act, condemning the Dialogue Be Jure Regni, as also the History of Scotland, which Buchanan had writ- ten in the same spirit, as unfit to remain for a record of truth to posterity ; and commanding every person who possessed copies of them, to surrender them * During the earlier part of James's minority, and when Buchanan was supposed to have some influence over the young king's proceedings, several coins were struck, with a remarkable inscription borrowed from the Emperor Trajan. One side presented a naked sword, supporting a crown on its point, and surrounded with this legend. Pro Me. Si Merear. lit, Me. " I give you this sword to use for me, but if I deserve it, to plunge into me." " Hoc lemma," says Ruddiman, " (quo et suum adversus reges ingenium prodit) Geor- gium Buchananum Jacobi VI. praeceptorem subrainis- trassc oranes consentiunt." a. s. POETS.— JAMES THE SIXTH. 15 within forty days, under a penalty of two hundred pounds, in order that they might be purged of the " offensive and extraordinary matters" which they contained.* The severity with which Buchanan speaks, in his History, of the conduct of Queen Mary, is said to have been one considerable cause of its thus sharing * So slow was the progress of rational liberty, that for a century after, the Dialogue De Jure Regni continued an object of legislative proscription. In 1664, the privy council of Scotland issued a procla- mation, prohibiting all subjects, of whatever degree, quality, or rank, from transcribing or circulating any copies of a manuscript translation of the Dialogue De Jure Regni. And in 1683, the university of Ox- ford doomed the work to the flames, along with those of Milton, Languet, and several other political here- tics ! It may not be out of place to add the charac- ter which has been given of this once proscribed work, by one of the ablest political writers of our own day. " Buchanan," says Sir James Mackintosh, in his De- fence of the French Revolution, " seems to have been the first scholar who caught from the ancients the noble flame of republican enthusiasm. This praise is merited by his neglected, though incompara- ble tract De Jure Regni, in which the principles of popular politics, and the maxims of a free govern- ment, are delivered with a precision and enforced with an energy which no former age had equalled, and no succeeding one has surpassed." A. S. c2 16 LIVES OF EMINENT SCOTSMEN. the fate of the Dialogue De Jure Regni. Nor can it be denied, that much ought to be conceded to the warmth of a son's resentment for a mother's wrongs. But James had never hitherto shewn any thing of the feelings of a son towards his unhappy parent, and has therefore no claim to apology on that account. He had never as yet evinced more than a passing concern for her misfortunes ; nor, though rising into manhood, had he taken any step to rescue her from the afflicting captivity to which a treacherous and cruel rival had consigned her. A generous gallantry had, time after time, given birth to schemes for her release ; but the world had long waited in vain for the hour, when filial duty and national honour were to arm a son and sovereign in the ill-fated Mary's behalf. When Elizabeth w as, at length, on the eve of con- summating her cruelty to Mary, by an act of atrocity as wicked as any recorded in the annals of time, — when death on the scaffold w as the threatened termination of Mary's sufferings, — 'Jarnes did, from a regard to de- cency, what affection would probably never have prompted. He sent a remonstrance to Elizabeth, protesting against the illegality of the proceedings against his mother, and pledging his credit both at home and abroad, to revenge any injury offered to her person. Elizabeth, however, paid no attention to his remonstrance ; and the murder of Mary was per- petrated. The King of France too remonstrated against the bloody deed ; but, if Rapin may be credited, Bel- lievre, the French ambassador, had, at the same time, orders to solicit privately the execution of Mary. Had the Scotch envoy orders of the same kind ? The POETS. — JAMES THE SIXTH. 17 suppositiou shocks belief; yet Rapin does add, that Gray, the Scotch envoy, also advised in private the making her away, saying, " a dead woman bites not." Ambassadors may, at times, act without or- ders ; but it is seldom that they hazard what they are not quite sure will be agreeable to their masters. When the tidings of his mother's fate reached James, he exhibited every outward sign of grief and indignation. Elizabeth, in writing to him on the su! ject, had the impious effrontery to appeal to the supreme Judge of Heaven and Earth, that she was innocent of Mary's death ; but James seemed to re- ject, with proper disdain, her hypocritical excuses, and even set about preparations for war. There, however, his wrath ended ; for no war en- sued. James soon resumed his friendly correspon- dence with the English court, and even descended to become a pensioner on the bounty of his mother's destroyer. The pusillanimity of James, on this occasion, met soon after with a reproof, which, though not very generally known, is sufficiently remarkable. An English ship happened to be seized upon the west coast by Roderick Macneil, Laird of Barray, sur- named Roy the Turbulent. Queen Elizabeth com- plained of it to James, as an act of piracy, com- mitted upon her subjects, and insisted on redress. The Laird of Barray was accordingly brought to trial, at Edinburgh, for the offence. He was inter- rogated, why he treated Queen Elizabeth's subjects with such injustice ? Macneil replied, that he thought himself bound by his loyalty to retaliate, as much as lay in his power, the unpardonable injury 18 LIVES OF EMINENT SCOTSMEN. I done by the Queen of England to his own sovereign, and his majesty's mother. Macneil was, notwith- standing, found guilty, and his life and estate for- feited. James, however, felt too sensibly the force of the defence set up, to allow the sentence to be carried into execution. He not only granted Mac- neil his life, but so ordered matters, that the forfei- ture of property was rendered merely nominal. The crown gave a grant of the property to the tutor of Kintail, who conveyed it back to Macneil, on condi- tion of an annual payment of the trifling amount of sixty merks Scots, or 31. 6s. Sd. sterling. This was giving Elizabeth satisfaction after her own dissembling fashion, and is perhaps the only incident connected with this dark passage of Scotch and English history on which a Scotsman can look back with satisfaction. In the year 1589, James contracted a matrimonial alliance with Ann, second daughter of Erederick King of Denmark. The lad}-, on her way to Scot- land, being driven back by contrary winds, James, impatient at the detention of his bride, crossed the seas in quest of her, and, after a winter passed in feasting and revelry at Copenhagen, returned with his queen to Scotland in May, 1590. " The solemnity of the queen's coronation," says Robertson, " was conducted with great magnificence ; but so low had the order of bishops fallen in the opi- nion of the public, that none of them were present on that occasion ; and Mr. Robert Bruce, a presby- terian minister of great reputation, set the crown on her head, administered the sacred unction, and per- formed the other customary ceremonies." James, to shew his attachment to what was now POETS JAMES THE SIXTH. 19 become the prevailing religion of the people, took an opportunity of proclaiming it in a very remarkable manner, in a general assembly of the presbyterian clergy, held at Edinburgli shortly after his arrival from Denmark- *' He stood up," says Calderwood, with his bonnet off, and his hands lifted up to heaven, and said, he praised God that he was born in the time of the light of the gospel, and in such a place, as to be king of such a church, the sincerest kirk in the ■world. The church of Geneva keep Pasche and Yule (Easter and Christmas). What have they for them ? They ■^lave no institution. As for our neigh- bour kirk of England, their service is an evil said mass in English ; they want nothing of the mass but the liftings. I charge you, my good ministers, doc- tors, elders, nobles, gentlemen, and barons, to stand to your purity, and to exhort the people to do the same, and I forsooth as long as I brook life, shall maintain the same." Notwithstanding the warmth of this protestation, the presbyterian clergy appear to have placed no faith in its sincerity ; and the old warfare between the pulpit and throne was speedily revived. They sus- pected James of a secret inclination to popery ; and there is sufficient evidence extant to shew, that he was, at least, no friend at heart to that presbyterian church, which he publicly pretended to regard as " the sincerest kirk in the world." A deputation from another general assembly, which met in May, 1592, drew from James a very different sort of harangue from that which we have just quoted. He expressed to the deputation, in terms of great vehemence, his indignation against the clergy for 20 LIVES OF EMINENT SCOTSMEN. speaking with so much freedom from the pulpit against him and his nobility, and defending the con- duct of the Earl of Murray, Buchanan, and Knox ; who, added his majesty, " could only be defended by traitors and seditious theologues." The deputation seem, at first, to have replied with some degree of reserve ; but the audience being renewed in the af- ternoon, Andrew Melvin spoke out with such un- measured boldness in defence of the objects of his majesty's resentment, that the Chancellor (Arran) told him, that he had appeared to have forgotten "the errand he came for." Melvin undauntedly replied, that he would not be silenced b^^ him or any other subject. The king renewed his censure of the good regent, (as Murray was called,) and his two adhe- rents ; and particularly objected to Buchanan's book, DeJure Regni. " These men," said Melvin, " placed the crown on your majesty's head." " No," replied James, " the crown came to me by succession, and not through the favour of any man." JMelvin re- joined, that " thej were, however, the instruments, and whoever has prejudiced j'onr mind against them is neither true to your majesty, nor to the common- wealth." The king afterwards remarked, that Knox had called his mother a , and had approved of " the slaughter of David" in her presence. ♦' If a king or queen," said Patrick Galloway, " be a mur- derer, why should they not be called so r" The jealousy with which the clergy regarded James, never slept. Some new circumstance of sus- picion was constantly arising to wake it into phrenzy. When the Spanish armada invaded England, some nobles of Scotland, who still adhered to the ancient POETS.— JAMES THE SIXTH. 21 faith, had entered into a conspiracy in its favour j and, on being detected, were banished the country. After a short absence, James was prevailed on to suffer their return. The clergy immediately sounded the alarm of the danger from popery, and railed against the king for his clemency in the bitterest terms. In particular, one Black, a minister of St. Andrew's, in a sermon, declared, that the king, by permitting the return of the popish lords, had demon- strated the treachery of his heart ; he said, that all kings were the devil's children; that Satan ruled the Scottish court ; '1;hat Queen Elizabeth was an atheist; that the nobility were enemies to the church ; and the Lords of Session a set of miscreants and bribers. Black was summoned to answer for this extravagant abuse before the privy council ; but he insisted, that the conduct or language of a clergyman in the pul- pit could only be tried before the ecclesiastical courts. The king found himself too weak to inflict any pu- nishment upon the " seditious theologue ;" and his brethren, the clergy, instead of censuring his conduct, ordained a solemn fast to be kept, to avert impend- ing judgments, on account of the ill-treatment of the faithful pastors of the church. The ministers of Edinburgh shewed especial zeal on the occasion ; stirred to it, we are told, by an anonymous letter, which intimated that the king had some dangerous scheme on foot against them. Walter Balcauqual, after a long invective from the pulpit against the treachery of the king and his ministers, addressed himself to the nobility then present, and called on them to imitate the conduct of their ancestors in zealously supporting their religion ; and requested 22 LIVES OF EMINENT SCOTSMEN. the principal persons present to meet at the end of the service, to assist himself and his colleagues with their advice. At this conference, a petition was pre- pared and ordered to be presented to the king by two noblemen, two gentlemen, and two ministers. The persons who presented the petition treated his majesty with little ceremony ; and a multitude of people crowding into the presence after them, the king be- came alarmed, and withdrew suddenly into another room, the doors of which he ordered to be made fast. When the people learned that the king had thus evaded giving an ear to their complaints, they became quite outrageous, and, if they had not been restrained by the deacon convener, to whom it belonged to unfurl the bluei blanket,* there was great danger that they would have forced open the doors, and destroyed the king and all that were with him. James, to avoid a second petition, withdrew from Edinburgh to Linlithgow, from which he issued a pro- clamation, reciting the " treasonable uproar" which had driven him from the capital, and commanding the Lords of Session to remove from it as "an unsafe place for the ministration of justice," and " all noble- men and barons to despatch them to their homes, and not presume to convene either in that or any other place, without his majesty's licence, under the pain of his highness's displeasure." The obedience shewn to this proclamation was more general and implicit than might have been ex- * The ancient banner ; the unfurling of which was a signal of danger, on which all the citizens of Edin- burgh were bound to rally around it. POETS.— JAMES THE SIXTH. 23 pected. The rage of the people subsided wonder- fully ; and their ministers, after attempting in vain to procure an association of the nobility and gentry in their defence, were under the necessity of flying to England. A meeting of parliament was called by James ; and the tumult having been declared high treason, a resolution was adopted to commence a pro- cess against the incorporation of Edinburgh. The affair, however, was finally hushed up, by the city's agreeing to pay to the king a fine of 20,000 raerks. The attention of the people was now drawn to an event which has^ been justly termed one of the most problematical in Scottish history — the celebrated Cowrie Conspiracy. James shall himself be the rela- ter of the story of this extraordinary transaction. On the 5th of August, 1600, says the authentic ac- count which his majesty published, when James was re- siding atFalkland, going out to hunt in the morning, he was accosted by Alexander Ruthven, who informed him, that on the preceding evening he had seized a stranger, who had under his cloak a pot filled with a vast quantity of foreign gold ; that he had secured the stranger, and thought it his duty to inform the king. James suspected him to be a foreign priest, come to excite commotions in the kingdom, and wished to send authority to the magistrates of Perth to en- quire into the matter; but Ruthven eagerly persuaded the king to go in person for that purpose. The king accordingly went to Perth, with only twenty persons in his train, and was met by the Earl of Gowrie and several citizens. The king was invited to a repast at the earl's house, during which the earl is said to have looked pensive and embarassed. When the repast 24 LIVES OF EMINENT SCOTSMEN, was over, and his majesty's attendants had retired to dine in another room, Ruthven whispered James, that now was the time to go to the chamber where the stranger was kept. James assenting, Ruthven con- ducted him up a staircase, and then through several apartments, the doors of which he locked behind him, till he came to a small study, in which there stood a man clad in armour, with a sword and a dag- ger by his side. The king, who expected to have found one disarmed and bound, started, and inquired if this was the person ? On this, Ruthven snatching the dagger from the girdle of the man in armour, and holding it to the king's breast, " Remember," said he, " how unjustly my father suffered by your com- mand ; you are now my prisoner ; submit to my dis- posal without resistance or outcry ; or this dagger shall avenge his blood." James expostulated with Ruthven ; entreated and flattered him. The man in armour stood all the while motionless. Ruthven pro- tested, that if the king raised no outcry his life should be safe ; and then, moved by some unknown reason, retired from the closet to call his brother, leaving to the man in armour the care of the king, whom he bound by oath not to make any noise in his absence. While the king was in this critical situation, his attendants growing impatient to know whether he had retired, one of Gowrie's servants entered hastily, and told them the king had just rode away to Falk- land. All of them rushed out into the street, and Gowrie seconding their hurry, called for their horses to be got ready. By this time, his brother, Alexan- der Ruthven, had joined the king, and swearing that there was no alternative, but that he must die, oifercd POETS.— JAMES THE SIXTH. 25 to bind his hands. Unarmed as James was, he scorn- ed to submit to tliat indignity, and closing with the assassin, a fierce struggle ensued. The man in ar- mour still stood as before, amazed and motionless ; and the king, dragging Ruthven towards a window, which, during his absence, he had persuaded the per- son with whom he was left to open, cried, with a wild and aifrighted voice, " Treason ! Treason ! Help ! I am murdered." His attendants heard and knew the voice, and saw at the window a hand v.hich grasped the king's neck with violence. They flew to his assistance. The Duke of Lennox and Earl of Mar, with the greater number, ran up the principal staircase, but found all the doors shut. Sir John Ramsay, with a few others, entering by a back staircase which led to the apart- ment where the king was, found the door open, and rushing upon Ruthven, who was still struggling with the king, struck him twice with his dagger, and thrust him towards the staircase, where Sir Thomas Erskine and Sir Hugh Herries met and killed him ; Ruthven crying with his last breath, " Alas ! I am not to blame for this action." During this scuffle, the man in armour, who had been concealed in the study, escaped unobserved. Along with Ramsay, Erskine, and Herries, one AVilson, a footman, returned into the room w here the king was ; but before they had time to close the door, Gowrie rushed in with a drawn sword in each hand, followed by seven of his at- tendants well armed, and, with a loud voice, threat- ened them all with instant death. Ramsay and his party, though so unequal in numbers, faced the earl, and a smart encounter ensued ; Ramsay pierced TART 3.] D 26 LIVES OF EMINENT SCOTSMEN. Gowrie through the heart, who fell down dead with- out uttering a word ; and his followers having received several wounds, immediately fled. A great noise still continued at the door opening from the principal staircase, where many persons were labouring in vain to force a passage. The king, being assured that they were Lennox, JMar, and his otlier friends, ordered them to be admitted. On their rushing forward and find- ing the king unexpectedly safe, nothing could exceed the warmth of their congratulations ; and James fall- ing on his knees with all his attendants around him, otfered solemn thanks to God for so wonderful a de- liverance. The danger, however, was not yet over. The in- habitants of the town, whose Provost Gowrie was, and by whom he was extremely beloved, hearing of the fate of the two brothers, ran to arms and sur- rounded the house, threatening revenge and making use of many insolent and opprobrious expressions against the king. James endeavoured to pacify the enraged multitude by speaking to them from the window ; he admitted their magistrates into the house, and related to them the whole circumstances as they had occurred ; these being repeated to the people, their fury subsided and they dispersed. The bodies of tlie two brothers were committed to the custody of the magistrates of Perth, and the king returned in the evening to Falkland. Diligent search was made for the man in armour, from whom great discoveries were expected ; but Henderson, the Earl of Cowrie's steward, who, upon a promise of pardon, confessed himself to be the man, declared he was quite a stranger to the designs of his POETS.— JAMES THE SIXTH. 27 master, and though placed in the closet by his command, he did not even know for what end that station had been assigned him. Three other attend- ants of the earl being convicted of assisting him in his assault upon the king's servants, were executed at Perth ; but they could throw no light on the particu- lar object which their master had in view. A violent dispute on the subject of this conspiracy ensued between the king and the clergy. The latter asserted, that the minute detail published by the court was a mere fabrication to cover a plan which James had fornled and executed for destroying two popular characters who were favorable to the pres- byterian interest, and whose family was odious to James. They, therefore, refused to return public thanks to God for the king's escape, and some of them, en this account, were banished. Nor was it at home alone that the story of the conspiracy was discredited. Osbom tells us, that not a Scotsman could be met with beyond sea who did not laugh at it, and agree that the relation murdered all possibility of credit. It was, indeed, a strange story. Two brothers conceive the design of murdering the king in revenge for their father's death ; and the mode which they de- vise as the fittest for the bloody purpose, is to wile the king to their own castle, so that there may be no doubt who committed the deed, nor any chance of escaping the punishment which it merited ! James is conducted into a closet to be murdered, in the presence of a man in armour, who, though in armour, is placed there for no other purpose than to look on ; the assassins being careful that the foul deed should D 2 28 LIVES OF EMINENT SCOTSMEN, not be committed without some person to witness, and, if necessary, to swear afterwards which of the brothers struck the deadly blow. Gowrie has not heart enough for the job, and throws the execution of it on his brother Alexander, who, instead of poignard- ing James at once, as he might have done, and as any ordinar}^ assassin would have done, first proceeds, with all the decent formality of a public executioner, to apprise James that his last hour is now come, and that he must, for quietness sake, suffer his hands to be tied ! James, animated by the desperation of the moment, with a courage which nature had denied to him constitutionally, struggles with Ruthven, and, in spite of the odds against him, succeeds in dragging the assassin to the window ; which window, by the wa^', James, as if he foresaw what was to happen, had cunningly taken care to prevail on the man in armour to open, while Gowrie had gone out for his brother ! Minutes elapse before Sir John Ramsay, alarmed by the cries of the king, can reach the closet ; and James is all this while struggling for his life against a man armed with a dagger, and escapes without a single wound or even scratch to swear by ! Ruthven, though so hard pressed, though on the brink of ex- posure and destruction, never asks his man in armour to lend a hand ; and the man in armour as unaccoun- tably stands by and never offers to take his master's part ! Gowrie rushes in to his brother's aid, and not content with one trusty rapier, comes armed with a sword in each hand ! In short it would be endless to recapitulate all the absurdities witli which the story is fraught. It is from beginning to end a mass of pal- pable invention. We may well say with JMr. Robert POETS. — JAMES THE SIXTH. 29 Bruce, one of the clerg^nnen who demurred at thank- ing the Almighty for the discomfiture of this pre- tended conspiracy ; " if we must, on pain of death, reverence his majesty's reports of this transaction, we will reverence them ; but we cannot say we are per- suaded of the truth of them." The only part of this nnsterious proceeding, of which, unfortunately, there is no reason to doubt, is that the two brothers were violently put to death by the king's followers, when, if they had done any thing to merit death, they might have been as easily seized and brought to ^a legal trial. It is shocking to sup- pose, that James could have been accessary to a plot for taking away the lives of two innocent men be- loved for their virtues ; but he has left us no alter- native between believing so, or believing another story which sets all credibility at defiance. It was the duty of James, as he regarded his character, to shew that a tragical event, in which he played so principal a part, was justifiably brought about ; and since he has failed — miserably failed, in doing so, the world can- not be to blame that doth accuse him. In 160S, the death of Queen Elizabeth opened, for James, the way to the English throne. On the sun- day previous to his departure for England, he went to the church of Saint Giles, as if to take a solemn fare- well of the subjects of his native kingdom. The mi- nister preached an appropriate discourse ; and, the people seeming to be much moved, the king addressed them, at the end of the service ; — expressed his great attachment to them ; requested them not to be de- jected on account of his departure ; and promised, that as his power of serving them was now increased, D 3 30 LIVES OF EMINExNT SCOTSMEN. they should derive a proportionable advantage from his liberality. It was thouglit by some individuals of consideration in England, particularly Lord Cobliam, Sir Walter Raleigh, and Sir John Fortescue, that the accession of a stranger to the English throne, afforded a favorable opportunity for fixing, in a more precise manner than had yet been done, the bounds of the royal preroga- tive ; and they were, therefore, desirous of having a declaration of rights prepared for James's assent, in the same manner as was afterwards done with respect to William, at the revolution of 1688. In this wise and patriotic design, however, they were overruled by Cecil, Northumberland, and others of greater influence, who wished to curry favour with the new monarch ; and James was allowed to ascend the English throne, unfettered by a single stipulation. The opinions which James was known to entertain, on the subject of kingly power, made this want of a compact the more to be lamented. The flatterers, with whom he had, from his boyhood, been surrounded had completely eradicated all that respect for popular rights, which his early preceptor, Buchanan, had la- boured to instil into his mind ; and by his solemn proscription of the Dialogue De Jure Regni, he had proclaimed to the world, that it was b}' the tenure of divine and hereditary right alone, he held the sove- reignty of one kindom, and aspired to that of another. When, accordingly, he was allowed to take posses- sion," without ceremony, of the vacant tlirone of Eng- land, he did so with an idea that he succeeded to the same nearly unlimited power, which, for upwards of a century, had been exercised by the English sovereigns. POETS.— JAMES THE SIXTH. 31 The able conduct and peculiar conjunctures of cir- cumstances to which his predecessors were so much indebted for the preservation of the sceptre, he seems to have entirely overlooked ; and to one who could imagine that they had reigned so long by the mere force of their divine right, it was a matter of natural inference, that there could be no danger or difficulty in trusting to the same convenient sanction for what- ever he should please to do ; no matter, how impru- dent, unjust, intolerant, or capricious. That this is no exaggerated picture of James's real sentiments, is proved by his public declarations on more than one occasion. In a speech to parliament in 1621, he was pleased to reprove them in very sharp terms, for not saying " that their privileges were de- rived from the grace and permission of him and his ancestors.'' And when the same parliament protested that " the liberties, franchises, privileges, and juris- dictions of parliament are the ancient and undoubted birthright and inheritance of the subjects of England ;" he was so enraged, that, sending for the journals of the Commons, he, with his own hand, before the covmcil, tore out this protestation, and ordered his reprobation of such extraordinary doctrine to be recorded in the Council book. Had James been a prince of ability and virtue, it would have been a matter of indifference what his speculative opinions were, respecting the relationship between kings and their subjects. He would have ruled well in spite of them ; nor would the want of a constitutional compact have been greatly felt. But being of a weak mind and corrupt disposition, the extravagant notion which he entertained of the royal 32 LIVES OF EMINENT SCOTSMEN, prerogative, could only be expected to serve as an apology for unbounded folly and great wickedness. To the interested policy of Cecil and his party, we may, thertfore, in a great measure ascribe the calami- ties which were brought upon the English and Scottish nations, by the arbitrary pretensions of the Stuart race. They might have established the rights of the people on a sure basis, and they did not ; for the sake of sharing in the first spoils of despotism, they gave up their country into its hands for ages. One of the first uses which James made of his new- ly-acquired power, was of a nature peculiarly calcu- lated to give oflfence to the English nation. He was followed to England as to another Canaan, overflow- ing with milk and honey, by numbers of the neediest and least worthy of his countrv-men ; and, true to the promise which he made when leaving Edinburgh, he was not sparing to them of the good things which he had it now in his power to bestow. Wealth and ho- nors were showered upon them with the most indecent profusion ; nay, so public did the reproach become, that James was under the necessity of making some apology for it to parliament. The manner in which he excused himself presents a curious specimen of ingenuous assurance. " Had I been oversparing to them," said he, " they might have thought Joseph had forgotten his brethren, or that the king had been drunk with his new kingdom. If I did respect the English when I came first— what might the Scotch have justly said, if I had not in some measure dealt bountifully with them that so long had served me, so far adventured themselves with me, and been so faith- ful to me ? Such particular persons of the Scottish POETS.— JAMES THE SIXTH. 33 nation as might claim any extraordinary merit at my hands, 1 have already seasonably rewarded ; and I can assure you that there is none left for whom I mean extraordinarily to strain myself farther." It is true, that, bountiful as James was to his own countrymen, he was still more so to some of his new subjects. Sir Anthony Weldon tells us, that " they that then lived at court, and were curious observers of every man's actions, could have affirmed that Salis- bury, Suffolk, and Northampton, and their friends did get more than the whole nation of Scotland, Dunbar excepted. All the Scots in general scarce got the tythe of these English getters." The English nation had doubtless great reason to complain of the prodigality of their new monarch ; but, not because he shewed more favour to the natives of the one kingdom, than those of the other ; they had to lament a prince intoxicated by his exaltation ; a prince whose ear was to be gained by any one, whether Scotch or English, who could minister to his vanity or amusement ; a prince, unable to appreciate either the value of what he gave away, or the merit of khose on whom it was bestowed. " Merit, as such," (Harris sa3's very truly, " was always neglected or over- looked by him ; he knew it not, or regarded it not, but [preferred his flatterers to all others." James, in a speech to parliament. Anno 1609, owned that " at his entrance into England, they saw |him make knights by hundreds, and barons in great number." Osborn assures us, that in the first two jyears of his reign, he made the amazing number of one thousand and twenty -two knights; and from Torbuck's Parliamentary Debates, we learn that he 34 LIVES OF EMINENT SCOTSMEN, added no less than sixty-two members to the peerage I — Such a prostitution of honors and preferments would have been of pernicious example, on whomsoever conferred ; but to the English nation it was certainly no small aggravation of the evil, that any large pro- portion of them should have been borne off by indi- viduals, who were aliens to the country at whose ex- pense they took place. It is impossible not to sub- scribe to the justice of what Harris sa^s on this head. " Had there been an union of the two kingdoms, this had doubtless been good policy ; but as there was not, these preferments could serve no other end, but to create jealousies among the English, and excite complaints. For why should men of another country have the power of legislation? Why should tiny whose property lay elsewhere, and whose connections were at a distance, have a power of enacting laws which they themselves might easily get out of the reach of, and their families be free from ? But such was the will of James, who, though he seldom considered himself, cared not to be counselled, and therefore ge- nerally acted unwisel3\" The attachment which James had professed while in Scotland, for the Presbyterian church, " the sin- cerest church in the world," as he was pleased to call it, led the Puritans in England, a sect of kindred spirit and doctrines, to indulge strong hopes of favour, in the sight of their new sovereign. An address sign- ed by no less than seven hundred and fifty ministers of this persuasion, was presented to James, congratu- lating him on his accession to the throne. James, however, quickly convinced them, that they had fal- len into a very unscriptural delusion in " putting their POETS.— JAMES THE SIXTH. 35 faith in princes." The celebrated conference at Hamp- ton-court was summoned, for the professed purpose of examining into the objections of the puritans, against the doctrine, government, and discipline of the esta- blished church ; but in reality to afford James an op- portunity of publicly recanting all he had ever said in their favour, and of shewing with what kingly decen- cy he could abuse and laugh at men, among whom he had before blessed heaven, it was his lot to be cast. " I will tell you," said he, to the lords and bishops ; "I have lived among this sort of men ever since I was ten years old ; btit I may say of myself, as Christ said of himself, though I have lived among them, yet since 1 had ability to judge, I was never of them," Speaking of Scotch Presbyterianism, he added, that " it agreed with a monarchy as God, and the Devil. That Jack and Tom, and Will and Dick, shall meet, and at their pleasure censure me and ray coun- cil, and all our proceedings.' Then Will shall stand up and say, it must be thus ; then Dick shall reply, and say, * Nay, marry, but we will have it thus.' " — If this, concluded he, addressing himself to the pu- ritan delegates, was all they aimed at, " he would make them conform, or would hurry them out of the land, or else do worse."* We may see from this, that it w as not without abundant reason the Scot- tish clergy distrusted James's professions of at- tachment to their religion j and those who may be * Barlow's Account of the Conference at Hampton Court. 36 LIVES OF EMINENT SCOTSMEN, disposed to condemn the acrimonious style of warfare which they waged against him from their pulpits, ought to make considerable allowance for the fact, that it was against an enemy who would have de- stroyed them if he could, that they contended. The English puritans, so far from having the laws against them relaxed, found them, throughout the whole of James's reign, enforced with greater seventy than ever. The consequence, as Oldcastle well re- marks, was, that " those sects who were not danger- ous at first, became so at last ; for nothing is found more true in nature and experience than this, that they who are oppressed by governments will endea- vour to change them ; and that he who makes himself temble to multitudes will have multitudes to fear." The decided part which James took against (lie puritans gained him, of course, boundless praise from their prelatical opponents. Archbishop Whitgift, in complimenting James on the part he took in the Conference^ said, that " undoubtedly his majesty spake by the special assistance of God's spirit ?" And Bishop Bancroft (who had a step to gain which the archbishop had not) falling on his knees, pro- tested that, " his heart melted with joy, and made haste to acknowledge unto Almighty God his singu- lar mercy in giving them such a king, as since Christ's time the like had not been."* "What can we think of the honesty of men who could descend to such im- pious flattery as this, or of the understanding ol :i prince who could listen to it with satisfaction ? * Barlow. POETS.— JAMES THE SIXTH. 37 James, not content with thus abjuring the religion in which he had been brought up, and which he had sworn " as long as he brooked life to maintain," re- solved to exert all the increased authority and power which he possessed to force his countrymen to abjure it also. " I will have one doctrine," said he at the conference, " and one discipline ; one religion in substance and in ceremony." That religion he re- solved should be episcopacy ; asserting, that it was as much diviiKB ordinationis as royalty itself. " No bishop, no king," was an aphorism for ever in his mouth. James, however, over-rated his power pro- digiously, in supposing that he could force back this rejected dogma on the Scottish people. The doc- trines of presbyterianism had gained an acceptance among them which nothing could weaken ; and James saw all his etForts to produce a change absolutely abortive. He even paid a visit to Scotland, (a. d. 1617,) with the express design of restoring episco- pacy ; but it was only to have the ra rtification of being personally convinced of the possibility of a king's being so foolish as to attempt what was impos- sible. Although the fires of persecution were not re-lighted in Scotland, it must have been rather from a want of power than will on the part of James, that they were not. He gave proofs in England, that there was no extremity, however cruel, to which his despotic spirit would not carry him. In 1611 » he caused two of his EngUsh subjects, Bartholomew Legate and Edward Wightman, to be burnt for heresy ; the one at Smith- field, and the other at Litchfield. And what can any one imagine were their heresies ? Legate was a IMa- PART 3.] E 441339 38 LIVES OF EMINENT SCOTSMEN. nichean, and Wightman thought he was the prophet spoken of in the eighteenth of Deuteronomy ! The history of James's life in England was stained by but too many similar acts of arbitrary cruelty% The whole of his internal government consisted, in- deed, of little else than acts of aggression on the rights and liberties of his people, frequently aggrava- ted by peculiar features of wantonness and rigour. The murder of Sir Walter Raleigh, the glory of his age and nation, to please the court of Spain ; the pardon of his majesty's favorite, the Duke of Somerset, and his lady, for poisoning Sir Thomas Overbury, after ha- ving invoked, on his knees, the vengeance of heaven on himself and his posterity, if he did not yield them up to justice ; the imprisonment of the Earl of Northumberland for fourteen years, in addition to an exaction of thirty thousand pounds, on a mere suspi- cion, unsupported by the least proof, of his being privy to the gunpowder plot ; the committal to the tower of several members of the House of Commons, and the banishment of others for presuming to assert that the people of England possessed any right which did not flow entirely from the grace and favour of their sovereigns: — such were a few of those acts, which gave a character of oppression and profligacy to the domestic administration of James, seldom be- fore exceeded in the history of England. Nor did James confine himself to conduct, the evil of which might perish with him. In the sufficiency of his self-conceit, he must needs become a legislator, and confer on England a law, which was to do the work of ignorance and inhumanity long after he should be no more. It is painful to be obliged to POETS.— JAMES THE SIXTH. 39 speak thus severely of a prince of our native line ; but, can less be said of that law which first made witchcraft a crime in England, and has been the cause of consigning hundreds and thousands to an ignominious death, for an impossible offence ? James had, before leaving Scotland, written and published a " Treatise on Daemonologie," in which he had endea- voured, with great shew of learning, to " resolve die doubting hearts of many," as to the " fearful abound- ing of those detestable slaves of the devil, witches or enchanters," and established, to his own satisfac- tion, that " wilches ought to be put to death accord- ing to the law of God, the civil and imperial law, and the municipal law of all Christian nations." He now resolved to let his English subjects have the be- nefit of this sensible discovery ; and found the parlia- ment foolish enough to concur with him in passing that law, on which so many capital convictions have taken place for witchcraft, and which remained, for upwards of a century, a disgrace to the statute book, and to the national character. A tyrant at home, James was a truckler abroad ; and though England enjoyed an unwonted length of peace during his reign, it was a blessing gained by a sacrifice of character and advantages, for which it ill compensated. He had scarcely seized the sceptre, when he gave peace to Spain without being asked for it; and thus lost, as Comwallis, the ambassa- dor whom he sent to Madrid, says in a letter to Cecil, " such an opportunity of winning honor and wealth," as England never before possessed. He afterwards allowed the Spaniards, whom he had thus foolishly favoured, to ill-treat, defraud, and even mas- E 2 40 LIVES OF EMINENT SCOTSMEN, sacre* British subjects with impunity. He beheld his son-in-law, the Elector Palatine, and in him the protestant cause, about to be overwhelmed b^- a coa- lition of enemies ; and to save both, sent over — an aid of one regiment of foot ! He saw the Palatinate lost through his pusillanimity, and then weakly imagined that he could reason princes, flushed with victory, out of their conquest. He allowed his unfortunate daughter, her husband, and her children, to drag out a long exile in a foreign land, without aifording them any of those helps which duty and humanity required at his hands. He suflfered the British flag, which had never before known dishonor, to be grossly in- sulted, and our merchant ships to be pillaged, by the Dutch ; contenting himself with sending a remon- strance, which the Dutch, viewing it as it deserved, passed over unheeded. Nay, as if there had been no fitter way for an independent prince to resent in- juries, than to heap favours on his enemies ; notwith- standing all the Dutch had done, he consented to de- liver up to them the cautionary towns which they had deposited in the hands of Queen Elizabeth, on their paying five millions less than the sum for which they stood pledged ; and thus relieved them besides from that state of dependance on Britain, which had * Sir Walter Ealeigh speaks of it as a known fact, that " the Spaniards murthered twenty-six English- men, tying them back to back, and then cutting their throats, when they had traded with them a whole month, and came to them on the land without so much as one sword." POETS.— JAMES THE SIXTH. 41 been hitherto regarded as the right arm of our con- tinental policy. The massacre at Amboyna was now all that was wanted to place beyond doubt, whether it was possible to rouse a spark of the man or sove- reign in him. He submitted to this unexampled in- jury, even without requiring satisfaction, and contented himself with whiningly telling the Dutch ambassador, " that he had never heard nor read a more cruel and impious act than that of Amboyna. But," continued he, " I do forgive them, and I hope God will ; but my son's son* shall revenge this blood, and punish this horrid massacre." Need we be surprised that such a course of con- duct should have made James an object of ridicule among foreign nations, and of contempt with his own? All over the continent, caricatures of him were to be seen, exhibiting him in the most ludicrous situations. In one place, he was represented with a scabbard without a sword ; in another, with a sword stuck so fast in the scabbard, that no body could draw it ; and in a third, carrying a cradle after his poor daughter, the Electress Palatine, who, with dishevelled hair and tattered garments, was trudging along with a child on her back. The French had their epigram too on the occasion, the point of which is, with some loss of elegance, preserved in the following old version. * James proved a false prophet. It was left to ( Cromwell to obtain satisfaction for this, as well as other wrongs, which Britain had endured during the reigns of his legitimate predecessors. a. s. 42 LIVES OF EMINENT SCOTSMEN. While Elizabeth was England's king. That dreadful name through Spain did ring ; How alter'd is the case — ad sa' me ! These jugling days of gude Queen Jamie.* But although the sword of James was truly one which nobod3- could draw,t he had a pen which was at almost every one's service, and which, if goose quills could do the work of armies, would have done wonders. In a speech delivered at Whitehall in 1609, he was pleased to say, that " with his own pen he had brought the pope's quarrel upon him, and proclaimed public defiance to Babylon." His majesty alluded to an Apology, which he had written, for the Oath of Allegiance, (appointed to be taken after the detection of the gunpowder plot,) in answer to an * Tandis qu'EIizabeth fut Ro}^ L'Anglois fut d'Espague I'eflEToy ; Maintenant, devise et coquette Regi par la Reine Jaquette. t He is said to have had, from infancy, an uncon- querable aversion to tlie sight of a naked sword, de- rived, it is supposed, from the shock which his mo- ther, when pregnant with him, received from the as- sassination, in her presence, of David Rizzio. When conferring the honor of knighthood, it was as much as he could do to hold the sword for the moment, and he always lessened the terror by turning away his head. It is curious to observe, bow completely this physical peculiarity had transferred itself to his moral character. a. s. POETS.— JAMES THE SIXTH. 43 attack made on it by two briefs of Pope Paulus Quintus, and a letter from Cardinal Bellarraine. Ac- cording to Bishop Montague, his majesty had, at first, merely intended to write instructions to the Bishop of Winchester, how an answer ought to be drawn up ; " but it fell out true, that the poet saith, -^amphora ccEpit Institui : currente rota urceus exit, for the king's pen ran so fast, that in the compass of six days his majesty had accomplished that which he now calleth his Apology ; which when my lord of Canterbvury that then was, (Bancroft,) and my lord of Ely, (Andrews,) had perused, they thought it so sufficient an answer both to the pope and cardinal, as needed no other." This Apology soon drew forth a number of replies, which induced James to follow it up with a " Premonition to all most mighty mo- narchs, kings, free princes, and states of Christen- dom;" copies of which were transmitted through his ambassadors to every court in Europe. It met, how- ever, with but an indifferent reception ; there were some courts even uncivil enough to refuse to have any thing to do with it. From Winwood, it appears, that there was as much manoeuvring to get a copy of the book put into the King of Spain's hands, as would have sufficed to conclude half a dozen treaties. It ended in the Duke of Lerraa's apprizing the En- glish ambassador, that " the King of Spain would never receive, much less give reading to, any book containing matter derogatory to his religion and obe- dience to the see of Rome." This silenced our am- 44 LIVES OF EMINENT SCOTSMEN. bassador ; he did not dare to present the book ; and brought it back with him to England. This, as Har- ris observes, must have been a provoking aflfront " to one so full of his own abilities as James I He thought doubtless, that his fellow kings, with attention, would have read his works, applauded his talents, and mag- nified his art and dexterity in controversy. But he was mistaken ; few foreigners spoke well of his writ- ings." His pen appears, in short, to have been about as impotent as his sword. Are there, then, no fair points in James's character on which one may, for a moment, rest with satisfac- tion ? Vain of learning in himself, he respected and patronized it in others ; but in return, he required a degree of adulation which put the sincerity of genius to the blush. Even the master spirit of Bacon was forced to descend to the most disgusting flatteries to secure some share in his favour. Ben Jonson was thrown into prison for daring to say just what he thought ; and the learned Vorstius, though a foreign- er, was, through his influence, (for he could crush a poor author, when he durst not look the pettiest po- tentate in the face,) persecuted to destruction, for differing with him in opinion. He promoted the arts, but without being able to appreciate their me- rits : desirous of employing Inigo Jones, but not exactly knowing how, he set him upon discovering, that is, guessing, who were the founders of Stone- henge ! He sought to encourage trade ; but it was by privileges and monopolies, the greatest enemies to successful trade which power ever devised. These were, it is true, in the spirit of the age, but they were still more according to the spirit of James, who de- POETS.— JAMES THE SIXTH. 45 lighted in conferring benefits only in as far as they shewed an exertion of power. One good only did England owe to James, of which we may venture to speak with unqualified praise. He \vas the means of accomplishing that translation of the Holy Scriptures which we still use, which not only exceeded all that •went before it in purity, but still remains, and will probably long remain, without a rival. The portion of his dominions which he governed best, was that with which he had the least to do. Ireland made a greater stride in civilization during his reign, than fer a whole century preceding. The measures taken for its improvement were marked by great sagacity, comprehension, and energy ; a praise in which it is scarcely necessary to say, James could personally have little share. He was fortunate in the choice of his viceroys ; and that is perhaps the ex- tent of the praise which belongs to him in regard to Ireland. The same attachment to favorites, which distin- guished James before his arrival in England, con- tinued with him to the last. Arran was succeeded I by Somerset, and Somerset by Villiers, who, with no other recommendations than a fine person and in- sinuating manners, gained so strong a hold on the king's affections, as to be raised, within the space of a few 3'ears, from the rank of a private gentleman to be Duke of Buckingham and Admiral of England. The ascendancy which all his favorites, especially Buck- ingham, acquired over him, was of the most degrading description. He could refuse them nothing ; and there was nothing, however insulting, which he would not bear at their hands. Clarendon tells us, that 46 LIVES OF EMINENT SCOTSMEN, when James once attempted to dissuade Buckingham from a step to which he had before thoughtlessly given his consent, the haughty minion had the rude- ness to tell his majesty, that " Nobody could believe any thing he said ; that he plainly discerned that he had been communicating with some rascal, who had furnished him with those pitiful reasons he had alleged, (in apology for his breach of promise,) and that he doubted not, but he should hereafter know who his counsellor had been." James, at the same time, was not without some few persons about him who could speak to him in the lan- guage of disinterestedness and truth. Mention is parti- cularly made of one Ferguson, who had been his play- fellow when 3-oung, and had accompanied him into England, who, availing himself of the rights of friend- ship, frequently took the liberty of advising, and sometimes admonishing, or rather reproving, his so- vereign. He was a man truly honest ; he inherited from his ancestors an independent patrimony, and had no ambition to be wealthier than they had left him. The king was, however, often vexed by his freedoms, and, at length, said to him, between jest and earnest, "You are perpetually censuring ray conduct : I'll make jou a king some time or other, and let us see what sort of a king you will be." Ac- cordingly, one day the company at court being very jovial, it came into his majesty's head to execute this project ; and so, calling Ferguson, he ordered him into the chair of state, bidding him " there play the king," while, for his part, he would personate " John- ny Ferguson." This farce was, in the beginning, very agreeable to the whole company. The mock POETS JAMES THE SIXTH. 47 sovereign put on the airs of royalty, and talked to those about him in a strain much like that of the real one, only with less pedantry. All were infinitely pleased with the joke, and it was quite a comedy, till the unlucky knave turned the tables, and began, all of a sudden, to moralize on the vanity of honour, wealth, and pleasure ; to talk of the insincerity, ve- nality, and corruption, of courtiers and servants of the crown ; to shew how entirely they had their own interests at heart, and how generally their pretended zeal and assiduity were the disguise of falsehood and flattery. This discourse produced a change in some of the countenances of the listeners, and even the real monarch did not relish it altogether. But the monitor did not stop here ; he proceeded to level a particular satire at the king, which made his majesty more seriously repent that he had introduced the en- tertainment, for it painted him in his true colours, as ; one that never " loved a wise man, nor rewarded an I honest one, unless they sacrificed to his vanity ; while ! he loaded those, who prostituted themselves to his I will, with wealth and honours." The mimic king, pointing directly to James, (who had agreed to per- { sonate Ferguson,) and raising his voice, " There ! (said he) stands a man, whom I would have you imi- ! tate. — The honest creature was the comrade of my i childhood, and regards me with a most cordial aifec- . tion to this very moment. He has testified his friend- ship by all the means in his power, studying my i welfare, guarding me from evil counsellors, prompt- ,| ihg me to princely actions, and warning me of every I I danger; for all which, however, he never asked me for any thing ; and by Jove, though I squandered 48 LIVES OF EMINENT SCOTSMEN. thousands upon several of you, yet in the whole course of my life I never gave him a farthing." The king, nettled by this sarcasm, cried out to Ferguson, " Augh ! you pawky loon, what wad ye be at ? Awa' afF my thrane, and let's hae nae mair o' your nonsense." In the spring of 1625, James was seized with an ague, which baffled the power of medicine ; and on the 27th of March, he expired, being then in the 59th year of his age. His remains were interred, with great magnificence, at Westminster. The funeral oration, or sermon, was delivered by William, Bishop of Lincoln and keeper of the seals, and was afterwards published under the title of" Great Britain's Solomon." A grosser piece of flattery^ never perhaps fell from the pulpit ; yet it is amusing for its ingenuity, and is important, as shewing the light in which the friends of the departed monarch were %villing he should appear. The text from which it was preached was 1 Kings, xi. 41 . 42. 43. And the rest of the words of Solomon, and all that he did, and his icisdom, are they not written in the book of the acts of Solomon, &c. " For the bulke or the mould," said the worthy bishop, " I dare presume to- say, you never read in your lives of two kings more fully paralleled amongst themselves, and better dis- tinguished from all other kings, besides themselves. King Solomon is said to be unigenitus coram matre sua, the only sonne of his mother, — Prov. 4. 3. So was King James. Solomon was of a complexion white and ruddy, — Canticles, v. 10. So was King James. Solomon was an infant king, puer parvulus, a little child, — 1 Chron. xxii. 5. So was King James^ POETS. — JAMES THE SIXTH. 49 a king at the age of thirteen months. Solomon be- gan his reign in the life of his predecessor, — 1 Kings, 1. 32. So, by the force and compulsion of that state, did our late sovereigne King James. Solomon was twice crowned and anoynted a king, — 1 Chron. xxix. 22. So was King James. Solomon's minority was rough, through the quarrels of the former sove- reigne. So was that of King James. Solomon was learned above all the princes of the east, — 1 Kings, iv. 30. So was King James above all the princes in the universal world. Solomon was a writer in prose and verse, — 1 vKings, iv. 32. So, in a very pure and exquisite manner, was our sweet sovereigne King James. Solomon was the greatest patron we ever read of to church and churchmen, and yet no greater (let the house of Aaron now confess) than King James. Solomon was honoured with ambassadors from all the kings of the earth,' — 1 Kings, iv. last verse ; and so you know was King James. Solomon was a main improver of his home commodities, as you may see in his trading with Hiram, — 1 Kings, V. 9. ; and, God knows, it was the daily study of King James. Solomon was a great maintainer of shipping and navigation, — 1 Kings, x. 14 ; a most proper attribute to King James. Solomon beautified very much his capital city with buildings and water- works, — 1 Kings, ix. 15. So did King James. Every man lived in peace under his vine and his fig-tree in the days of Solomon, — 1 Kings, iv. 35. And so they did in the blessed days of King James. And yet towards his end. King Solomon had secret ene- mies, Kazan, Hadad, and Jeroboam ; and prepared for a war upon his going to his grave ; so had and so PART 3.] F 50 LIVES OF EMINENT SCOTSMEN. did King James. Lastly, before any hostile act that we read of in the history, King Solomon died in peace, when he had lived about sixty years ; and so you know did King James."* Not satisfied with the praise conveyed by this pa- rallel, which was, in many respects, curious enough, the right reverend preacher proceeded to insist, more at large, on the matchless perfections of his departed majesty. " Every action," he said, " of his sacred majesty was a virtue and a miracle, to exempt him from any parallel amongst the modern kings and princes." " He was," in short, " unto his people to the hour of his death another cherubim, with a fla- ming sword to keep out enemies from this paradise of ours." Such was the glowing eulogiura which a prelate, who knew James well, thought it not unbecoming in him, as a minister of truth, to pronounce over his re- mains ; but, as Harris quaintly remarks, " for court bishops, by some fate or other, from the time of Con- stantine, down at least, to the death of James, and a little after, they have had the character of flatterers, and are therefore always to have great abatements made in their accounts of those who have been their benefactors." The believers in this pious fable could never have been many ; and, in modem times, it has * Scandal might have supplied the bishop with art additional coincidence, as striking as any he has mentioned. When Henry IV. of France was told, that James delighted to be compared to another Solomon. " What !" replied he, " and is he really the son of David ?" (Rizzio.) a. s. POETS. — JAMES THE SIXTH. 51 only to boast of the respect of Mr. Hume, who could believe in this when he could believe in nothing else. WhatBolingbroke says of James appears exti-emely just. " He had no virtues to set off, but he had fail- ings and vices to conceal. He could not conceal the latter, and, void of the former, he could not compen- sate for them. His failings and his vices therefore stand in full view ; he passed for a weak prince and an ill man, and fell into all the contempt wherein his memory remains to this day." The mode by which Hume has contrived to arrive at so different ^a conclusion does credit to his inge- nuity; but there is no other character, which, put through the same process, would not come out quite as " unspotted and unblemished." He allows, that James's failings and his vices stand in full view, but assumes, out of a peculiar tenderness, that they were all the natural offspring of so manj^ excellent quali- ties. James was pusillanimous — it arose from a love of peace ; he was cunning — it was the failing of wisdom ; he was profuse — it was the excess of gene- rosity ; he was pliable and, childish — it was the over- flowing of good nature ; he was pedantic — it was the foible of a man overlearned : whereas, the naked truth, separated from all assumption, is, that he had benefit- ed little by all he had learned ; was no more good- natured than the froward child who is allowed its own way in every thing ; wholly without generosity ; wholly without wisdom ; and lamentably destitute of the stuff which warlike men are made of. The whole course of his life was in accordance with these deficiencies of the head and heart. It was made up of threats and compliances, of fondnesses F 2 52 LIVES OF EMINENT SCOTSMEN, and treacheries, of sacrifices and aggressions. He ad- mitted of no limits to his will, but m ant of power ; no hold upon his affections, but unabated adulation. He was submissive only when he could not help it, or what is the same thing, when he had not the courage to be otherwise ; faithful only as long as it suited his interest or his pleasure. When he deprecated vio- lence, it was only because he was afraid to resort to it ; for when he could play the tyrant with impunity, none could delight in the part more. With princes at the head of armies, he would use words only ; but when he met with a poor heretic, whom all his words could not persuade, he threw him into the fire. Ma- lignity in power could do no worse. As an author, James is distinguished beyond most kings ; but had he been only an author, his name would probably have long ere now sunk into oblivion. Beside the works which have been before incidentally mentioned, — his Djemonology, — his Apology for the Oath of Allegiance, — his Premonition to all most Mighty Monarchs, and his Remonstrance for the Rights of Kings, — he wrote " the Essayes of A Prentise on the Divine Art of Poesie." " Poetical Exercises at Vacant Hours, containing the Furies and the Lepanto ;" " the Trew Law of Free Monarchy ;" some paraphrases on different passages of scripture ; the " BA2IAIK0N AnPON ;" a Declaration concerning Vorstius; a " Counterblast to Tobacco;" and part of a " Translation of the Psalms of King David." The " BA2IAIK0N AilPON," the most important of these works, was addressed to his " dearest son and natural successor. Prince Henry," and was divided into three parts ; " The first teacheth your duty to- POETS.— JAMES THE SIXTH. 63 wards God as a Christian ; the next, your duty in your office as a king ; and the third informeth you, how to behave yourself in indifferent things." " Not- withstanding," says a high authority, " the great alterations and refinements in national taste since that time, we must allow this to be no contemptible performance, and not to be inferior to the works of most contemporary writers, either in purity of style, or justness of composition."* Viewed merely as a literar}' exercise, it may be entitled to this commen- dation ; but, if we regard it as a serious compendium of the duties of ^sovereigns, it has faults for which no elegance of composition can atone. It abounds in despotic sentiments, in partial recollections of history, and in most pernicious advice. The " Trew Law of Free Monarchy," which was published about the same time as the BA2IAIK0N AX2P0N, seems to have been intended as a companion to it. " The bent of it," says Calderwood, " was directed against the course of God's work, in the re- formation of our kirk, and elsewhere, as rebellious to kings." It affirms the strange doctrine, that " the king is above the law, and that he is not bound thereto but of his good will, and for good example giving to his subjects." This was what James was pleased to consider as " Free Monarchy" ! Need we be surprised, that from such doctrines there " gushed forth," to use the words of Lord Orrery, " a torrent of misery, which not only bore down his son, but overwhelmed the three kingdoms ?" * Dr. Robertson. F 3 54 LIVES OF EMINENT SCOTSMEN. The " Counterblast to Tobacco" may take its place along with the Treatise on Witches. The poetical portion of James's works, if it has no great merit, is, at least, the freest from censure. The " Essayes of a Prentice," published when James was in his 18th year, include twelve sonnets to the gods. — " The Uranie or Heavenly Muse trans- lated ;" " The Metaphorical Invention of a Tragedy callit Phoenix ;" " A Paraphrastical Translation out of the Poete Lucane ;" " A Treatise of the Art of Scottis Poesie ;" " The 103rd Psalm of David trans- lated out of Tremellius ;" and " A Poeme of Tyme." The Phoenix is supposed, by Sibbald, to relate to Queen Mary. " Under the semblance of that fabu- lous bird," he observes, " if I mistake not, the au- thor attempts to exhibit the matchless beauty and sufferings of his unfortunate mother, whom he repre- sents as dead ; but performs his task with so much caution, and with such a timid and trembling hand, that one can scarcely recognize the resemblance." Mr. Sibbald certainly is mistaken. James never saw his mother, to remember her person, and can scarcely therefore be supposed to have spoken of her even al- legorically, as one whose death maks lyfe to greif in me, She whom I raw my eyes did ever see. Phoenix, st. 31. And, besides, the Phoenix was published, in 1584, two years before Clary's tragical end. The " Poetical Exercises" consisted of " the Fu- ries," a translation from Du Bartas; and of the POETS.— JAMES THE SIXTH. 55 " Lepanto," an original poem, descriptive of the bat- tle of Lepanto. The preface to this publication de- serves quotation for its modesty ; it would have been well for James and his posterity, had he remained always in as humble an opinion of his own fallibility. •' Receive here, beloved reader, a short poetique discours which I have selected and translated from amongst the rest of the works of Du Bartas, as a viva min-or of this last and most decreeped age. Heere shalt thou see clearlie, as in a glass, the miseries of this wavering world," &c. &c. " And in case thou find, as wel in tl?is work as in my Lepanto following, many incorect errors both of the dyteraent and or- thography, I must pray thee to accept this reasonable excuse, which is this. — Thou considers, I doubt not, that upon the one part I composed these things in my verie young and tender yeares, wherein Nature, except she were a monster, can admit of no perfection. And now, on the other part, being of riper yeares, my burden is so great and continuall without any inter- mission, that quhen ingyne and age could, ray affairs and fasherie will not permit me to remark the wrong orthography committed by the copies of my unlegible and ragged hand, far les to amend my pro- per errours. Yea, scarslie but at stolen moments, have I the lesure to blenk upon any paper, a»d yet not that with free and unvexed spirit. Albeit rough and unpolished as they are, I offer them unto thee, which being well accepted, will move me to haste the presenting unto thee of my Apocalyps, and also such nomber of the psalms as I have perfitted, and incou- rage me to the ending out of the rest. And thus, beloved reader, recommending these labours to thy 56 LIVES OF EMINENT SCOTSMEN. friendlie acceptation, I bid thee hartelie farewell." Du Bartas returned the compliment -which James had paid him, by translating, in return, the Battle of Lepanto into French heroic verse. This translation was published at Edinburgh in 1591 ; and among the commendatory copies of verses which accompanied it, was the following sonnet from James himself, which may be taken as a favorable specimen of his poetic talent. Sonnet. The azure vaulte, the crystall circles bright, The gleaming fyrie torches powdered there. The changing round, the shining beamie light. The sad and bearded fyres, the monsters faire. The prodiges appearing in the aire. The rearding thunders and the blustering winds, The foules in hue and shape, and nature raire, The prettie notes that winged musicians finds In earth, the saAnrie flouris, the metalled mines, The wholsura herbes, the hautie pleasant trees. The silver streams, the beasts of sundrie kinds. The bounded waves and fishes of the seas : All these for teaching man the Lord did frame. To do his will, whose glory shines in thame. The personal habits of James are thus very hap- pily described by Mr. Irving : — " King James was of a middle stature, but possessed of none of those attractions which arise from external elegance ; his shape was without symmetry ; his deportment destitute of ease and dignity. As his legs were hardly able to support the weight of his body, he proceeded in POETS.— JAMES THE SIXTH. 57 his walk liy a kind of circular motion. His eyes, which were remarkably large, he was accustomed to fix on strangers with a broad uninterrupted stare, which frequently compelled the more bash- ful to a precipitate retreat from his presence. His , skin is said to have been as soft as sarsnet. He ' was of a ruddy complexion ; his hair of a light brown : colour, but towards the close of his life interspersed ' with white. His beard was thinly scattered on his ; chin. His tongue exceeded the due proportion ; a circumstance which caused him to manage his cup in a manner sufficieatly disgusting. He was somewhat inclined to corpulency ; but more in appearance than ' reality ; for his extreme timidity induced him con- ; stantly to wear a quilted doublet, of stilletto proof. I The fashion of his clothes he could not be persuaded j to vary ; and it was not without some reluctance that ; he ever laid aside any of his old suits. So little sub- ; ject to change was his mode of life, that one of his courtiers was wont to declare, that if he himself were ' to awake after a sleep of seven years' continuance, he would undertake to enumerate the whole of his , majesty's occupations, and every dish which had , been placed on his table during that interval. His ' natural temperament is said to have disposed him to ' moderation in eating and drinking ; but during the ! last years of his life, his compUance with Bucking- , ham's frolicsome humour frequently immersed him in riotous excess, and at an earlier period he is known ; to have been engaged in scenes of low dissipation." j *' James became immoderately addicted to drinking, ; and his beverage was generally the strongest which ^ could be procured. This course of life rendered him, 58 LIVES OF EMINENT SCOTSMEN. at last, torpid and unwieldy ; and although he still pursued the amusement of hunting, of which he was excessively fond, yet when he was trussed on horse- back, he maintained his posture like a lump of inani- mate matter. When his hat was placed on his head, he suffered it to remain in whatever position it hap- pened to occupj'." James, by his queen, Anne of Denmark, had issue, Henry, who died in his 20th year, a prince celebrated for his virtues, and the darling of the people whilst living ; Charles, who succeeded to the throne ; and Elizabeth, who was married to the unfortunate Fre- derick, Prince Palatine of the Rhine. D. S. \ POETS.— SIR RICHARD MAITLAND. 69 SIR RICHARD MAITLAND. The family of Maitland, to whom we are indebted 'fertile most valuable collection existing of the an- cient poetry of Scotland, and which has itself given a poet of some e'jiinence to the country, has long been one of the most distinguished in the south east of Scotland. The name, as anciently written, I was Mautalant- The first of the race who gained a 1 place in story was a Sir Richard Maitland, baron or jlaird of Thirleslane in Haddingtonshire, who lived about the middle of the thirteenth century, and was famous for his valour. Of auld Sir Richard of that name We have heard sing and say ; Of his triumphant nobill fame. And of his auld baird gray. And of his nobill sonnis three, Quhilk that tyme had no maik ;* Quhilk made Scotland renounit be, And all England to quaik. Anon. Lines," In Prayse of Lelhington." William Maitland of Lethington, a descendant of * Equal. 60 LIVES OF EMINENT SCOTSxMEN. this Sir Richard, vras among the number of the Scot- tish chiefs Avho fell in the fatal field of Flodden, in 1513. He was married to Martha, daughter of George Lord Seaton, by whom he left a son and daughter,' — Sir Richard Maitland, who became as distinguished in the arts of peace, as the old Sir Rich- ard was in those of war ; and Janet, who was after- wards married to Hugh Lord Sommerville. In the person of Sir Richard's grandson, the family was subsequently raised to the peerage by the title of Lauderdale, which it still deservedly enjoys. Sir Richard Maitland was born in 1496 ; was edu- cated at St. Andrews ; and studied law in France. On his return to Scotland, he became a favorite with James the Fifth, and served the queen of that prince, Mary of Guise, in some office of trust, as appears from a poem which he afterwards addressed to the unfortunate Mary, on her arrival in Scotland, 1561. ^Madame, I was true servand to thy mother. And in her favour stud ay, thankfuUie, &c. From the same poem, we learn, that Sir Richard, now in his sixty-fifth year, had become afflicted with that acutest of the deprivations of age, loss of sight. And thoch that I to serve be nocht sa abil As I was wont, becaus I may not see ; Yet in my hairt I sail be ferme and stabil To thy Hieness with all fidelitie. Ay, pray and God for thy prosper itie ; And that I heir thy people, with hie voice And joyful hau-tis,cry continuallie Vila Marie tre nobil reyne d'Ecoss ! POETS. — SIR RICHARD MAITLAND. 61 Mackenzie says, that as early as 1553, Sir Richard had been appointed an extraordinary Lord of Session ; but of this there seems some doubt. It is certain, however, that on the 12th November, 1561, he was appointed one of the ordinary Lords of Session, or as they are otherwise termed, Senators of the College of Justice. Sir Richard assumed, on this elevation, the title of Lord Lethington. On the 20th Decem- ber, 1562, he was farther promoted to be a Lord of Council and Lord Privy Seal. The latter of these situations he was, in 1567, permitted to resign in fa- vour of John, h^ second son ; but the duties of his other offices he continued to discharge through all the troublesome minority of James the Sixth, till 1584, when, borne down with weight of years, he re- tired wholly from public life. He survived this event only about two years, dying on the 20th March, 1586, at the advanced age of ninety. Sir Richard was married to Mary, daughter of Thomas Cranston of Corsly, who appears, by the fol- lowing couplet, written by their second son, John I Lord Thirlstane, to have expired on the same day with her husband. Unus hymen, mens una : duos mors una diesque Junxit : ut una caro, sic cinis unus erit. By this marriage, he left three sons, William, ce- lebrated in history as Secretary Lethington ; John, ; afterwards Lord Thirlestane and chancellor ; and Tho- mas, chiefly known as the prolocutor with Buchanan, in his Treatise De Jure Regni ; as also four daughters, I all of whom were respectably married, and left a nu- merous offspring. TART 3.] G 62 LIVES OF EMINENT SCOTSMEN. Sir Richard possessed among his contemporaries a high character for talents, learning, and moral worth. He is never mentioned by writers but with respect, except by Knox, who rashi}^ charges him with having taken a bribe to prevail on his kinsman, Lord Seaton, in whose castle Cardinal Beaton was confined, to li- berate that crafty prelate after the death of James the Fifth. Sir Ralph Sadler, who was much better acquainted than Knox with the secret intrigues of the Scottish court, assures us, that Arran the regent, gave Lord Seaton orders to set the cardinal at liberty, though, to save appearances with England, he affected to throw the blame on Seaton and his relatives. It is fortunate for the character of Sir Richard, that it is thus cleared of the only stain attempted to be cast upon it ; for the release of Beaton was attended with consequences which might well make it a re- proach to any man's memory. No sooner was the cardinal at liberty, than he had the address entirely to defeat a treaty which had just been concluded by the commissioners of England and Scotland, for a marriage betwixt Queen Mary, and Edward Prince of Wales ; an auspicious project, which had the wishes of all the wise and good of both countries, and which, had it been accomplished, might possibly have averted a torrent of calamities from both. The writings of Sir Richard, from which we can now perhaps best estimate his real worth, are such as do him unexceptionable honour. They shew know ledge of the world, a strong sense of virtue, a feeling and generous disposition. In one of his pieces, en- titled " On the Malyce of Poetis," he expresses warmly his detestation of those who make the muses POETS.— SIR RICHARD MAITLAND. 63 subservient to purposes of "detractioun and slander ;" and adds those precepts by which he appears to have been himself uniformly guided in his poetic lucubra- tions. Put not in writ, what God or man may grieve ; All vertew love ; and all vices reprieve. Or mak sum rayrrie toy, to gude purpose. That may the herar and redar bay th rejoyse : Or sum frutful and gude morality Or plesand things, may stand with charrite. Despyteful poets suld not tholit be In common w'eils, or godlie cumpanie. That sort ar redie ay to sow sedition, And put gude men into suspitioun. In the piece from which we have just quoted, there is a couplet remarkable for its similarity in thought to Shakespeare's celebrated passage : *' He who steals my purse," &c. " To steal ane manis fame is gritter sin Nor ony gear that is the warld within. " Mr. Pinkerton remarks, that though the thought is the same, " there was no possibility of Shakespeare ; seeing these poems ;" to which it may, with equal ! truth, be added, that there is nothing in the sentiment I so peculiar, that it might not have occurred to all the ; world beside. The merit of the passage in Shakes- \ peare turns wholly on the vigour and felicity of the 1 expression. j Mr. Pinkerton, to whom Scottish literature is in- I debted for the revival of Sir Richard Maitland's poe- c 2 64 LIVES OF EMINENT SCOTSMEN, tical remains from a long oblivion, has not deemed more than twenty-seven, out of a much greater num- ber of short pieces extant, deser\ung of republica- tion ; and of these, there are a few which seem to have strong claims to the benefit of his apology, that *' he made it a point rather to give three or four pie- ces that might perhaps have been omitted, than to err on the other side." Of the whole of them, in- deed, considered critically as claiming poetical rank, it must be confessed, that there is little, if any poetry in them. They are sensible moral lessons conveyed in very scholar-like rhymes } but more can- not be said in their praise. Almost the only instance in which he has ventured on a poetic image, (and how can there be poetry without imagery ?) occurs in his poem " On the Folye of Ane Auld Man's Maryand Ane Young Woman," where the neces- sity of talking covertly on a subject, which " ane auld man" of eighty had better have let alone, has driven him to make one of the lowest uses of ima- gery, to which it can be made subservient. It would be contrary to nature, perhaps, to look for much poetic fancy in a writer who paid his court to the Muses at so late a period of life as Sir Richard Maitland. Pinkerton says, that he does not seem to have written a line of poetry till he had reached his sixtieth year ; and though a La Fare commenced poet at the same age, and a Haley not many years earlier ; neither of them has been so successful as to make it doubtful whether the sunshine of life is really the season of fruits and flowers. Two of the best of Sir Richard's pieces are a " Sa- tire on the Age," and a Supplication " Agains Op- POETS. — SIR RICHARD MAITLAND. 65 pressioun of the Comoiins." They present strong pictures of the miseries to which a distracted country was subject at the period when they were written, and breathe the wishes of a true patriot for their re- dress. The importance of a " bold peasantry" to a state has been more eloquently described by Gold- smith, but not with greater truth, than in the follow- ing lines : Riche comouns ar richt profitable Quhan thai, to serve their lord, ar able Thair native^ country to defend Fra tharae that hurt it wald pretend For WE will be ouir few a nuiner Gif comouns to the weir not wend Nobils may not beir all the cummir. Help the comouns, bayth lord and laird ! And God thairfore sail you rewaird. And gif ye will not thame supplie, God will you plaig thairfore justlie And your succession, eftir you Gif thai sail have na mair petie On the comouns nor ye have now. " The Blind Baron's Comfort," as Dr. Percy has appropriately named one piece in the collection, is also interesting from the circumstances out of which it arose. It is said, in a note subjoined by Sir Ri- chard, to have been penned " quhain his land is of the baronie of Blythe, in Lawderdaile, was heriet by Rolleyt Foster, Inglisman, Capitane of Wark Castle, with his cumpanye to the number of thre hunder men : quha spulyeit fra the said Schir Richard, and G 3 66 LIVES OF EMINENT SCOTSMEN, fra his eldest sone ; thair senandis and tennentis ; furthe of the said baronie, five thousand scheipe, youngar and eider; t«a hundred nowt (cattle) ; threttie hors and meirs ; and insicht (furniture) furth of his hous of Blythe worth ane hundred pound ; and the haill tennentis insicht of tlie haill baronie was fursabil. This spulje was committed the xvi day of Maij, the year mdlxx ; and the said Sir Richard was threscore and xiiii yeiris of age, and growin blind ; in tyuie of peace quhan nane of that cuntrie lippint (laid their account) for sic thing." The " comfort" which " the Blind Baron finds for this cruel spoliation, consists in a pleasant ringing of changes on the name of the estate which was laid waste. Blind man be blythe, altho' that thow be wranglt, Thoch Blythe be herreit, tak no melancholic Thou sail be blythe, quhan that they sail be hangit, That Blythe has spulyeit sa maliciousle. Be blythe and glaid, 6cc. This was but wordy comfort, it must be confessed, for losses of such magnitude as those which the baron enumerates ; and Sir Richard seems to have felt so, for in a subsequent piece, entitled " Solace in Age," he says : Thoch I be sweir to ryd or gang ; Thair is sumthing, I've wan tit lang. Fane have I wald Thame punysit that did me wrang ; Thoch I be aid. It is as a collector of ancient Scottish poetry,' POETS SIR RICHARD MAITLAND. 67 however, rather than as a poet, that Sir Richard Maitland's name will live. The Maitland collections now deposited in the Pepysian Library, at Magdalen College, Cambridge, consist of two volumes ; a folio, begun by Sir Richard, about 1555, and continued till 1586, the year of his death ; and a quarto in the hand-writing of Miss Mary Maitland, his third daugh- ter, which appears to have been almost wholly written during the last year of her father's life, and under bis direction. Besides correct copies of all Sir Richard's own poems, these volumes contain the most authentic transcripts existing of the productions of many pre- ceding and contemporary poets, of whom, but for this collection, nothing but their names might have survived. These manuscripts remained in the Mait- land family, till the Duke of Lauderdale (the only duke of the name) presented them, with other MSS., to Samuel Pepys, Esq. Secretary of the Admiralty to Charles II. and James II. and one of the earliest collectors of rare books in England. Mr. Pepys, dying 26th May, 1703, in his 71st year, ordered, by his will, the Pepysian Library, at Magdalen College, Cambridge, to be founded, in order to preserve his very valuable collection entire. Here the Maitland Collections slumbered almost unnoticed for nearly a century, till the attention of Mr. Pinkerton was di- rected to them by Dr. Percy ; when Mr. P. made a selection from them, which he published, in 1786, in two small 8vo. volumes. The pieces in the folio manuscript amount to one hundred and seventy-six, of which only forty-seven had been printed previous to Mr. Pinkerton's publi- cation. Of the remaining one hundred aad twenty- 68 LIVES OF EMINENT SCOTSMEN, nine, five are duplicates, and fifty-two have been deemed by Mr. Pinkerton undeserving of revival. The quarto manuscript comprehends ninety-six pieces, but forty-tn of them are duplicates of poems in the folio, and only twenty-eight have been selected as worth publishing. Among the pieces in Mr. Pinkerton's selection are several epitaphs on Sir Richard jMaitland ; one by Thomas Hudson ; another by Robert Hudson ; and two by anonymous hands. One of the last, alluding to the circumstance of Sir Richard and his wife expiring on the same day, closes with a happy couplet. But yit quhat Death has prest to do, their love so to devyde, Love hes againe, surmounting Death, defy'd. But the lines, which, upon the whole, do most justice to the character of the worthy knight, are those of T. Hudson ; they are encomiastic, without being either fulsome or ridiculous. The sliding tyme so slilie slips away. It reaves from us remembrance of our state. And, quhil we do the oair of tyme delay, We tyne* the tide, and so lament too late. Then to eschew such dangerous debait Propone for patron, manlie Maitland knycht ; Leame be his lyf to live in sembil raite,t * Lose. t In like manner. POETS. — SIR RICHARD MAITLAND. ( With love to God, religion, law, and rycht ; For as he was of vertu lucent lycht, Of ancient bluid, of nobil sprit and name, Belov'd of God, and everie gracious wycht, So died HE auld, deserving worthy fame ; A rare example set for us to see Quhat we have been, now ar, and aucht to be. A. M. 70 LIVES OF EMINENT SCOTSMEN. ARTHUR JOHNSTON. n Arthur Johnston, one of the most eminent of modern Latin poets, was a descendant of the family of the Johnstons, of Caskieben, in the united parishes of Keith-hall and Kinkell, Aberdeenshire. He was the son of John Johnston, by Christian Forbes, daugh- ter of William, seventh Lord Forbes, and was born in the year 1587, at the house of Caskieben, of which the poet has recorded this curious circumstance, — that, though six miles distant from the lofty mountain of Banochie, it is covered by the shadow of that moun- tain, at the time of the equinox, though on no other occasion. Arthur, as he himself records, received the early part of his education at the school of Kintore. Hie ego sum, memini musarum factus alumnus : Et tiro didici verba Latina loqui. From school he was sent to the Marischal College, Aberdeen ; but after a short time, went abroad, and pursued his studies at the University of Padua, where in 1610 he took the degree of M.D. He after- wards travelled over the greater part of Europe, and at last settled in France. He remained in that coun- try for about twenty years, during which he w as twice married, and had a family of thirteen children. Li 1632, he returned to his native country, and such was POETS.— ARTHUR JOHNSTON. 71 the reputation which he brought along with him, that he was ahnost immediately appointed physician to the king. While in France, Dr. Johnston had acquired consi- derable eminence as a Latin poet ; and it was not long before he became as celebrated in this respect in his own country. In 1632, he published at Aberdeen, his " Parerga" and " Epigrammata," both of which met with a most favorable reception among the learn- ed, who thought that they saw in many parts of them, the style and spirit of the best of the Roman classics revived. ^ In the Parerga, Johnston took an opportunity to lash \vith merited severity, an atjempt which had then recently been made by Dr. Eglesham, to depreciate the merit of Buchanan's Translation of the Psalms. Dr. Eglesham not content with writing a stupid criti- cism, to shew that Buchanan had entirely failed in catching the spirit of the original, was vain enough to submit a version of the hundred and fourth psalm from his own pen, as a specimen of what might be done by a genius qualified for the task. He presented a iit subject for ridicule, and Johnston, who was a warm admirer of Buchanan, did not spare him. It is curious enough, however, that while Johnston was thus lashing Eglesham, for attempting to rival Buchanan, he caught himself a double portion of the very weakness, if so it may be called, which he con- demned in another. He resolved to try whether he ;could not excel both the writer he defended, and the writer he condemned. In the following year, he printed at London, a specimen of a new translation of the Psalms of David, which he dedicated to 72 LIVES OF EMINENT SCOTSMNE. ' Bishop Laud ; and encouraged by that prelate's ap- probation, he completed a translation of the whole, which was printed at London in 1637, and at Aber- deen in the same year. The merit of this translation, as compared with that of Buchanan, became immediately the subject of a celebrated controversy, in which, however, Johnston did not live to take himself any share ; for, going to Oxford, in 1691, to ^■is^t one of his daughters, who was married to a divine of that place, he was seized with an illness, of which he died in a few days, in the fifty- fourth year of his age. The controversy just alluded too, was commenced by Lauder, famous or rather infamous for his conspi- racy to rob Milton of his laurels. Never in his ele- ment, except when stabbing a reputation, he eagerly seized the opportunity of attempting to raise a name for Johnston, on the ruin of Buchanan's ; and found a zealous abetter, in a well intentioned, but simple English gentleman, of the name of Benson, an audi- tor of the imprests, who has got a niche in the Dun- ciad for his pains. " On Poets tombs, see Benson's titles writ," »»♦♦»•* " On two unequal crutches propt he came, Milton's on this, on that one Johnston's name. No less than three editions of Johnston's Psalms wei printed at Benson's expense ; one of them in quarto, on the plan of the Delphin classics, and with a fine head of Johnston, by Vertue, was designed for the use of the Prince of Wales. The auditor added a prefatory dis- i POETS. — ARTHUR JOHNSTON. 73 course from himself, in which he set no bounds to his commendation of Johnston, and spoke with surprise of the esteem in which the learned had hitherto been accustomed to hold the version of Buchanan. The defence of Buchanan against this joint attack of ro- guery and simplicity, was undertaken by Mr. Love and Mr. Thomas Ruddiman, who not only covered the assailants with confusion, but, by their able expositions of the beauties of Buchanan, raised his version of the Psalms into even higher repute than it before possessed. Poor Benson lived to have a full sense of the folly into which he had bttn betrayed ; and, in chagrin at the awkward attempt which he had made to gain a name in letters, threw up the pursuit entirely, and would not look at a book for several years before he died.* * Dr. Warton has endeavoured to rescue Benson from the contempt, with which he is too commonly spoken of. " He translated," he says, " faithfully, if not very poetically, the second book of the Georgics, with use- ful notes; he printed elegant editions of Johnston's Psalms ; he wrote a discourse on versification ; he rescued his country from the disgrace of having no mo- nument erected to the memory of Milton, in West- minster Abbey ; he encouraged and urged Pitt to tran- slate the ^neid, and he gave Dobson £1000 for his Latin translation of Paradise Lost." Notes on the Dunciad. — Another instance of his liberality is record- ed, which merits notice. In 1735, a book was pub- lished, entitled, "The Cure of Deism." The author, Mr. Elisha Smith, was at that time confined in the , Fleet prison, for a debt of ^£200. Benson, pleased P^RT 3.] H 74 LIVES OF EMINENT SCOTSxMEN. Ruddiman, while he maintained the superiority of Buchanan's translation, was not sparing of due praise to that of Johnston. He was pleased to say, that for elegance and purity of diction, sweetness and smoothness of verse, in short all the ingredients that are required to the composition of a great and mas- terly poet, Johnston was inferior to none, and supe- rior to most of the age in which he lived. " J^ay," adds he, " I will allow farther, that in my judgement he deserves the preference to the far greater part of those that have lived since or before him." A more recent critic. Lord Woodhouselee, in his Life of Kairaes, is of opinion, that although John- ston's version " as a whole is certainly inferior, 3'et there are a few of his psalms, which in comparison will perhaps be found to excel the corresponding paraphrase of his rival." He instances particularly the 2-lth, 30th, 42nd, 74th, 81st, 82nd, 102nd, and, above all, the 137th. The same ingenious critic, in his Essay on the Principles of Translation, commends Johnston for the scrupulous care with which he has uniformly avoided the application to the Almighty, of epithets suited only to the Pagan mythology, an error into which Buchanan has more than once fallen ; as, for example, when he transfers the first line of the speech of Venus to Jupiter, in the 10th ^neid, to the address to the Deity, which begins the 4th Psalm. O pater, O hominum divumque aiterna potestas ! with the work, inquired after the author, and being informed of his unfortunate state, he sent him a hand- some letter, enclosing the means for discharging the w hole debt, fees, &c. -a. s. POETS. — ARTHUR JOHNSTON. 75 Dr. Beattie, who does not think much of any of the attempts which have been made to transfer the Psahns into a modern poetic dress, condemns Bu- chanan for a want of emphatic conciseness and un- adorned simpHcity. " Johnston," he adds, " is not so verbose, and has, of course, more vigour : but his choice of a couplet which keeps the reader alwa3's in mind of the puerile epistles of Ovid, was singularly injudicious." Buchanan, whose genius was as remarkable for its versatility as its compass, has employed no fewer than twenty-nine varieties of metre in his version ; but Johnston has confined himself entirely to the elegiac stanza, except in one psalm, the 119th, in which each verse presents a new measure. The merit of Johnston's version dwindles, after all, into very narrow limits. What Buchanan had done well before, Johnston has not, on the whole, done so well ; and out of a mass of therefore abortive labour, there are only about half a dozen psalms which are worth preserving, as better than those of his rival. Had Johnston been less envious of the fame of Bu- chanan, he would have benefited his own. The same genius and toil which he wasted on this fruitless com- petition, might, if employed orx some diflferent and original subject, have conducted him to an undisputed immortality. Beside the works which have been incidentally mentioned, Johnston wrote a translation of the Song of Solomon into Latin Elegiac Verse ; and " Musae Aulicse," or commendator}' verses on a number of his most distinguished contemporaries. He also 76 LIVES OF EMINENT SCOTSMEN. edited the " Deliciae Poetarum Scoticorum ;" a work to which he was a large and valuable contributor, and of which Dr. Johnson has been pleased to say, that " it would do honour to any country." H.B. POETS. — HAMILTON OF B.4NG0UR, 77 HAMILTON OF BANGOUR. " There have I seen a Hamilton submitting his verses to the correction and criticism of a fair circle, who did not trust alone to beauty the most superior, for the preservation of their empire over mankind." Col. Caustic. Lounger, No. 14. William Hamilton, of Bangour, the poet of the polite world in Scotland, at the beginning of the eighteenth century, was born in 1704. He was de- scended from an ancient family, of independent cir- cumstances, in Ayrshire : and, born to elegant society, wanted nothing which a liberal education could sup- ply to render him its ornament. Amidst the lighter dissipations of gay life, he cultivated a taste for lite- rature, and acquired an intimate acquaintance with tlie best writers, both of modem times and of anti- quity. The bent of his own mind was to poetry, and he made some early essay's in it, which, being shewn about among his friends, obtained a degree of appro- bation which incited him to persevere in his court to the Muses. When the rebellion of 1745 broke out, he took the side which most men of generous tempera- ment were apt to take in those days — he joined the cause of the Pretender, and celebrated his first sue- 78 LIVES OF EMINENT SCOTSMEN. cess at Preston-pans, in the well-known Jacobite ode of " Gladsrauir." After the battle of Culloden, which put an end to the contest, he fled into the mountains, and passed through many perils and hard- ships before he succeeded in effecting his escape into France. His exile, however, was short. He had left many friends and admirers among the fortunate party behind him, who took the earliest opportunity of pro- curing his pardon from government, on which he returned home, and resumed possession of his pater- nal estate. His health, however, which was naturally delicate, and probably not a little injured by his mi- litary adventures, requiring the benefit of a warmer climate, he not long after returned to the continent, and took up his abode at Lyons, where he continued to reside, till a lingering consumption carried him off in the fiftieth year of his age. A volume of poems, by Hamilton, was first pub- lished at Glasgow in 1748, and aftenvards reprinted ; but it was a pirated publication, made not only with- out the author's consent, but without his name ; and, as might be expected, abounded in errors. It re- mained to his friends, after his death, to publish from his original manuscripts the first genuine and com- plete collection of his works. It appeared at Edin- burgh in 1760, with a head by Strange, who had been a fellow adventurer with Hamilton in the Stuart cause. The poems of Hamilton failed for some time to attract any particular notice, and were becoming, indeed, almost forgotten ; when an able criticism in the Lounger, from the pen of the late Professor Ri- chardson, of Glasgow, awakened the public to a POETS.— HAMILTON OF BANGOUR. 79 juster sense than they seemed before to entertain of their merits. " The poems of Hamilton," says Mr. Richardson, " display regular design, just sentiments, fanciful in- vention, pleasing sensibility, elegant diction, and smooth versification." The justness of this encomium he illustrates by an analysis of Hamilton's principal poem, called Contemplation, or the Triumph of Love. He dwells particularly on the quality of fanciful in- vention, as being that of all others which distinguishes and is chiefly characteristic of poetical composition. He admits, that Hamilton is " not endowed with all the powers of invention, nor with those of every kind." — " His imagination is employed among beau- tiful and engaging, rather than among awful and mag- nificent images ; and even when he presents us with dignified objects, he is more grave than lofty, more solemn than sublime, as in the following passage :" Now see the spreading gates unfold, Display'd the sacred leaves of gold. Let me with holy awe repair To the solemn house of pray'r ; And as I go, O thou, my heart. Forget each low and earthly part. Religion, enter in my breast, A mild and venerable guest ! Put oif, in contemplation drown'd. Each thought impure in holy ground ; And cautious tread, with awful fear, The courts of heaven — for God is here. Now ray grateful voice 1 raise ; Ye angels, swell a mortal's praise, 80 LIVES OF EMINENT SCOTSMEN. To charm with your own harmony The ear of Him who sits on high ! " It is not asserted," adds Mr. Richardson, when exemplifying " tlie pleasing sensibiiit}'" which he ascribes to Hamilton, that he " displays those vehe- ment tumults and ccstacies of passion, that belong to the higher kinds of lyric and dramatic composition. He is not shaken with excessive rage, nor melted with overwhelming sorrow ; yet when he treats of grave or affecting subjects, he expresses a plaintive and engaging softness. He is never violent and ab- rupt, and is more tender than pathetic. Perhaps " the Braes of Yarrow," one of the finest ballads ever written, may put in a claim to superior distinc- tion. But even with this exception, I should think our poet more remarkable for engaging tenderness, than for deep and affecting pathos." — " In like man- ner, when he expresses the joyful sentiments, or de- scribes scenes and objects of festivity, which he does very often, he displays good humour and easy cheer- fulness, rather than tiie transports of mirth or tlie brilliancy of wit." Mr. Richardson exemplifies these characteristics by some of Hamilton's descriptions of female beauty. One of the passages which he quotes, presenting a picture of the gentler and livelier graces, is peculiarly happy, and conveys a strong impression of Hamilton's poetical powers. In everlasting blushes seen, Such Pringle shines of sprightly mien ; To her the power of love imparts. Rich gift ! the soft successful arts POETS. — HAMILTON OF BANGOUR. 8i That best the lover's fires provoke, The lively step, the mirthful joke. The speaking glance, the am'rous wile, The sportful laugh, the winning smile. Her soul, awak'ning every grace, Is all abroad upon her face ; In bloom of youth, still to survive, All charms are there, and all alive. Mr. Mackenzie, the ingenious editor of the Loun- ger, enforced the judgement pronounced by his criti- cal correspondent, by a note, in which he observes, " It will not methinks require the enthusiasm of a laudator temporis acti, like Colonel Caustic, to receive a peculiar satisfaction in tracing the virtues and the beauty of a former age, in the verses of one who ap- pears to have so warmly caught the spirit of the first, to have so warmly felt the power of the latter. Nor ma}' it be altogether without a moral use, to see, in the poetical record of a former period, the manners of our own country in times of less luxury, but not per- haps of less refinement, when fashion seems to have conferred superiorities fully as intrinsic as any she can boast at present ; to have added dignity of sen- timent to pride of birth, and to have invested supe- rior beauty with superior grace and higher accom- plishments." The fame of Hamilton has also found a warm vin- dicator in Lord Woodhouselee, who thus speaks of him in his Life of Kaimes : — " With the elegant and accomplished William Hamilton, of Bangour, whose amiable manners were long remembered with the tenderest recollection by all who knew him, Mr. 82 LIVES OF EMINENT SCOTSMEN. Home (Lord Kaimes) lived in the closest habits of friendship. The writer of these Memoirs has heard him dwell with delight on the scenes of their youth- ful days, and he has to regret, that many an anec- dote, to which he listened with pleasure, was not committed to a better record than a treacherous me- mory. Hamilton's mind is pictured in his verses. They are the easy and careless effusions of an elegant fancy, and a chastened taste ; and the sentiments they convey are the genuine feelings of a tender and susceptible heart, which perpetually owned the domi- nion of some favorite mistress ; but whose passion generally evaporated in song, and made no serious or permanent impression. His poems had an additional charm to his conleraporaries, from being commonly addressed to his familiar friends of either sex, by name. There are few minds insensible to the sooth- ing flattery of a poet's record." Notwithstanding this concurrence of high critical authorities, in favour of Hamilton's claims to poetical renotvn, the attention of tlie public appears to have been only called to, not fixed upon, his works. Al- though tliov have been since inserted in the new edi- tion (by Johnson and Chalmers) of the English Poets, there has been no demand for a separate edi- tion ; nor is Hamilton among those writers whom we often hear quoted either by the learned or the Are we then to conclude, that too high a station has been attempted to be assigned to him ? The public voice seems to pronounce in the atfirraative ; and it is not often that the public voice is in the wrong. In the present instance, however, there POETS.— HAMILTON OF BANGOUR. 83 : seems strong reason to question the perfect justness of its decision. Although Hamilton's claims may not reach to a place in the highest class of our poets ; j yet there are few of a secondary order who can, with , fairness, take rank above him. The period at which Hamilton wrote must always bi a material circumstance for consideration, in form- ; ing a proper estimate of his merits. He was one I of the first of his countrymen, who, after that long 1 night of darkness which elapsed between 1615 and I 1715, illumined only by the passing meteors, Stirling and Drumraond, returned to life and nature, in re- turning to the use of the common language, either in its Scotch or English garb. After the accession of [James to the English throne, it had, somehow or 1 other, ceased to be thought creditable, among our I men of learning, to write in any language but what i men of learning alone could understand. Either dis- I daining to cultivate that more polished dialect of the , old Anglo-Saxon, which had now become the lan- guage of the court, because it happened to be that of a I people still unhappily regarded with a rival feeling, j or distrustful of the success they might attain in it, I they threw themselves into the arms of the Latin t muses, with whom they passed a joyless solitude of I many ages. Men of genius no longer thought or i wrote but in trammels ; for, be the degree of faraili- 'arity with a foreign or dead language wliat it 'may, it can nevi r rival the ease with which one ! speaks the language of his nativity ; and what iwas worse, they no longer wrote for the niulti- ' tude, without whose inspiring approbation there can I be no such thing as prosperity in national literature. 84 LIVES OF EMINENT SCOTSMEN. Genius was thus not only repressed, but wasted ; not only obscured, but wedded to obscurity. An author who writes in a living tongue, though known, at first, only to a few, may hope in time to be known to all ; but the posterity, by whom alone the Latinists of those days could expect to be remembered, was the posterity of scholais, always a limited commu- nity, and not always a ver^'^ caring one about the ho- nours of departed genius. Many a worthy name may thus have been suffered to drop into oblivion, nor can we be at all sure, that it is by those whose reputation has chanced to survive, that we ought to judge of the literary talent which existed in Scotland during the long and gloomy, yet classic, period of which we have been speaking. At the dawn of the eighteenth century, the scho- lastic spell was, at length, broken ; and Ramsay, in the native Scottish dialect, and Hamilton in English, shewed how much fonder the Muses were to be wooed, even in homespun attire, than in the grave clothes of a Horace or an Ovid. It may, with safety, be asserted, that in the works of Hamilton alone there is more genuine poetry, than in the whole cen- tury of Latin poets who preceded him ; and though not so highly esteemed as he deserves to be, still he is read, while they have long teased to be known to the general reader, except by name. As a first adventurer in English composition, Ha- milton must be allowed to have obtained no ordinary success. In his language, he shews nearly all the purity of a native ; his diction is various and power- ful ; and his versification but rarely tainted with pro- vincial errors. He delights, indeed, in a class of POETS HAMILTON OF BANGOUR. 85 words, which, though not rejected by the best En- glish writers, have a certain insipidit}^ which only a refined English ear perhaps can perceive ; such as beauteous, bounteous, dubious, and even melancholeous. The same peculiarity may, I think, be remarked of most of the early Scottish writers in the English lan- guage ; in Thomson it is particularly observable. We sometimes meet also in Hamilton with false quan- tities ; but they seem oftener to proceed from making a Procrustian of a poetic licence, than from ignorance or inadvertence, as in the following verse. Where'er the beauteous heart-compeller moves. She scatters wide perdition all around : Blest with celestial form, and crown'd with loves. No single breast is refractory found. E/eo-i/ on the Youngest Grace. Lord Woodhouselee calls Hamilton's poems the " easy and careless effusions" of " an elegant fancy and a chastened taste." This is not quite compati- ble with " the regular design'' which Richardson discovers in them ; nor, indeed, with what Lord Woodhouselee himself elsewhere tells us, that " it appears from Hamilton's letters, that he communi- cated his poems to his friends for their critical re- marks, and was easily induced to alter or amend them by their advice." The poem of Contemplation, for instance, he sent to Mr. Home, (Lord Kaimes,) who suggested some alterations, which were thus ac- knowledged in a letter from Hamilton, dated July, 1739. " I have made the corrections on the moral part of Contemplation, and in a post vvill send it to VART 3.] 1 86 LIVES OF EMINENT SCOTSMEN. Will. Crawford, who has the rest, and will transmit it to you. I shall write to him fully on the subject." The Will. Crawford here mentioned was the author of the beautiful pastoral ballad of Tweedside, " which," says Lord Woodhouselee, " with the aid of its charming melody, will probably live as long as the language is understood." Hamilton had evidently too passionate a devotion to the Muses, to be careless in his attentions to them. His poems themselves bear all the marks of studious production ; they shew great ease, but it is the ease resulting from art. The writing of poetry, indeed, seems to have formed the chief business of Hamilton's life. We find this very pleasantly manifested in one of his letters to Mr. Home, dated September, 17-18. Mr. Home had sent him some remarks on Horace, of the same tenor, it would appear, with those which he afterwards pub- lished in his Elements of Criticism, and Hamilton thus alludes to them : " I am entirel}'^ of your opi- nion with respect to your observations on Horace. He certainly wanders from his text — but still they are the wanderings of Horace. Whj^ we are never contented with our lot, but still envy the condition of others, was a noble subject, and it were to be wished he had adorned it as well as he could from his own experience ; satisfied, as he seems to have been, with his own pursuits and the fame they had acquired him. Let rae put Horace's question to my- self. Why don't I acquiesce in the determination of heaven, to which I have myself so much contributed? Why don't I rest contented with that small, perhaps, indeed, but sincere, portion of happiness furnished 6(/ my poetry and a few kind friends? Why concern POETS. — HAMILTON OF BANGOUR. 87 myself to please Jeanie Stewart, or vex mjself about that happier man to whom the lottery of life may have assigned her? Qui Jit Mecenas, qui Jit. Whence comes it? Alas ! whence, indeed ? Too long by love, a wandering fire, misled. My better days in vain delusion fled. Day after day, year after year, withdrew. And beauty blest the minutes as they flew ; Those hours consum'd in joy, but lost to fame. With blushes I review, but dare not blame : A fault which easy pardon might receive. Did lovers judge, or could the wise forgive! But now to Wisdom's healing springs I fl}^ And drink oblivion of each charmful eye. To love revolted, quit each pleasing care, Whate'er was w itty, or whate'er was fair. Your's, &c. Almost the whole of Hamilton's poems are of an amatory cast ; but it would seem, that we must add him to the number of poets, not a few, to whom love, with all its pangs, has been only a fancy's dream. As Lord Woodhouselee truly remarks, his " heart per- petually owned the dominion of some favorite mis- tress ; but his passion generally evaporated in song, and made no serious or permanent impression." The " Jeanie Stewart," of whom he speaks so laraent- ingly in the letter before quoted, complained to Mr. Home, that she was teazed with Hamilton's dangling attentions, which she was convinced had no serious aim, and hinted an earnest Avish to get rid of him. " You are his friend," said she, " tell him, he ex- I 2 88 LIVES OF EMINENT SCOTSMEN. poses both himself and me to the ridicule of our ac- quaintance." " No, madam," said Mr. Home, who knew how to appreciate the fervor of Hamilton's passion, " you shall accomplish his cure yourself, and by the simplest method. Dance with him at to- night's assembly, and shew him every mark of your kindness, as if you believed his passion sincere, and had resolved to favour his suit. Take my word for it, you'll hear no more of him." The lady adopted the counsel, and the success of the experiment was complete. In poetry, however, no man could breath a fiercer flame. In some rather conceited lines, " Upon hear- ing his picture was in a Lady's Breast," he chides it for Ingrossing all that beauteous heaven That Chloe, lavish maid, has given ; And then passionately exclaims : I cannot blame thee : were I lord Of all the wealth these breasts atFord, I'd be a miser too, nor give An alms to keep a God alive. A noble burst of fancy ! The most genuine pas- sion will seek in vain for a more expressive image of the boundless avarice of love. To the merit of the poem of Contemplation, Pro- fessor Richardson has done such ample justice, as to leave little room for additional observation. He re- marks, with great truth, that Hamilton is here more grave than lofty, more solemn than sublime. When he attempts " to soar the heights of Deity," to dis- POETS. — HAMILTON OF BANGOUR. 89 cover the designs of the Creator with respect to the present and future state of man, to search the perfect laws, That constant bind th' unerring cause, his conceptions are without either the grandeur suited to the subject, or the novelty which might ex- cuse the attempt to scan what Milton had scanned with almost more than mortal ken before. Some of the questions, into which he throws his cogitations, are strange enough. When Time shall let his curtain fall, Must dreary nothing swalloiv all ? Must we th' unfinished piece deplore, Ere half the pompous piece be o'er ? &c. Ivlr. Richardson has observed, with equal truth, that he is " more tender than pathetic ;" but he has passed unnoticed the marked effect which this cast of mind has had on the character of this particular poem. The " struggles, relapses, recoveries, and final discomfiture, of a mind, striving with an obsti- nate and habituated passion," might have been sup- posed to present many situations of deep interest ; but it cannot i^e said, that deep interest is the sort of feeling excited by any part of the poem of Contem- plation. We see love alternately driven away and returning, without feeling moved to more than a smile at the archness of the sly intruder. We see him triumph at last, without pit3'ing his victim, thougli compelled to admire the elegance of the strains in which the vanquished Strcplion resigns himself to his fate. I 3 90 LIVES OF EMINENT SCOTSMEN. Pass but some fleeting moments o'er, This rebel heart shall beat no more ; Then from my dark and closing eye The form belov'd shall ever fly, The tyranny of love shall cease, Both laid down to sleep in peace ; To share alike our mortal lot, Her beauties and my cares forgot. Of the poems by Hamilton, not devoted to love, the most deserving of notice is " The Episode of the Thistle," which appears to have been intended as part of a larger work, never completed, called "The Flowers." It is an ingenious attempt, by a well de- vised fable, to account for the selection of the thistle as the national emblem of Scotland. The poet opens the subject with the following elegant apostrophe : Thrice happy plant ! fair Scotia's greatest pride ; Emblem of modest valour, unprovok'd That harmeth not ; provok'd that will not bear Wrong unreveng'd. -How oft beneath Its martial influence, have Scotia's sons Through every age with dauntless valour fought On every hostile ground ! while o'er their breast, Companion to the silver star, blest type Of fame, unsullied and superior deed. Distinguished ornament ! this native plant Surrounds the sainted cross, with costly row Of gems emblaz'd, and flame of radiant gold, A sacred mark, their glory and their pride ! POETS.— HAMILTON OF BANGOUR. 9l The poet then proceeds to relate how the illustrious plant first rose to renown. The Scots and Picts had long been inveterate enemies ; but, when Achaius reign'd^ By the disposing will of gracious Heav'n Ordain'd the prince of peace, fair Ethelind, Grace of the Pictish throne, in rosy youth Of beauty's bloom, in his young heart inspir'd Spousal desires ; soft love and dove-ey'd peace Her dowry. Then his hymeneal torch Concord high brandish'd, and in bonds of love Link'd the contending race. This union had not long taken place, when the Picts were invaded by the Saxons under Athelstane. Hungus, King of the Picts, solicits the aid of his new friend and relation, Achaius, who joins him with a chosen band of Scottish warriors. The two armies are on the eve of battle, when, as Achaius lay slumbering in his tent, the tutelar saint of Scotland, St. Andrew, appeared to him in a vision : in his right hand he held A cross, far beaming through the night ; his left A pointed thistle rear'd. " Fear not," he cry'd, " Thy country's early pride, for lo ! to thee Commission'd, I from Heav'n's eternal king, Ethereal messenger of tidings glad. Propitious now am sent : then be thou bold. To-morrow shall deliver to thy hand The troops of Athelstane. But, oh ! attend, Instructed from the skies, the terms of fate Conditional assign'd ; for if misled 92 LIVES OF EMINENT SCOTSMEN. By sacred lust of arbitrary sway, Thou, or of thee to come, thy race shall wage Injurious war, unrighteous to invade His neighbour's realms ; who dares the guilty deed, Him, Heaven shall desert in needful hour Of sad distress, deliver'd o'er a prey To all the nations round. This plant I bear. Expressive emblem of thy equal deed : This, inoffensive in its native field. Peaceful inhabitant and lowly grows ; Yet who with hostile hands its bristly spears Unpunish'd may provoke i And such be thou, Unprompt t' invade and active to defend." The Saxons are defeated ; and Achaius, returning home, is not unmindful of the heavenly dream. to inspire Love of heroic worth and kindle seeds Of virtuous emulation in the soul Ripening to deed, he crown'd his manly breast "With a refulgent star, and in the star. Amidst the rubies' blazC; distinguish'd shines The sainted cross, around whose golden verge Th' embroider'd thistle, blest inclosure ! winds A warlike foliage of ported spears Defenceful. He confers similar insignia on a chosen number of his followers, and institutes the order of the Thistle, Inviolate and sacred, to preserve The ordinance of Heav'n. The poet then glances briefly at the fortunes of the POETS. — HAMILTON OF BANGOUR. 93 thistle, till In Britain's shield The northern star mingles with George's beams. Consorted light ! and with Hibernia's harp Breathing the spirit of peace and social love, Harmonious power ! the Scottish thistle fills Distinguish'd place, and guards the English rose. The plan of tliis episode, and the political sentiments of which it is made the vehicle, are alike deserving of praise. History might supply us with a more au- thentic origin for our national emblem, but it could not supply us with one more fraught with moral pur- pose, or more accordant with every patriotic feeling. The blank verse which the author has adopted in this poem, does not seem to have been altogether adapted to his powers : yet a reader must be struck with the felicity with which more than one of the passages which have been quoted are modulated. The only piece which Hamilton wrote in his native language was " the Braes of Yarrow," designated by Mr. Richardson, as " one of the finest ballads ever written." Another critic, whose opinion of the an- cient ballad poetry of Scotland must be allowed to have considerable weight, has passed a very different judgment upon it. " It is," says Mr. Pinkerton, " in very bad taste, and quite unlike the ancient Scottish manner, being even inferior to the poorest of the old ballads with this title. His repeated words and Hues causing an eternal jingle, his confused narration and affected pathos, throw this piece among the rubbish of poetry." Although a warm participator in Mr. Rich- 94 LIVES OF EMINENT SCOTSMEN. ardson's general admiration of Hamilton, I am inclined, in this instance, to agree with IMr. Pinkerton. The jingle and affected pathos of which he complains, are indeed sickening. Lang maun she weep, laug maun she, maun she weep, Lang maun she weep with dule and sorrow, ice. Then build, then build, ye sisters, sisters sad, Ye sisters sad, his tomb with sorrow, &c. It is for those who ean attune their voices to such rant, to discover where the pathos of it lies. Simpli- city and melody were never surely so departed from before. There exists in MS. a fragment of a poem by Ha- milton, not published in his works, called the " Maid of Gallowshiels." It is an epic of the heroi-comic kind, intended to celebrate the contest between a piper and fiddler, for the fair Maid of Gallowshiels. Hamilton had designed to extend it to twelve books, but has only completed the first and a portion of the second. Dr. Lcyden, who owns himself indebted to the friendship of Dr. Robert Anderson for his know- ledge of this MS. gives the following account of it in his preface to the " Complaynt of Scotland." — " In the first (book) the fiddler challenges the piper to a trial of musical skill, and proposes that the maid herself should be the umpire of the contest." Sole in her breast the favourite youth shall reign, Whose hand shall sweetest wake the warbled strain ; And if to me the ill-fated piper yield. As sure I trust, this well contested field, I POETS.— HAMILTON OF BANGOUR. 95 I High in the sacred dome his pipes I raise, ; The trophy of my fame to after days ; That all may know as they the pipes survey, ' The fiddler's deed and this the signal day. All Gallowshiels the daring challenge heard, '; Full blank they stood, and for their piper fear'd ; I Fearless alone he rose in open view, And in the midst his sounding bagpipe threw. <' The history of the two heroes is related with various episodes ; and the piper deduces his origin from Colin of Gallowshiels, whd bore the identical bagpipe at the battle of Harlaw, with which his descendant re- solves to maintain the glory of the piper race. The second book, the subject of which is the trial of skill, commences with tht following exquisite description of the bagpipe." Now in his artful hand the bagpipe held. Elate, the piper wide surveys the field. O'er all he throws his quick discerning eyes. And views their hopes and fears alternate rise. Old Glenderule, in Gallowshiels long fara'd For works of skill, the perfect wonder frara'd; His shining steel first lopp'd, with dexterous toil. From a tall spreading elm the branchy spoil. The clouded wood he next divides in twain. And smoothes them equal to an oval plane. Six leather folds in still connected rows To either plank conformed, the sides compose ; The wimble perforates the base with care, A destin'd passage opening to the air ; But once inclosed within the narrow space, The opposing valve forbids the backward race. 96 LIVES OF EMINENT SCOTSMEN. Fast to the swelling bag, two reeds combin'd. Receive the blasts of the melodious wind. Round from the twining loom, with skill divine Embost, the joints in silver circles shine ; In secret prison pent, the accents lie, Until his arm the lab'ring artist ply : ' Then duteous they forsake their dark' abode, Fellows no more, and wing a sep'rat^ road. These upward through the narrow channel glide In ways unseen, a solemn murmuring tide ; Those thro' the narrow part, their journey bend Of sweeter sort, and to the earth descend. O'er the small pipe at equal distance, lye Eight shining holes o'er which his fingers fly. From side to side the aerial spirit bounds : The flying fingers form the passing sounds, That, issuing gently thro' the polish'd door, Mix with the common air and charm no more. This gift long since old Glenderule consign'd, The lasting witness of his friendly mind. To the fam'd author of the piper's line. Each empty space shone rich in fair design : Himself appears high in the sculptur'd wood. As bold in the Harlean field he stood. Serene, amidst the dangers of the day. Full in the van yoa might behold him play ; There in the humble mood of peace he stands. Before him pleas'd are seen the dancing bands. In mazy roads the flj'ing ring they blend, So lively fram'd they seem from earth t' ascend. Four gilded straps the artist's arm surround, Two knit by clasps, and two by buckles bound. His artful elbow now the youth essays, A tuneful squeeze to wake the sleeping lays. POETS HAMILTON OF BANGOUR. 97 With lab'ring bellows thus the smith inspires To frame the polish'd lock, the forge's fires ; Couceal'd in ashes lie the flames below, 'Till the resounding lungs of bellows blow ; Then mounting high, o'er the illumin'd room Spreads the brown light, and gilds the dusky gloom ; The bursting sounds in narrow prisons pent. Rouse, in their cells, loud rumbling for a vent. Loud tempests now the deafen'd ear assail ; Now gently sweet is breath'd a sober gale : As when the hawk his mountain nest forsakes. Fierce for his prey his rustling wings he shakes ; The air impell'd by th' unharmonious shock, Sounds clattering and abrupt through all the rock. But as she flies, she shapes to smoother space Her winnowiiig vans, and swims the aerial space. G. R. PART 3.] 98 LIVES OF EMINENT SCOTSMEN, HAMILTON OF GILBERTFIELD. The name of Hamillou of Gilbertfield has suffered in celebrity from its similarity to that of a greater poet; but, if not illustrated by works of such merit as those of Hauiilton of Bangour, it is connected with productions of too much merit to justify a slight re- gard. A writer, whose strains could inspire an Allan Ramsay with emulation, could not have been of a class doomed to be forgotten. Oblivion will be kind to him on this account alone, as Sir Walter Raleigh beautifully tells us she has been to the adorer of Laura : Oblivion laid Petrarch on Laura's tomb.* Mr. Hamilton, of Gilbertfield, was the son of Hamilton of Ladylands. He entered the army early in life ; but, after considerable service, returned to his paternal home with no higher rank than that of a lieu- * Raleigh must of course be presumed to express somewhat hyperbolically his opinion of the Italian poet The line occurs, I believe, in a set of verses in commendation of some very inferior poet, on whose appearance Oblivion is said to have performed this service for Petrarch. a. s. POETS.— HAMILTON OF GILBERTFIELD. 99 tenant. His time was now divided between the sports of the field, the cultivation of several valued friend- ships with men of genius and taste, and the occasional production of some effusion of his own, in which the gentleman and the poet were alike conspicuous. His intimacy with the author of the Gentle Shepherd, three of his Epistles to whom are to be found in the common editions of Ramsay's works, commenced in an admiration, on Ramsay's part, of some pieces which had found their way into circulation from Hamilton's pen. When I begoud first to con verse. And cou'd your " Ardry whins" rehearse. Where bony Heck ran fast and fierce. It warm'd my breast ; Then emulation did me pierce, Whilk since near ceast. May I be licket wi' a bittle. Gin of your numbers I think little, Ye're never ragget, shan, nor kittle. But blyth and gabby ; And hit the spirit to a tittle I Of standart Habby. [ Ramsay to Hamilton. Towards the close of his life, Hamilton resided at ■ Letterick, in the county of Lanark, and there he died I at a very advanced age in 1751. 1 His principal productions are to be found in Wat- 1 son's Choice Collection of Scots Poems. One of these, an ! Elegy on Habbie Simpson, the piper of Kilbarchan, t K 2 100 LIVES OF EMINENT SCOTSMEN. records a very poetic circumstance in the ancient manners of our country. " wha will cause our shearers shear ? Wha will bend up the brags of weir." It appears, that, in former times, it was the custom for a piper to play behind the reapers while at work ; and to the poetical enthusiasm thus excited and kept alive, we are probably indebted for many of those airs and songs which have given Scotland so unrivalled a celebrity, while the authors of them remain as un- known as if they had never existed. In 1722, INIr. Hamilton published an abridgement, in modern Scottish, of Henry the Minstrel's Life of Wallace ; but it has not added any thing to his fame. Dr. Irving has only recorded the general opinion, when he says, that it was " an injudicious and useless work." C. H. POETS.— SAMUEL COLVIL. 101 SAMUEL COLYIL. It is a matter of literary history, of which the Scotch have perhaps no great reason to be proud, that among the crowd of imitators of Butler's admirable poem of Hudibras, Scotsmen should hold the foremost place. There has been a London Hudibras* and an Irish Hudibras,t''and even a Dutch| Hudibras ; but it is generally allowed that they all fall short of what is called the Scotch Hudibras, or more properly speak- ing "The Whigs' Supplication," by Samuel Colvil : and that again is as far exceeded by the Knight of the Kirk, and other works of Meston. To be the best of imitators, however, is but sorry renown. They are, indeed, servum pecus. To use a simile which Butler, in hh Characters, seems to have provided for these Scotch followers — an imitator " catches his wit like the itch, of somebody else that had it before, and when he writes he does but scratch himself; his muse is not inspired, but infected with another man's fancy." * " Vulgus Britannicus ; or. The British Hudibras : containing The Secret History of the Late London Mob," &c. 1710. t " The Irish Hudibras ; or, Fingalean Prince," 1695. X " Hogan Moganidcs ; or, The Dutch Hudibras," 1674. K 3 102 LIVES OF EMINENT SCOTSMEN. Of Colvil's personal history nothing is known. His first appearance as a writer is supposed to have been in 1673. A work printed at Edinburgh in that year is extant, entitled " An Historical Dispute of the Pa- pac}' and Popish Religion," which bears to be written by " Sam. Colvil," but whether this was the same individual who wrote the " Whigs' Supplication" is not certain. The latter work was published at London, in duodecimo, in the year 1681. It was much read, and has even continued to be read, down to a late period. Many editions of it have been printed, and one at St. Andrew's in 1796. The degree of popularity which a work has main- tained is usually allowed to indicate its degree of merit : but this conclusion, which would hold in any other case, scarcely holds in the present. Colvil has bor- rowed so largely from the original Hudibras, that it is impossible to say, how far he is indebted for the repu- tation of his work to his own genius, and how far to Butler's. It is not the design and manner, merely, which he has borrowed ; he has actually adopted a great many entire passages, without the slightest alteration. As Butler's Hudibras was a satire on the zealots of the reign of Charles the First, so Colvil's relates to the insurrection of the Scottish Covenanters, in the reign of Charles the Second. After much wrestling of the spirit, they resolve to indite a supplication to the king ; and the Gude Man, their chief, despatches his 'squire to London, to present it to his Majesty. The 'squire meets, in London, with his prototype, Ralpho, and a dispute commences between them, on the merits of Presbytery, which the former defends against the rail- POETS.— SAMUEL COLVIL. 103 Jery of the latter. The supplication is presented to the king with a long speech from the 'squire, whose farewell to London closes the poem. The plan of the " Supplication" is better than its execution. Its portraitures of character are feebly drawn, and the narrative tediously protracted. There is abundance of that odd combination which forms so material a feature of the Hudibrastic school ; but it is, too generally, oddity without wit. So we may prove Cameleons, beef and cabbage eaters — ******* That horse are men, and owls are ounces — ****** That tallow cakes are amber-grease ; That sun and moon are Cheshire cheese. The author is occasionally, however, both spirited and ingenious ; and, had he struck out a new path for himself, instead of dully plodding in that of ano- ther, might have acquired a respectable rank among minor poets. The following telescopic view of things not to be seen in the moon, may serve as a fair speci- men of his style. Cavaliers on horseback prancing, Maids about a May-pole dancing. Men in taverns, wine carousing, Beggars by the highway lousing. Soldiers forging ale-house brawlings. To be let go without their lawings : Stirs in streets, by grooms and pages. Mountebanks playing on stages, 104 LIVES OF EMINENT SCOTSMEN. Gardens planting, houses bi" or the Epistle by Mr. Wilkes, was published, have already been noticed ; it still remains to relate some consequences which arose out of it, of a very disagreeable description, and which there is reason to believe, tended in no small degree to embitter the latter years of Dr. Armstrong's life. The poem con- tained a lively satire on the follies of " the day ;" but of so general a nature, that the author had doubtless hoped to see his taxing like a wild goose fly. Unclaimed of any man. In one unlucky line, however, he happened to hit off a character so suited to what Churchill, with Avhom he had been on habits of intimacy, either thought of himself, or conceived the public thought of him, that nothing would persuade him but that he was personally held out to ridicule. The offensive line occurs in the following passage : " What news to day ? I ask you not what rogue, What paltry imp of fortune's now in vogue ; What forward blund'ring fool was last prefcrr'd. By mere pretence distinguish'd from the herd ; With what new cheat the gaping town is smit ; What crazy scribbler reigns the present wit ; What stuff for winter the two Booths have mixt. What bouncing mimic grows a Roscius next." It is needless to say, how reasonable it was in Mr. PART 3.] M 122 LIVES OF EMINENT SCOTSMEN. • Churchill to conclude, that there could be no otlier " crazy scribbler," except the author of the Rosciad, in the writer's eve ; or to point out the modesty with which he so readily arrogated to himself the charac- ter of the reigning wit of the day ; and still less is it necessary to dwell on the good grace with which an author, who required such large allowances for the deliberate licentiousness of his own pen, should be enraged at so mere a chance medley on the part of another. Churchill was resolved to be revenged, and in his poem, called " The Journey," thus repaid one accidental hit, by twenty mortal stabs at the reputa- tion of a man whom he had once owned as his friend, and joined with all the world in admiring as a writer. •' Let them with Armstrong, taking leave of sense. Read musty lecturer on Benevolence ; Or con the pages of his gaping Day, Where all his former fame was thrown away, Where all but barren labour was forgot. And the vain stiffness of a letter'd Scot ; Let them with Armstrong pass the term of light. But not one hour of darkness ; when the night Suspends this mortal coil, when mem'ry wakes. When for our past misdoings conscience takes A deep revenge, when by reflection led She draws his curtains, and looks comfort dead. Let ev'ry muse be gone ; in vain he turns. And tries to pray for sleep : an ^tna burns, A more than iEtna, in his coward breast. And guilt, with vengeance arm'd, forbids the rest ; Though soft as plumage from young Zephyr's wing, His couch seems hard, and no relief can bring ; POETS.— ARMSTRONG. 123 Ingratitude hath planted daggers there, ^o cood man can deserve, no brave man bear. About the same time, a coolness took place be- tween Dr. Armstrong and Mr. Wilkes, on account of the obloquy which the latter was perpetually endea- vouring to cast on the Scottish nation in his North Briton ; and this led to the disclosure of some rather embarrassing circumstances, respecting the publication of the Epistle which had provoked the ire of Church- hill. Armstrong had always alfected to disapprove of its publication, and spoke of it as a production designed only for private perusal. How far this was the real state of the case, will be seen from the fol- lowing letters, which now appeared in succession in the Public Advertiser, the favorite vehicle of Wilkes, but which have never been republished in any of the biographical collections. To the Printer of the Public Advertiser. Sir, I am not surprised that the patriot of Prince's Court* attacks Sir John Dalrymple for his detection of that pseudo patriot, Algernon Sydney, as that same Algernon received the wages of iniquity, as our present worthy patriot does, undoubtedly, at least probably, from the rivals and enemies of our country. But the patriot seems to quit his proper and usual * Prince's Court was, at that time, the residence of Mr. Wilkes. a. s. 124 LIVES OF EMINENT SCOTSMEN. tract in deceiving only his intimates and friends ; for I am assured that Sir John Dalrymple is neither the one nor the other. He always took more delight in exposing his friends than in hurting his enemies. We know, at least I am assured of the fact, that a very worthy and ingenious friend of this impostor trusted him with a jeu d'esprit of a poem, incorrect indeed, but which bore every mark of a true, though ungovcrned, genius. This poem, though rough as it was, he car- ried to A. Millar, late Bookseller in the Strand, and published it in his friend's name, without his know- ledge. This is a fact, Mr. Printer ; therefore, I think Mr. W. should let alone Scotch writers. Dies. (Public Advertiser, March 23, 1773.} In the Public Advertiser of March 24, 1773, there is a letter, which, after quoting the preceding attack of Dies as one of the various calumnies circulated against jMr. Wilkes, thus proceeds — " Your correspondent, sir, is pleased to appeal to a dead Bookseller ; I appeal to the living author, who is now in London. He desired the poem might be published : it was written for the public eye : he di- rected the Bookseller to call on JMr. W. for tlie copy. The Bookseller produced his credentials, under the author's own hand, upon which Mr. W. gave him the manuscript of the poem. It was aftertvards published in the kindest way for the author's reputation, as a Fragment. I believe he will not chuse to restore the passages, which were omitted in the first edition of 1760. W^hen he does, the kindness, and perhaps the POETS ARMSTRONG. 125 judgment, of the Editor will appear, I am told, in a very strong and favourable light. The Poem was not published till the Bookseller had received a second positive order for that purpose, from the author, after several objections to the publication had been trans- mitted to him in Germany, and amendments made by himself. li was a favourite child, not without merit, although scarcely quite so much as the fond father imagined. Mr. Churchill wrote the four fol- lowing lines on that poem, which were never forgiven. They,are in the Journey. ' Or con the pages of his gaping Day, Where all his former fame was thrown away, Where all, but barren labour was forgot. And the vain stiffness of a lettered Scot.' To the Printer of the Public Advertiser. Sir, I thought that Mr, W's Scotch friend would, €re this day, have forgot that " Day," which it must be confessed added very little reputation to his former literary fame. The cynical empiric ought to remem- ber that it was by his own express orders that Day came to light. I doubt not but the ingenious author of the Sketches has given the aid of his literary talents to Sir John ; but methinks he ought to vouchsafe to content himself with giving private applause to what is, in part, his own work, and to avoid puffing up its merits before a public, not very fond of his misanthro- pical, scotchified, and dull observations. His vain attempts at humour are long known, and as long 126 LIVES OF EMINENT SCOTSMEN, despised. If ever Mr. W. honoured him with his company, sure I am, it was more to laugh at his cyni- cal folly and absurdity, than to receive either informa- tion or delight from his conversation. *' I desire him, however, to confine his rancorous belchings to the private conversation of his very few friends left. I may be tempted to drag him forth, by name, to public chastisement, for I cannot, with pa- tience, see the hero, to whom we owe our liberty, reviled by the poisonous breatli of a man, already de- tested for his kno^vn averson to mankind. This may serve, for this Day, in answer to Dies. Nox. (Public Advertiser, April 1, 1773.^ These letters, as may well be supposed, gave great offence to Dr. Armstrong. On the 7th of April, he called on Mr. Wilkes, at his house, and accused him of being the author of this attack on his character, in very abrupt terras. In the Gentleman's Magazine for 1792, the sub- stance of this conversation, as minuted down (appa- rently by Mr. Wilkes) immediately after it took place, is preserved, and it is curious, Mr. Wilkes, on being charged with the attack, ob- served that he had been roughly treated in the letter signed Dies. " Yes," said the Doctor, " but I be- lieve you wrote that on purpose to bring on the con- troversy — I am almost sure of it." Wilkes refused to answer interrogatories, and referred the Doctor to jNIr. Woodfall, the printer. Dr. A, — •' Whoever has abused me, sir, is a villain ; POETS ARMSTRONG. 127 and your endeavours, sir, to set Scotland and England together, are very bad." Mr. Wilkes remarked, that the Scots had done that, thoroughly, by their own conduct ; said that he had never attacked the Doctor personally, but on the con- trary had complimented him in conjunction with Churchill in his mock Dedication to Mortimer. He appealed to the Doctor, if he had not himself in- veighed against Scotland, in the severest terms ? The Doctor answered, " I only did it in joke, sir ; you did it in bitterness : besides, it was my country." After some further conversation, Dr. A. observed, " I was happier with you than any man in the world, for a great many years, and complimented you not a little in the Day." Mr. W. — " I am abused, in Dies, for that publica- tion, and for the manner of it, both which you approved." Dr. A.—" I did so." Mr. W. — " I was abused at first, I am told, in the manuscript of Dies, for having sold the copy, and put the money in my pocket, but that charge was sup- pressed in the printed letter." Dr. A.—" I know nothing of that." The interview then terminated, without further explanation. There are two things of which no person will, pro- bably, have any doubt, after perusing these singular proceedings : first, that Wilkes was really, as Ann- strong affirmed, the author of the whole of the corres- pondence in the Public Advertiser, and attacked him- Bclf, in order to furnish some sort of apology for be- 128 LIVES OF EMINENT SCOTSMEN, tracing his former friend ; and second, that the storj' told in that correspondence, about Armstrong's privity to the publication of " Day," is the true one. The whole of the little plot has the marks of Wilkes's finesse about it, nor is it possible to assign any motive which could induce Armstrong to start a controversy, that was so sure to end to his own disadvantage. When the charge is advanced he does not attempt to deny it — he is angry because he cannot ; he goes to complain, but obtains no satisfaction ; and then sits down in silence under the exposure. The deception disclosed was, after all, of a very ve- nial description ; and Armstrong, though he had rea- son to feel deeply hurt at the artifice and treachery of Wilkes, had none to be ashamed of the part he had himself acted in this transaction. Dr. Armstrong died at his house in Russel-street, Covent-garden, on the 7th September, 1779 ; and, to the surprise of his friends, who thought him poor, left behind him more than three thousand pounds, saved out of a ver^' moderate income. The character of Armstrong seems, on the whole, to have been of an amiable,though somewhat splenetic cast. By his friends, among whom he numbered some of the ablest and worthiest men of his time — Thomson, Granger, Theobald, Birch, Mead, Sir John Pringle, 6cc. he was much respected and esteemed. Several of them have borne strong testimony to the goodness of his heart, and general sincerity of his conduct. — He was blunt in his manners, and not very choice in his conversational language ; but these asperities were quickly forgot in the liveliness of obsen'ation and dry POETS.— ARMSTRONG. 129 humour with which they were accompanied. He is said to have been indolent and inactive, and fonder, at all times, of making one of a social party of literary friends, than of attending any serious occupation ; and to this, perhaps, as much as to that " distempered ex- cess of sensibility," of which he talks in his Commen- taries, we may ascribe the little success he experienced in his profession. In Dr. Birch's papers* there is a Tavern invitation from Armstrong to the Doctor, which, as illustrating the personal habits of some of the literati of tliose days, is curious. The following is a copy. » Dear Sir, If you are to be at leisure next Friday, Mr. Spencet and I shall be glad to meet you about two atRicliard's Coffee-house, within Temple-bar, from %vhence we shall adjourn to any Tavern you please, to dine together. If Friday is not convenient for you, please leave word at the bar here : at meeting we shall agree upon some day next week. I am, Dear Sir, Your most humble and obliged servant, John Armstrong. " RaivthweWofl;. Wednesday Evening, October 6, 1742." ' With the author of the Seasons, Dr. Armstrong was, * No. 4300 Birch's papers, British Museum, t The collector of the Anecdotes. X Where was Rawthwell's ? 130 LIVES OF EMINENT SCOTSMEN, from his first coming to London, in the habits of pe- culiar intimacy ; and he is generally understood to have been his coadjutor in the composition of the " Castle of Indolence," to both a most congenial sub- ject. The sixty-eighth stanza was entirely written by Armstrong. The reputation of Armstrong, as a poet, must rest chiefly on his " Art of Preserving Health ;" but that has merit enough of itself to bear him on the w ings of renown through many a distant age. In point of classical elegance, purity, and simplicity of style, as well as truth of sentiment, it is not perhaps excelled by any poem of the Didactic kind, in the English language. The subject was one " unattempted, yet in prose or rhyme." the secret wilds, I trace, Of nature, and with daring steps proceed Through paths the Muses never trod before. Book I. The field was encompassed with difficulties, for though it opened man}- sources of poetical ideas, still the leading tlieme was of the most ordinary matters of human existence ; — eating, drinking, and sleeping ; pain, sickness, and disease ; all the infirmities, in short, which flesh is heir to. The skill and imagination which were required to give grace and elevation to such topics as these, could only belong to a mind of the highest order. The task, as Dr. Warton remarks, (in his reflections on Didactic Poetry, prefixed to his Edition of Virgil,) was reserved to Armstrong, and he has executed it nobly. POETS. — ARMSTRONG. 131 ! The author appears throughout to have had Lucre- I tius in his eye ; but he has shewn himself no servile imitator. If we compare the opening invocation of Hygeia by Armstrong with the invocation of Venus by Lucretius, or both their descriptions of a pestilence, we shall be convinced that it was the rivalry of equals. I The approach of Hygeia through " the blue serenity of , Heaven," and the dispersion of the various baleful ; forms of disease and death into the loathsome gloom, i are conceived and pourtrayed in the very highest ' spirit of poetry. The instance of wide wasting pes- ! tilence, which Armstrong has selected for a trial of his strength with 'the Roman poet, in grand and pa- I thetic description, is distinguished by one extremely poetical circumstance. The instance he selects, is • that of the sweating sickness, which laid England waste during the reign of the tyrant Richard. It ' was a notion universally entertained by the common people of that period, that the disease attacked and was fatal to Englishmen alone, and that it was not ihiiited in its rage to England, but extended to En- frlishmen, wherever Englishmen were to be found . throughout the world. A sublimer idea of the aveng- iiii; power of Heaven over a guilty race, and one more calculated to inspire a deep awe into the mind, it is , impossible to imagine. Armstrong appreciated it with a poet's eye, and has availed himself of its agency with very happy elFect. O'er the mournful land. Til' infected city pour'd her hurrying swarms ; Ivous'd by the flames that fir'd her seats around -I h' infected country rush'd into the town. 132 LIVES OF EMINENT SCOTSMEN. Some, sad at home, and in the desart some, Abjur'd the fatal commerce of mankind; In vain: where'er they fled, the fates pursu'd ; Others, with hopes more specious, cross'd the main. To seek protection in far distant skies ; But none tliey found. It seem'd the general air, From pole tu pole, from Atlas to the East, "Was then at enmity with English blood ; For, but the race of England, all were safe In foreign climes ; nor did this fury taste The foreign blood which England then contain'd. ^^^le^e should they fly ? The circumambient Heaven Involv'd them still; and every breeze was bane. Where lind relief? The salutary art Was mute ; and startled at the new disease. In fearful whispers hopeless omens gave. To Heaven with suppliant rites they sent their prayers. Heaven heard them not. Of every hope depriv'd, Fatigued with vain resources ; and subdu'd With woes resistless, and enfeebling fear ; Passive they sunk beneath the weighty blow. Nothing but lamentable sounds was heard ; Nor aught was seen but ghastly views of death. Infectious horror ran from place to place, And pale despair. 'Twas all the business then. To tend the sick, and in their turns to die. In heaps they fell : and oft one bed, they say, The sick'ning, dying, and the dead, contain'd. Armstrong has been reproached with exaggeration in his description of the " moist malignity" and va- riableness of the English climate, in which all the seasons are said to " mix in every monstrous day." It POETS ARMSTRONG. 133 must be confessed that the picture is overcharged; and perhaps in no part of the work is more excep- tionable matter to be found, than in the passages on this subject. " Our fathers talk Of summers, balmy airs, and skies serene : Good heaven ! For what unexpiated crimes This dismal change ?" The author here assumes it as a fact, that " a dis- mal change" in the climate has taken place, when it would have served the purposes of both truth and j)oetry better, tp have corrected a vulgar prejudice, and illustrated that interesting operation of mind, by which " our fatliers talk" of the days of their youth, as days when all nature smiled around them. "The brooding elements, Do they, your powerful ministers of wrath. Prepare some fierce exterminating plague ? Or is it fix'd in the decrees above That lofty Albion melt into the main ?" This, it must be confessed, is very genuine bombast. The colours, in which Dr. Armstrong has painted the English climate, are so greatly exaggerated, as to have sometimes suggested a doubt, whether it was really the English climate which the Doctor had in his mind's eye at the time ; that climate so appropri- ately invoked by his friend and countryman Thomson, by the epithet of " merciful." — Looking into the " Beauties of Scotland," something extremely like a solution of this doubt has presented itself, and which, if correct, will aflford a striking example of the influ- ence of early impressions on the mind. N 134 LIVES OF EMINENT SCOTSMEN. The topographist, describing the banks of the Lid- del, Armstrong's native stream, previous to its junc- tion with another river, called the Hermitage, says, " this part of the country is mountainous, high, cold and moist, and lies under the thick and solitary gloom of continualfogs." Let us contrast this witli what Armstrong says of England. Steep'd in continual rains, or with raw fogs Bedew'd, our seasons droop : incumbent still, A ponderous heaven o'erwhelras the sinking soul. The descriptions we see are the same, without even a single circumstance of variation. Is it unfair then, to conclude that they were derived from the same source, and that when Armstrong thought he was de- scribing England, he was only recording his recollec- tions of the scenery of his youth ? N. J. POETS. — JOHN OGILVIE. 135 DR. OGILVIE. John Ogilvie, D.D. was tiie son of the Reverend Mr. Ogilvie, one of the ministers of Aberdeen. He was born about the year 1733, and educated at tlie Marischai college^ Aberdeen. He qualified himself with very little difficulty for the church, and obtained a license to preach long before he was acknowledged by that tuneful fraternity, among whom he seems to have been most ambitious to be enrolled. About the period, at which Dr. Ogilvie began to write verses, there were in Scotland several of the pro- fession of which he was a member, who were inspired , either by the poetical spirit, or the spirit of reforming the abuses which had crept in upon genius; and amongst those, Ogilvie took his station, destined bot^i to aid, in giving refinement to the morality of the age, and in adding to the treasures of the higher de- partments of literature. Dr. Ogilvie officiated as minister of Midmar, in the county of Aberdeen, from the year 1759, up to a late period of his life, having never hazarded his li- cence to preach by writing for the stage ; an act for which other distinguished persons have been pu- nished in consequence of the general persuasion, that the most effectual mode of raising disgust at the grossncss of the dramatic exhibitions of earlier days, N 2 136 LIVES OF EMINENT SCOTSMEN. is by writing or preaching against them, and not li\ introducing to the public, in their theatres, the purest images of the passions. The literary works which he produced during this period, were, however, extremely numerous. The events of his life, indeed, are nothing but a succession of appearances in prose or rhyme. In 1758, hepublisli- ed the Day of Judgement, a Poem ; in 1759, another edition of the Day of Judgement corrected, with an Ode to Melancholy, Ode on Sleep, Ode on Time, Lines to the 3Iemory of Mr. H. M. an Elegy, Lines to the IMemory of the late pious and ingenious Mr. Harvey, with a paraphrase of tlie tliird chapter of Habbakuk ; in 1762, Poems on several subjects, to which was pre- fixed, an Essay on the Lyric Poetry of the Ancients, in two letters, inscribed to the Right Hon. James Lord Deskfoord ; in 1763, Providence, an Allegorical Poem, in three books; in 1765, Solitude, or the Elysium of the Poets, a Vision, to which was subjoined an Elegy ; in 1769, Paradise, a Poem, and two volumes of Poems on several subjects ; in 1777, Rona, a Poem ; in 177-1, Philosophical and Critical Observa- tions on the nature, characters, and various species of composition ; in 1783, an enquiry into the causes of the Infidelity and Scepticism of the Times ; in 1793, the Theology of Plato, compared with the prin- ciples of the Oriental and Grecian Philosophy ; in 1801, Britannia, an Epic Poem, in twenty books, to which was prefixed a Critical Dissertation on Epic Machinery ; and in 1802, an Examination of the Evidence from Prophecy, in behalf of the Christian Religion. POETS.— JOHN OGILVIE. 137 Dr. Ogilvie closed a long life, devoted to literary pursuits, and to the faithful discharge of his duties as a Christian minister, in the year 1814, and 81st of his age. In speaking of the literary character of Dr. Ogilvie, the first thing that must strike every one is the vast disparity between the quantity he has written, and the degree of celebrity which he has acquired. The name is scarcely known in poetry, and in prose still less; notwithstanding the pile of volumes which at- tests the pains taken to raise it into notice. It is difficult ^to imagine, that while a Beattie, a Reid, a Blacklock, and many others of the same asra with Ogilvie, have obtained their due meed of praise, such neglect could have been the portion of genius deserving of a better fate. It is unquestiona- bly true, however, that Ogilvie was a man of very great genius, and that his works shew it. Are the public then to blame, that they have suffered them to fall into such obscurity ? This it would be vain to affirm, unless it could be accompanied with some hope of seeing them yet read, of which it must be confessed there is no hope. The truth is, that the public were not to blame. Ogilvie, with powers far above the common order, did not know how to use them with effect. He was an able man, lost. His intellectual wealth and industry were wasted in huge and unhappy speculations. Of all his books, there is not one which, as a whole, can be expected to please the general reader. Noble sentiments, bril- liant conceptions, and poetic graces, may be culled in profusion from the mass ; but there is no one pro- duction in which they so predominate (if we except N J 138 LIVES OF EMINENT SCOTSMEN, some of his minor pieces) as to induce it to be se- lected for a happier fate than the rest. Had the same talent which Ogilvie threw away on a number of ob- jects been concentrated on one, and that one chosen with judgement and taste, he might have rivalled in popularity the most renowned of his contempora- ries. Among Ogilvie's larger works, that of " Provi- dence" is, perhaps, entitled to the first place. In his preface to it, he says, " the subject of the present essay falls so naturally under the cognizance of every reflecting mind, that we have no reason to be surprised when we find it treated in the most copious manner by many writers, both ancient and modern. It is, however, certain, in general, that philosophical disser- tations, in w^hatever degree intrinsically valuable, lose their eflfect on the bulk of mankind, when they arc not enlivened with those graces which contribute to amuse the imagination. It is on this account that we find a moral work, in which we find the most import- ant truths are accurately investigated, overlooked as uninteresting ; w hen a series of incidents, which are calculated to impress upon the mind some beneficial rule of conduct, is perused w ith satisfaction, and sel- dom fails to establish a favourable prepossessiim. So much stronger is the impulse which leads us to search for pleasure, than that w hich prompts us to desire in- struction." Under the deepest impression of the truth of this maxim, Ogilvie commences his poem, and con- ducts it with such a strict adherence to the form which he condemns, that, in spite of himself, he falls into the ranks of those who fail from that excessive anxiety to instruct, which calculates upon the necessity of POETS. — JOHN OGILVIE. 139 .ibandoning all idea of causing amusement. But there are, in this poem, several passages of great poe- tical beauty, wliicli, if they formed parts of a more popular work, would often be quoted as evidences of the first school.— The following lines upon Contem- plation are delightful. " I turn'd my wandering steps aside. And sought the deepest shade. There close iminur'd, Where scarce a zephyr stirr'd the rustling boughs, Silent I sat, and gave my thoughts to range O'er worlds remote, as working fancy led The stream of meditation ; blaming now. And now absolving Providence. Alone I sat not long. A mountain's clifted side (Seen through a visio) shevv'd a gloomy cave, Hollow and deep, where scarce the quivering ray Had sprinkled glimmering twilight. The high roof, Curv'd like the arch of heaven, hung awful o'er The solemn vault below ; through whose wide bound The long loud voice in many a lengthening moan Rolls on the listening ear. Advancing slow From this dark cell of solitary thought, I raark'd a venerable sage ; his cheek Furrow'd by Time, and o'er hu hoary head The cold white hand of sleicly stealvig Age Had shower d its lucid silver : sweetly mild His looks, his mien; and, rais'd to heaven, his eyes Beam'd like fair Evening's dewy star that shines With placid radiance : graceful was his form, And simple his attire ; his bending hand Lean'd on an ivory staff, the prop of age ; Yet firm his step, as one whose youthful blood 140 LIVES OF EMINENT SCOTSMEN. Warra'd, not inflam'd, by Reason's temperate cheer, Had ting'd the florid cheek, nor felt the blast Of cold consumption. With slow step he scal'd The clifF, and walking to the shade, on me Bent a soft look, that pitied while it awed." In another part of " Providence," he describes Fan- cy in a strain of equally elevated poetry. " Her keenly-piercing eye Glanc'd o'er the scene, that lighten'd as she came With hasty step, and shook her dazzling wings That sparkled in the sun : a wavy robe Mantled her bosom, sweeping as she trod In loose luxuriance, and the zephyr sigh'd Soft through its swelling folds. Jler right hand held A globe, where nature's towering fabric rose A living picture ! All the scenes that glow Gay-rob'd and lovely, in some airy dream Where spring comes tripping o'er the low green dale, And strews its lap with flowers. The^e o'er the piece Profusely shone. Her left a magic rod Sustain'd ; that, waving asshewill'd, transform'd The face of things, as wildly working thought Call'd up discordant images, or, rul'd By reason, form'd them gradual, to confirm Some truth, ^^et dubious to th' inquiring mind." Among Dr. Ogilvie's minor poems, there is a very pleasing and interesting one, called " Solitude ;" tlie best work, perhaps, as a whole, which he has produced. The design of it is to give the reader an idea, in as short a compass as possible, of the character, merit, and peculiar excellencies of the most eminent British POETS.— JOHN OGILVIE. 141 pucts. nie author has contrived, for this purpose, a sort of poetical Eiysium for their residence, and eii- j deavourcd to vary the scenery of it, according to the f manners of the different poets with whom it is peo- pled. Some of these pictorial descriptions are sketched with great taste and discrimination. We have Chau- cer tuning his pipe amid a rustic scene, where Rich, yet confus'd, the intermingling sprays Uncouthly gay their simple flowers display'd ; Nor here had fashion plann'd the wildering maze. Nor art's soft touch th' entangling shruhs obey'd. But o'er the whole, majestic nature strode Her form, disdainful'of the mimic hand ; The brightening wilderness before her glow'd. Behind, gay plenty cloth'd the 'broider'd land. A little hamlet in the midst appear'd, ^Yhere antique figures stood expos'd to view ; Of r ugh materials was the structure rear'd, And rouiKi its walls the clasping ivy grew. Not far a laurel's spreading boughs were seen, Beneath whose umbrage sat a careless swain ; The Dryads tripping o'er the daisied green. And bleating flocks confess'd his powerful strain. Shakespeare sits " in regal glory," on " a cliff which o'erhangs the main," and there, obsequious to Fancy's — varying call. The fairy region, at the magic sound. Girt with the hanging wood or mouldering wall. Now bloom'd a villa, or a desert frown'd. 142 LIVES OF EMINENT SCOTSMEN'. And airy tenants o'er the dimpling stream Hung loose ; or high in aim, in effort bold, Suck'd hues ethereal from the dazzling beam, To tinge the violet's velvet coat with gold : Or spoil 'd the citron of its rich perfume. Or caught the light-drop in the liquid air ; Or from the \Yren's breast pick'd the little plume, To braid the tresses of the Naiad's hair. O'er all bright Ariel shone. His devious wing Now swept soft fragrance in the spic}' gale ; Or, fluttering from the dewy lip of spring, Brush'd nectar'd balm, and shower'd it o'er the dale. O'er the dim top a gloomy arbour bow'd, The boughs dark-shadowing veil'd the vaulted blue ; But opening, fair beneath, the vistoed wood Gave the gay climes that radiant burst to view. Here Shakespeare sat. All these external descriptions, however, are greatly surpassed by those passages in which the author depicts the subjects in which each poet de- lighted. In the following sketch of Spenser, he has caught the very spirit and sweetness of that divine author : " I mark'd a fairy train Like clouds gay gleaming 'mid th' aerial blue ; In floating radiance o'er th' illumin'd plain, A glittering tribe, the light assembly flew. Where art with nature's rich luxuriance strove, Half prun'd, half rambling, rose the leafy sprays ; A shepherd swain amid the gloomy grove Play'd, wildly-sweet, his simple roundelays. POETS.— JOHN OGILVIE. ]43 Of hardy knight he told, of fairy queen, Of lover wan, by weeping brook reclin'd ; Of wizard old, that spread his nets unseen ; Of damsel fair, to wicked wight resign'd. Meanwhile, around him hung the shining throng, So sweetly-various flow'd th' enchanting strain ; The Fay that bore his laurel wreath along Was rapt, and stretched her eager arm in vahu Not till the swain's melodious plaint was o'er, Ceas'd the soft, silent, sympathetic tear ; The syren's warbljng from the vocal shore, Thrill'd with such melting notes th' enraptur'd ear. Of Milton, it is beautifully said — " Awhile in converse high the angel guest Held him ; then sweeping o'er the sounding strings, j Such strains he pours, as 'raid the climes of rest ; Thrill the high audience when Urania sings." I The grandeur and universality of Shakespeare's ; genius, are represented by some noble images : " Graceful he mov'd, and scann'd the waste of air, As his strong arm tJi' avenging bolt could wield ; Or catch the tempest by the ragged hair. Or bid an earthquake whelm the blasted field." Ossian, Dr. Ogilvie thinks equal to Shakespeare : \ Not distant far another bard was seen, j (The place was varied, but their height the same.) This opinion he defends in a note, which does credit to his ingenuousness, whatever may be thought 144 LIVES OF EMINENT SCOTSMEN, of its critical acumen. " The author is suliicientiy aware, that by placing Ossian in so exalted a situa- tion, he will give offence to some very critical and even to some good-natured readers, which last class he would please by an^' concession in his power. — The former w ill accuse him of presumption, and want of all poetical taste, for placing any British poet oh a level with Shakespeare, who has so long and so justly maintained an undisputed pre-eminence : the latter, of partiality to a poet, who (in conformity to the absurd distinction which has prevailed among Britons for some time) must, in a peculiar sense, be deemed his countryman. To the first of these he would observe, that his intention in placing near to each other the two greatest natural geniuses of which any age or country can boast, is not so much to represent them as equally excellent, as, by exhibiting them in one view, to give the reader as just an idea as possible of their separate characters. This remark will in a great measure obviate the objection of par- tiality, by which, in the present case, he should be sorry that any reader supposed him to be actu- ated. He gives his own opinion of the merit of Ossian, and is incapable of this illiberal pre- possession." The manner in which the son of Fingal is intro- duced is strikingly picturesque. The power of musing to his thoughtful mind Had lent her eagle pinions. O'er the main He hung : — The spirit of the hollow wind Wak'd on his harp the long-lamenting strain. POETS. — JOHNOGILVIE. 145 Loose fell his hoary locks ; the fanning air Sigh'd through the venerable hairs ; his head A crown adom'd ; his swelling chest was bare ; His limbs the warrior's rougher vesture clad. \o film o'ershadowing dimm'd his piercing sight, NvT felt Ills vigorous form the waste of time ; But tall and ardent as the sons of light, On the rude beech, he look'd, he trod sublime. The author, at the close of the poem, subjoins an interesting note, in which he mourns the neglect which most of the poets, whom he celebrates, ex- perienced from their countrymen. " Let us not, however," he adds with great candour and good sense, " be so partial as to ascribe this series of un- happy events altogether to ingratitude, or even to the bad taste of a rude and undistinguishing people. Calm reflection will suggest other, and perhaps juster causes, from which these effects may be traced. The talents which form an accomplished writer, and those which qualify a man for rising in life, are in them- selves essentially dilFerent, and are very seldom united in any one person. Indeed, it is scarcely possible, that this union can take place unless in some uncommon and particular instances. The man of letters is formed in solitude ; the man of the world in society. It is evident, that before these can be properly blended, an affluent fortune must concur with native genius, and with a disposition suited to make a moderate use both of solitude and society. Where these advantages do not meet together, the man of letters becomes proud, sullen, reserved, from r-ART 3.] o 146 LIVES OF EMINENT SCOTSMEN, the inward consciousness of superior merit, joined with little experience of life or manners ; and thus the disagreeable companion effaceth the impression which is made by the writer. Diffidence and mo- desty, which are likewise the attendants of genius, however amiable in themselves, are yet, by no means, calculated to render their possessor opulent. They are shades, indeed, Mhich heighten the graces of me- rit to the discerning ; but they are shades likewise, which conceal it from the giddy and superficial. If we add to these causes, the envy which eminence, in any profession, naturally excites, we shall account, at least in a great measure, for the narrow and con- tiacted circumstances in which men of genius are permitted to live." The quotations which have been made from Dr. Ogilvie's works, have, it is hoped, sutficed to shew that he was indeed a man of great, though unhappily- directed, talents. Had he been fortunate enough to have hit on some subject of striking interest, it would not now have been necessary to select passages from the immense body of his works, in testimony of his claims upon the applause of the world. Dr. Ogilvie was one of the few Scotsmen of whom Dr. Johnson entertained a favorable opinion. The sanctity of the character of Ogilvie, the religious ten- dency of his writings, in some measure abated the fierce antipathy- with which the great English critic regarded the nation whose literary efforts have raised thera to so high a rank in the intellectual history of mankind. It was to Dr. Ogilvie that the unreason- able Johnson uttered the sarcasm relative to Scotch prospects. When in London, Ogilvie one day, in POETS.— JOHN OGILVIE. 147 Johnson's company, observed, in speaking of grand scenery, that Scotland had a great many wild pros- pects. " Yes, sir," said Johnson, " I believe you have a great many. Norway, too, has noble wild prospects, and Lapland is remarkable for prodigious noble wild prospects. But, sir, let me tell you, the noblest prospect which a Scotsman ever sees, is the high road that leads him to London." " I admit," rejoined Ogilvie, " that the last prospect is a very noble one ; but I deny that it is as wild as any of those we have enumerated." W. B. o 2 148 LIVES OF EMINENT SCOTSMEN. JAMES MACPHERSON. Mr. ]Macpherson, so celebrated for his share in the production of the reputed poems of Ossian, was bom at Kingussie, in the county of Inverness, in the year 1738. He was the son of a respect- able, but not affluent, fanner. After receiving the necessary elementary education, he was entered of the King's College, Aberdeen, in the session or term of 1751-52. When he had studied about two years at this university, an act was passed, adding two months to the length of its annual terras. The increased expense attending such a protracted ab- sence from their homes, induced all the poorer stu- dents to remove to the Marischal College, where the term continued of the usual duration. Of this num- ber was Macpherson. As a student, IMacpherson was not distinguished beyond his fellows, except for a love of poetical idling, in preference to abstruse study. He is blamed for diverting the attention of the younger students from their more serious pursuits, by his humorous and doggrel rhymes. In 1758, when as yet but in his twentieth year, he published a heroic poem in six cantos, called the Highlander. It presented the indications of a strong but uncultivated genius. The author himself was so POETS. — JAMES MACPHERSON. 149 little pleased with it, that he is said to have endea- voured to withdraw it from circulation ; but great ex- ertion could scarcely have been necessary to suppress what no person inquired after. It has never, it is believed, been reprinted. Macpherson bad been destined for the church, but he does not appear to have ever taken orders. For a short time, he taught a school at Ruthven, in Ba- denoch, whence he removed to be private tutor in the family of Mr. Graham, of Balgowan. In 1760, he surprised the world with the publica- tion of " Fragn/ents of Ancient Poetry, collected in the Highlands of Scotland, and translated from the Gaelic or Erse language." The avidity with which these seemingly long-neglected remains of a rude and remote period were sought after and examined, was only to be equalled by the delight which readers of taste experienced, in discovering in them a vein of poetry which would have done honour to the most polished periods of the national history. Mr. Gray, Mr. Home, Dr. Blair, and many other competent judges, were loud in their praises. As these " Frag- ments" were represented to be only specimens of a larger body of poetry, of a similar description, which was dispersed over the Highlands, it was eagerly pro- posed to Macpherson to undertake a mission, to trace out and preserve every thing else of the kind extant. Macpherson entered willingly into the scheme, and a handsome sum of money being subscribed among his friends and admirers to defray the attendant ex- penses, he gave up his situation in Mr. Graham of Balgowan 's, and set off a relic-hunting through the Highlands. o3 150 LIVES OF EMINENT SCOTSMEN. The success of his researches, as reported by him- self, exceeded all anticipation. He discovered one complete Epic poem of six bcroks, called, " Fingal ;" and another as complete of eight books, called, " Te- mora,'' both composed by " Ossian, the son of Fin- gal." A translation of the former he published in 1762, and of the latter in 1763 ; and so extensive was their sale, that he is said to have cleared by them no less than ^1,200. The authenticity of these poems was at first believ- ed by many in its fullest extent, even b}'^ men of high character in the literary world. Dr. Blair, in particular, was so persuaded of the truth of IMacpherson's state- ment, that he wrote an elaborate Dissertation to prove the antiquity, and illustrate the beauties, of the poems. There were others, however, of equal reputation for critical acumen, who could not be persuaded of the possibility of picking up complete Epics in this way, among the traditional literature of a country ; and who, besides, from the style of the poems themselves, openly pronounced them to be forgeries. Some few again, who doubted, but were willing to believe, and among these, Mr. David Hume, put the question upon a very simple issue : — Shew us the original poems, from w liich you say these translations have been made ; and tell us how they have been thus wonderfully preserved during so man}^ centuries. Nothing could have been fairer than this appeal ; but j\lr. Macpherson, from motives of which all reason- able men could form but one opinion, haughtily re- fused to give the public any satisfaction on the sub- ject. Dr. Blair, however, who felt his critical charac- ter endangered by this silence, exerted himself to pro- POETS. — JAMES MACPHERSON. 151 cure at second-hand a variety of testimonies in favour of the authenticity of the poems. He published eleven letters from gentlemen and clergymen of res- pectability in the Highlands, all tending to prove that, in 1763, there were living in the Highlands and Islands of Scotland, several persons, who either possessed an- cient Gaelic manuscripts , or could recite long passages from traditionary Gaelic poems, which agreed in their subject, and often in their composition, with those pub- lished in English by Macpherson. Still the public were not satisfied. All this was but secondary evidence, in a case where, jf the pretext set up by Macpherson were true, the most direct evidence was to be had. Where, it was again asked, are the original poems themselves ? The question continued in this unsettled state, when in 1764, JMr. Macpherson received an invitation to ac company Governor Johnston to Pensacola, as his se- cretary. Shortly after his arrival in America, however, he disagreed with his employer, and immediately re- turned home, paying a visit in his way to several of the West India Islands, and the North American Colo- nies. He now resumed his literary pursuits, and produced " An Introduction to the History of Great Britain and Scotland," a work which, he says^ " he was indu- ced to proceed in by the sole motive of private amuse- ment ;" and which, he might have added, was calculat- ed only to amuse others. As a piece of history, nothing could be less authentic or instructive ; it was a dream throughout, at variance with the best autho- rities and with the most obvious probabilities. It has accordingly long ceased to be of the least weight in his- tory, and only deserves remembrance for the elegance 152 LIVES OF EMINENT SCOTSMEN, of its stjle, and the fine fancy which pervades it. The description which he gives of the Paradise of the ancient British Nations, breathes all the fire of some of the finest passages of Ossian ; and, as it may serve at once to shew the literary character of the work, and its value as matter of history, may merit quota- tion. " The ancient inhabitants of Britain," he says, " to enjoy the felicity of a future state, ascended not into heaven with the Christians, nor dived under the ocean with the poets of Greece and Rome. Their Flath-Innis, a noble Island, lay surrounded with tempest in the western ocean. Their brethren on the continent, at an early period, placed the seats of the blessed in Britain ; but the Britons themselves, as %ve shall have occasion to shew, removed their Fortunate Island very far to the west of their country." * * * * " The Scottish bards, with their compositions in verse, conveyed to posterity some poetical romances in prose. One of those tales which tradition has brought down to our times, relates to the Paradise of the Cel- tic nations. The following extract will contribute to illustrate the detached information, which the writers of Greece and Rome have transmitted from antiquity, concerning the Fortunate Islands. " In former days, (says the bard,) there lived in Skerr, a magician of high renown. The blast of wind waited for his commands at the gate ; he rode the tempest, and the troubled wave otFered itself as a pil- low for his repose. His eye followed the sun by day, his thoughts travelled from star to star in the season of night. He thirsted after things unseen. He sighed over the narrow circle which surrounded his POETS.— JAMES MACPHERSON. 153 days. He often sat in silence beneath the sound of liis groves, and he blamed the careless billows that rolled between him and the green isle of the west. " One day, as the magician of Skerr sat thoughtful upon a rock, a storm arose from the sea : a cloud under whose squally skirts the foaming waters com- I plained, rushed suddenly into the bay, and from its } dark womb, at once issued forth a boat, with its white i sails bent to the wind, and hung round with an hun- I dred moving oars. But it was destitute of mariners ; I itself seeming to live and move. An unusual terror ' seized the aged niagician. He heard a voice, though he saw no human form. ' Arise, behold the boat of ' the heroes, — arise, and see the green isle of those who have passed away.' i " He felt strange force on his limbs, he saw no per- i son, but he moved to the boat. The wind immediate- ly changed. In the bosom of the cloud he sailed away, seven days gleamed faintly round him, seven nights added their gloom to his darkness. His ears were stunned with shrill voices. The dull murmur of winds passed him on either side. He slept not, but his eyes were not heavy ; he ate not, but he was not hungry. On the eighth day, the waves swelled into mountains, the boat was rocked violently from side to side. The darkness thickened around him, when a thousand voices at once cried out, " The Isle," " The Isle !" The billows opened wide before him, the calm land of the departed rushed in light on his eyes. " It was not a light that dazzled, but a pure, placid, and distinguishing light, which called forth every ob- ject to view in their most perfect form. The isle spread large before him, like a pleasing dream of the 154 LIVES OF EMINENT SCOTSMEN. soul ; where distance fades not on the sight ; where nearness fatigues not the eye. It had its gently slop- ing hills of green, nor did they wholly want their clouds : but the clouds were bright and transparent, and each involved in its bosom the source of a stream, a beauteous stream, which, wandering down the steep, was like the faint notes of the half-touched harp to the distant ear. The vallles were open and free to the ocean ; trees loaded with leaves, which scarcely waved to the light breeze, were scattered on the green declivities and rising grounds. The rude winds walk- ed not on the mountain, no storra took its course through the sky. Ail was calm and bright ; the pure sun of autumn shone from his blue sky on the fields. He hastened not to the west for repose, nor was he seen to rise from the east. He sits in his height, and looks obliquely on the Noble Isle. In each valley is its slow moving stream. The pure waters swell over the banks, yet abstain from the fields. The showers disturb them not, nor are they lessened by the heat of the sun. On the rising hills are the halls of the departed — the high-roofed dwellings of the he- roes of old." Thus far, says Mr. Macpherson, is the talc wor- thy of translation. Incoherent fables succeed the description, and the employments of the blessed in their Fortunate Island, differs in no respect from the amusements of the most uncultivated inhabitants of a mountainous country. The bodies with which the bard clothes his departed heroes, have more grace, and are more active, than those they left behind them in this world ; and he describes, with peculiar elegance, the beauty of the women. After a very POETS.— JAMES MACPHERSON". 155 tionsient vision of the noble isle, the magician of Skerr returned home in the same miraculous manner in which he had been carried across the ocean. But though, in his mind, he comprehended his absence in sivteen days, he found every thing changed at his re- . turn. No trace of his habitation remained ; he knew [uot the face of any man. He was even forced, says I the tale, to make inquiry concerning himself ; and tradition had scarcely carried down his name to the generation, who then possessed the island of Skerr. Two complete centuries had passed away since his departure ; so imperceptible was the flight of time in [ the felicity of thc^Celtic Paradise. I The departed, according to the tale, retained, in the midst of their happiness, a warm aff'ection for their I country and living friends. They sometimes visited t the first ; and by the latter, as the bard expresses it, ! they were transiently seen in the hour of peril, and i especially on the near approach of death. It was then, that at raid-night, the death-devoted, to use the words of the tale, were suddenly awakened by a strange knocking at their gates ; it was then that they heard the indistinct voice of their departed friends, calling them away to the noble Isle. " A sudden joy," continues the author of the tale, " rushed in upon their minds, and that pleasing melancholy which looks forward to happiness, in a distant land.'' It is worthy of being remarked, that though those who died a natural death, were not excluded from the Celtic Paradise, the more pleasant diversions of theFlath-Inn- is or the noble Isle, rendered the Celtic Nations care- less about a transitory life, which must terminate in happiness. They threw away with indifference, the 156 LIVES OF EMINENT SCOTSMEN, burden, when it galled them, and became in some measure independent of fortune in her worst extreme. They met death in the field with elevation and joy of mind ; the^' sought after him with eagerness, when op- pressed with disease, or worn out with age. To the same cause, and not to a want of docility of disposi- tion and temper, we ought to ascribe their small pro- gress in the arts of civil life, before the Phajnicians and Greeks, with their commerce, and the Romans with their arms, introduced a taste for luxury into the regions of the west and north. In 1773, Mr. Macpherson produced a translation of the Iliad of Homer, into the same sort of poetic prose as his poems of Ossian. 3Ien of taste, as ap- pears from his preface, had long solicited him to un- dertake the work ; and there were not wanting indivi- duals, who, now that it was completed, pronounced it to be one of the first productions of the age. " The pomp and magnificence of his diction," we were told, " conveyed without diminution the dignity of his au- thor, and the smoothness of his periods placed the power and elegance of the English language in a more favorable point of view than it had hitherto appeared in." It is certain, however, that such was not the opinion cither of the mass of good judges, or of the public at large ; from the former of whom it met only witli ridicule, for the bad taste in which it was con- ceived ; and from the latter, witli the neglect which is due to presumptuous competition. The dispute, as to the authenticity of Macpherson's Poems of Ossian, which had, in the mean time, been suftered to die away, while the poems themselves con- tinued to rise in popularity, was now revived with greater POETS. — JAMES MACPHERSON. 157 icrimony than ever by Dr. Johnson. In the course of the tour which Dr. Johnson made, in company with JMr Boswell, to the Hebrides, he made various in- quiries concerning the traditionary poems said to exist among the Highlanders ; but the information he ob- tained only tended to confirm the pre-conceived no- tions of Johnson, who, always prejudiced against Scotsmen and Scottish literature, had condemned Macpherson, almost without examination, as a literary impostor. In his Narrative of the Tour, speaking of these poems, he says, " I believe they never existed in any other form than that which we have seen. The editor or author never could shew the original ; nor can it be shewn by any other. To revenge reasonable incredulity, by refusing evidence, is a degree of inso- lence with which the world is not yet acquainted, and stubborn audacity is the last refuge of guilt. It would be easy to shew it, if he had it ; but whence could it be had ? It is too long to be remembered, and the lan- guage had formerly nothing written. He has doubt- less inserted names that circulate in popular stories, and may have translated some wandering ballads, if any can be found • and the names and some of the images being recollected, make an inaccurate auditor imagine, by the help of Caledonian bigotry, that he has formerly heard the whole." Again : " I have yet supposed no imposture but in the publisher ; yet I am far from certain that some translations have not been lately made, that may now be obtruded as parts of the original work. Credulity, on one part, is a strong temptation to deceit on the other, especially to deceit of which no personal injury is the consequence, and which flatters the author with his own ingenuity. The TAUT 3.] p 158 LIVES OF EMINENT SCOTSMEN. Scots have something to plead for their easy reception of an improbable fiction : they are seduced by their fondness for their supposed ancestors. A Scotchman must be a sturdy moralist, who does not love Scotland better than truth : he will always love it belter than inquiry ; and if falsehood flatters his vanity, will not be very diligent to detect it. Neither ought the Eng- lish to be much influenced by Scotch authority ; for of the past and present state of the whole Erse natioD> the Lowlanders are at least as ignorant as ourselves. To be ignorant is painful, but it is dangerous to quiet our uneasiness by the delusive opiate of hasty persua- sion." These observations, which, it must be allowed, Macpherson had amply provoked, by his contempt of the " reasonable incredulity" entertained by the public, and which, with all their severity, mingled no small degree of truth, gave so much off'enceto Macpherson, that he wrote a letter to Dr. Johnson, threatening him with personal chastisement. This absurd proceeding produced from Dr. Johnson the following severe an- swer : " Mr. James Macpherson, " I received your foolish and impudent letter. Any violence offered to me I shall do my best to repel ; and what I cannot do for myself, the law shall do for me. I hope I shall never be deterred from detecting what I think a cheat, by the menaces of a ruffian. " What would you have me retract ? 1 thought your book an imposture ; I think it an imposture still. For this opinion I have given my reasons to the public, whicli I here dare you to refute. Your rage I defy. Your abilities, since your Homer, are not so formida- POETS.— JAMES MACPHERSON. 159 ble ; and what I hear of your morals, inclines me to pay regard, not to what you shall say, but to what you shall prove. You may print this if you will. S. J." Macpherson was recalled to reason by this manly defiance. He made no attempt to carry his threats into execution ; nor does he appear to have taken any further notice of Johnson, if we except some embel- lishments, which he is said to have furnished to the answer to the Tour to the Hebrides, which appeared in 1779 from the pen of Mr. Macnicol. It appears that the manuscript of this answer was sent to Mac- pherson at London for publication ; and Macnicol used to say, that most of the scurrilous passages, in which the answer abounds, were interpolated after it went into Macpherson's hands. Mr. Macpherson now directed his attention to the composition of a " History of Great Britain, from the Restoration to the Accession of the House of Hanover," which he produced in 1775, in two vols. 4to. In the course of this work, he found it necessary to give quite a new complexion to many important transactions of this period, and to the characters of most of the emi- nent men concerned in them ; but aware how much the apocryphal character of his pen must have indis- posed the public to credit any more of his discoveries, he took the prudent step of publishing, at the same time, the proofs upon which he had proceeded, in two quarto volumes, under the title of " Original Papers, containing the Secret History of Great Britain, from the Restoration to the Accession of the House of Ha- nover ; to which are prefixed, Extracts from the Life 160 LIVES OF EMINENT SCOTSMEN. of James II., as written by himself." These papers were chiefly collected by 3Ir. Carte. This history had one great fault, if it may so be called, with which no person expected to have been able to reproach the author of " the Introduction'' — it was too true. It deprived the history of our glo- rious revolution of much of that lustre and beauty in which it had stood hitherto arrayed; and proved, that in that, as in all great turns of national aftairs, much of base selfishness and intrigue were combined with genuine patriotism and benevolence. The Whigs, whose credit as a party is so mixed up with the events of the revolution, were much irritated at the light thus thrown on its sacred history, and observed no bounds in their censure of the author. The volumes of " Original Papers," however, formed such a panoply of evidence, as all their vituperation could not demolish ; nor were the world unaraused to observe, that the same individual who had before professed such disdain of original documents now triumphed on the strength of them. Were they to blame for again concluding, that had it been in tht- power of Mr. ^Macpherson to produce the original poems from which he had professed to make hi- translations, he would have done so ? The political tact displayed in this history appears to have recommended Mr. Macpherson to the notice of Government, by whom he was employed to com- bat, the arguments of the revolted Americans for In- dependence. He wrote a pamphlet for this purpose, which was published in 1776, and circulated with much industry, intituled, " The Rights of Great Britain asserted against the claims of the Colonies, being an answer to the Declaration of the General POETS.- JAMES MACPHERSON. 161 Congress." Under the same auspices he also com- posed " A short History of the Opposition during the last Session of Parliament, 1779," which attracted a good deal of notice, and was, on account of the splendid elegance of its style, very generally ascribed to Mr. Gibbon. As a reward for these services, INIr. Macpherson was appointed agent for the Nabob of Arcot, and in this capacity exerted his talents in several appeals to the public, in behalf of that unfortunate prince. — Among other productions, he wrote the " Letters from Mohammed Ah Chan, Nabob of Arcot, to the Court of Directors ; tt) which is annexed, a state of Facts relative to Tanjore, with an appendix of Original Papers," published in 1777 ; and he is generally sup- posed to have been the author of a fragment of a work which appeared in 1779, under the title of " The History and Management of the East India Company, from its origin in 1660, to the present times : vol. 1 , containing the aflfairs of the Carnatic ; in which the rights of the Nabob are explained, and the injustice of the Company proved." In 1780, Mr. Macpherson who was now, by his own genius and industry, in very opulent circum- stances, and had acquired a name of considerable weight in the political world, was brought into Par- liament for the borough of Camelford. He was re- elected for the same place in 1784 and 1790 ; but it does not appear that, during the whole of his Parlia- mentary career, he ever was a speaker. It had always been the secret wish of Macpherson's heart, to return and enjoy the otium cum dignitate on his native soil, and in 1789 an opportunity occurred p 3 162 LIVES OF EMINENT SCOTSMEN, of gratifying this national and peculiarly Scottish feeling, in its fullest extent. The estate of E.etz, situated in the parish in which he was bom, was for sale : he became the purchaser ; changed the name from Retz to Belville, and having erected upon it a splendid mansion, commanding a very romantic and picturesque view, retired thither to spend the re- mainder of his days. Mr. Macpherson was now unhappily, however, in a very declining state of health, and did not long en- joy the pleasure of this dignified retirement. He died at Belville, on the 17th February, 1796. Mrs. Grant, in her Letters from the Mountains, gives the following interesting particulars of his death. " Finding some inward symptoms of his approaching dissolution, he sent for a consultation, the result of which arrived the day after his confinement. He was perfectly sen- sible and collected, yet refused to take any thing pre- scribed to him to the last ; and that on this principle, that his time was come, and it did not avail. He felt the approaches of death, and hoped no relief from medicine, though his life was not such as one should like to look back on, at that awful period : indeed, whose is ? It pleased the Almighty to render his last scene most affecting and exemplar^'. From the mi- imte he was confined, till a verj- little before he ex- pired, he never ceased imploring the divine mercy, in the most earnest and pathetic manner : — people about him were overawed and melted by the fervour and bitterness of his penitence : he frequently and eam- cstlj- entreated the prayers of good serious people, of the lower class, who were admitted. He was a very good natured man, and now that he had got all his POETS JAMES MACPHERSON. 163 schemes of interest and ambition fulfilled, he seemed to reflect and grow domestic ; and shewed, of late, a great inclination to be an indulgent landlord, and very liberal to the poor, of which 1 could relate various in- stances, more tender and interesting than flashy or ostentatious. His heart and temper were originally good : his religious principles were, I fear, unfixed and fluctuating ; but the primary cause that so much ge- nius, taste, benevolence, and prosperity, did not pro- duce or diff"use more happiness, was his living a stranger to thd comforts of domestic life, from which unhappy connexions excluded him." By his will, dated in June, 1793, after distributing among his relatives and friends property to a large amount, he bequeathed ^'1000 to Mr. John Mac- kenzie, of Fig-tree-court in the Temple, to defray the expense oi printing and publishing Ossian in the origi- nal ; directed ^fSOO to be laid out in erecting a mo- nument to his memory, in some conspicuous situation at Belville ; and ordered that his body should be carried from Scotland, and interred in Westminster Abbey. His remains were, accordingly, brought from the place where he died, and interred in Poet's- corner. Immediately after Macpherson's decease, the High- land Society of Scotland, with the view of bringing to a termination, if possible, the still undecided con- troversy, as to the authenticity of the poems as- cribed by him to Ossian, appointed a Committee of their number, to institute a regular inquiry into the subject. In the time of nominating this committee, the so- ciety were peculiady fortunate. Dr. Blair, Professor 164 LIVES OF EMINENT SCOTSMEN. Ferguson, Dr. Carlyle, and Mr. John Home, the prin- cipal advisers and promoters of the original publication of Macpherson, and many other gentlemen of respec- tability who had been intimately acquainted with Macpherson, and had either assisted him in his re- searches, or witnessed the prosecution of his underta- king, were then living ; and the immediate descendant of the last of the Caledonian bards remained to give his testimony as to the manner in which Macpherson had become possessed of an antient Gaelic manuscript, which was said to have supplied him with great part of his materials. While the committee were proceeding with their labours, a powerful antagonist of the antiquity of the poems started up in the person of Mr. Malcolm Laing, who, at the end of his History of Scotland, published in 1800, gave an elaborate dissertation on their merits. He contended, that the works published by Macpherson contained several false and incorrect allusions to the History of Britain during its subjec- tion to the Romans ; that the manners of the High- landers, as described in these poems, differ exceed- ingly from those which are represented by historians who treat of the same period, and in particular, that the manners depicted in Ossian are much more refined than those which appeared in the Highlands at a period considerably later ; that these compositions betray many palpable imitations of the Greek and Roman classics, of the Scriptures, and of other writings, and, therefore, could not have been produced by Ossian, who must have been unacquainted with these sources ; that all the traditionary poems hitherto dis- covered in the Highlands refer to the middle ages. POETS JAMES MACPHERSON. 165 comprehending the ninth and tenth centuries ; that : no Gaelic manuscript, as yet found, is older than the fifteenth century ; that the poems ascribed to Ossian nearly resemble, in their style and modes of expression, ' the Highlander, formerly published by Macpherson ' as his own composition, and that it is more than pro- 1 bable, that the Erse manuscripts produced by Mac- pherson were translations of his own pieces from the I English, &c. The objections of Mr. Laing met with two zealous respondents in Mr. Archibald M'Donald of Liverpool and the Rev. Dr. Graham of Aberfoyle, the former of whom published " some of Ossian's lesser poems ren- dered into verse, with a Preliminary Discourse, in answer to Mr. Laing's Critical and Historical Disser- tation on the Antiquity of Ossian's Poems ;'' and the latter "An Essay on the Authenticity of the Poems of Ossian, in which the objections of Malcolm Laing, Esq. are particularly considered and refuted ; to which is added. An Essay on the Mythology of Ossian's Poems, by Professor Richardson of Glasgow College." The public judgement, however, still remained sus- pended until, in 1810, the Report of the Committee of the Highland Society made its appearance. It ■was drawn up by Mr. Mackenzie, the chairman of the committee, and was well calculated to reconcile even the most opposing opinions on the subject. After detailing the course of inquiry which the committee had pursued, and referring to a copious appendix of documents, they thus state what they conceive and what posterity will probably agree with them in con- sidering to have been the real state of the case. 166 LIVES OF EMINENT SCOTSMEN. "The committee can, with confidence, state its opinion that such poetry did exist; that it was com- mon, general, and in great abundance ; that it was uf a most impressive and striking sort ; in a high degree eloquent, tender, and sublime. The committee is pos- sesssed of no documents to shew how much of his col- lection Mr. M. obtained in the form of what he has given to the world. The poems and fragments which the committee has been able to preserve, contain often the substance, and sometimes almost the literal ex- pression, the ipsissima verba, of passages given by Mr. Macpherson in the poems of which he has published translations, but the committee has not been able to obtain any one poem, the same in title and tenor with the poems published by him. It is inclined to believe that he was in use to supply chasms, and to give con- nection by inserting passages which he did not find, and to add what he conceived to be dignity and de- licacy to the original composition, by striking out pas- sages, by softening incidents, by refining the lan- guage ; in short, by changing what he considered as too simple or too rude for a modern ear, and ele- vating what in his opinion was below the standard of good poetry. To what degree, however, he exercised those liberties, it is impossible for the committee to determine. The advantages he possessed, which the committee began its inquiries too late to enjoy, of c 1- lating from the oral recitation of a number of persons, now no more, a very great number of the same poems on the same subjects, and collating those difler- ent copies or editions, if they may be so called, re- jecting what was spurious or corrupted in one copy, and adopting from another, something more genuine POETS.— JAMES MACPHERSON. 1C7 and excellent in its place, afforded him an opportunity of putting together what might fairly enough be cal- led an original whole ; of much more beauty and with much fewer blemishes than the committee be- lieves it now possible for any person or combination of persons to obtain." It will be obsers'ed, that the committee say, that they have " not been able to obtain any one poein the same in title and tenor icith the poems published ;" and this, notwithstanding the originals left by Mr. Macpher- son for publication. The fact is, that the latter had no character of authenticity, and that they fully justi- fied the suspicion so long entertained by the public, that I\Ir. Macpherson was all but the sole author of the poems which he ascribed to Ossian. Agreeably to the will of Mr. Macpherson, these pretended ori- ginals were published in a very splendid form, ac- companied by two dissertations, one by Sir John Sin- clair, and the other by Dr. Macarthur, besides a translation by the latter of an Italian dissertation on the Ossianic Controversy, written by the Abbe Ce- sarotti, who had translated the poems of Ossian into Italian ; but both Editors appear to have fallen into a mistake as to the object which was to be ser\'ed by the publication. They have laboured hard to keep up the old fiction that Macpherson was a mere trans- lator ; whereas JMacpherson's own design in directing this publication, was doubtless to put an end to this fiction ; and to inform posterity to whom their gra- titude is truly due for the poems of Ossian. Macpherson's character, it is true, loses something in point of moral rectitude and sincerity by this re- 168 LIVES OF EMINENT SCOTSMEN. suit; but it gains in originality of genius, what will an age hence make his obstinacy of pretence as a trans- lator forgotten. J. E. POETS.— CHARLES SALMON. 169 CHARLES SALMON. Charles Salmon is a name, which may he pro- nounced in many a poetic circle without exciting a single recollection ; yet it was the name of one whom Ferguson not ^only loved as a friend, but owned as no unworthy rival, in his court to the Muses. Like Ferguson, he was early lost to the world ; but, less happy in his poetical fortunes, the memorials which he left of his genius have, with a few exceptions, been either lost through the casualties of private possession, or remain dispersed and neglected among some of the many fleeting repositories to which the effusions of youthful genius are so often irrecoverably con- signed. The particulars, which the writer of the present imperfect attempt at some notice of Salmon's life, is able to communicate respecting him, are few, but interesting. They were communicated to him by one who knew Salmon well, and esteemed because he knew him. Charles Salmon was a native of Edinburgh, and is supposed to have been born between the years 1745 and 1750. His parents filled some inferior employment about the theatre, during the manage- ment of Mr. Digges ; but though in humble circum- stances, they appear to have given their son a good PART 3.] Q 170 LIVES OF EMINENT SCOTSMEN, education. He evinced always a superior taste in composition, and was fond of quoting rhetorical rules. He was bred to the business of a printer, in the house of the celebrated Walter Ruddiman ; and in Ruddi- man's Weekly Magazine, he made his first juvenile attempts in rhyme, unknown, it is believed, to his employer. A love of social pleasures and of poetry, go too commonly together. Salmon became, at an early age, the boon companion of most of the fine spirits of his o%vn rank in life, and of a rank a little above it in Edinburgh, and few were the clubs of good fel- lows, of which he was not a member. He sung an excellent song, and yielded to few in conversational talent, delighting his associates by his vivacity, good humour, and occasional fits of ardent enthusiasm. Among the most valued friends he acquired, was Ro- bert Ferguson the poet. He inherited from his parents a strong attachment to the cause of the Pretender, whose name, indeed, he shared with a brother, called Stewart Salmon ; and this devotion to a hopeless cause gave an air of romance to his character, which did not lessen the interest it inspired. A club still subsisted in Edinburgh, called the Royal Oak Club, composed wholly of professed Jacobites, and of this society Salmon became poet-laureate. In this capa- city-, he composed a song, called " The Royal Oak Tree," which became a standard favorite with the club, and was sung on all their great occasions. The following copy of the words is taken from an obscure collection of Jacobite songs, published by Robert- son, of the Horse Wynd, Edinburgh ; in which, how- ever, it appears without the name of the author. POETS.— CHARLES SALMON. 171 THE ROYAL OAK TREE. Tune. — The Mulberry Tree. Ye true sons of Scotia, together unite. And yield all your senses to joy and delight; Give mirth its full scope, that the nations may see We honour our standard, the great royal tree. All shall yield to the Royal Oak Tree ; Bend to thee, Majestic Tree, Cheerful was he who sat in thee, And thou, like him, thrice honoured shall be. When our great sov'reign, Charles, was driv'n from his throne. And dar'd scarce call the kingdom or subjects his own, Old Pendril, the miller, at the risk of his blood, Hid the King of our Isle, in the King of the Wood. All shall yield, S^c. In summer, in winter, in peace, or in war, 'Tis acknowledged, with freedom, by each British tar. That the oak of all ships can best skreen us from harm ; Best keep out the foe, and best ride out the storm. All shall yield, 8)C. Let gard'ners and florists of foreign plants boast. And cull the poor trifles of each distant coast ; There's none of them all, from a shrub to a tree, Can ever compare, great Oak Royal, with thee. All shall yield, Sec. Salmon is also supposed to have written, about q2 172 LIVES OF EMINENT SCOTSMEN. this time, a song, which he was fond of singing, be- ginning, On a bank of flowers, on a summer's day, Where lads and lasses met ; On the meadow green, each maiden gay. Was bj- her true lore set : Dick fill'd his glass, drank to liis lass, And Charles's health around did pass. Huzza they cry'd, and a' reply'd, " The Lord restore our king." Salmon, at last, found himself immersed in a course of life to which the finances of a journeyman printer were wholh' unequal ; and in conjunction with ]Mr. George Fulton, another journeyman printer, (after- wards distinguished as a teacher in Edinburgh,) he came to the prudent resolution of quitting Edinburgh. A printing concern had been commenced by a Mr. Jackson, at Dumfries, the first of the kind established in that place, and thither Salmon and Fulton bent their steps, in the hopes of obtaining employment. In this they were not disappointed ; they were both immediately engaged. For Salmon, this change was productive of none of its anticipated good. He had neither the disposition nor the fortitude to resist the fascinations of society, and his poetic and convivial talents soon made his ac- quaintance as much cultivated in Dumfries, as it had been in Edinburgh. He found that he had only changed a large circle of dissipation for a smaller, in which the syren pleasure held him more closely within her grasp. The society in which he here mix- ed was of a better description, in point of rank, tha'ii POETS.— CHARLES SALMON. 173 that of Edinburgh, but in other respects it was a great deal worse. Habits of drinking and idling prevailed at this period among the young men of Dumfries, to an extent unequalled perhaps in any other town in Scotland. The narrowness of Salmon's finances com- pelled him to partake with some reserve in their liba- tions ; yet occasions would occur, when, abandoning himself to the impulse of the moment, he would vie with them in their worst excesses. Among the friends whom he had left at Edinburgh, there was none his separation from whom he more re- gretted than Robert Ferguson ; and it would seem that the regard had been mutual. Salmon had not been long at Dumfries when he was surprised one af- ternoon by the sight of his old friend bursting in upon him, attired in a light walking dress, and covered all over with dust. Ferguson had walked all the way from Edinburgh to see him. At the suggestion of some of the more prudent of his gay companions, Salmon issued proposals for pub- lishing a collection of his poetical effusions, under the modest title of, " Poems by a Printer." From the misfortunes which afterwards befel him, this collection never saw the light ; but there is reason to believe that he had accumulated a sufficient number of poems to have formed a very respectable volume. Several of them had appeared in Ruddiman's IMagazine and in the Dumfries Weekly Magazine, established by Mr. Jackson, on a similar plan, and may perhaps still be traced. The friend, to whom the writer of this me- moir is indebted for such information as it contains of Salmon, remembers to have heard him recite two imitations, or rather parodies, of the Deserted Village 174 LIVES OF EMINENT SCOTSMEN, and Splendid Shilling, as parts of his intended publi- cation. The subject of the former was " Auld Reikie," and of the latter, " The Threadbare Coat." There ^vere also a variety of occasional pieces, addressed to the friends with whom he associated, including some names which would have vouched for the regard in which, though poor and humble, Charlie Salmon was held by individuals of the first respectability. Whatever prospects of poetical renown Salmon may have formed, one night of fatal dissipation came and destroyed them all. In a fit of intoxication, he fell into the company of a recruiting serjeant, and the same friend who had last seen him with a white cockade in a paper cap, working a press to the song of " The crown is Charlie's right, is it no ? is it no ?" saw him next morning enlisted under the black cockade, or, as Salmon was wont with other Jacobites to call it, the curse of God. Poor Salmon ! When asked by one of his friends how he could have been so misled, he an- swered, with a smile at his own simplicity, " I listed for a lieutenant." The regiment in which he had enlisted was the Sea- forth Highlanders, and without waiting to excite what he dreaded more than the bitterest reproach, the com- miseration of pretended friends, he hastened to join it. In the memorable mutiny which some time afterwards broke out in this regiment at Edinburgh, when they seized possession of Arthur's Seat, and set the power of government at defiance, Salmonis said to been called upon, in consequence of his knowledge of English and superior address, to take the management for his comrades of the negociation which ensued for their return to duty. The regiment was ultiraatelj' embarked POETS.— CHARLES SALMON. 175 for India, and Salmon was heard of no more. Of the merits of a writer of whose works we know so little, it would be rash to form any conclusive judgement. The pieces which have happened to sur- vive the general fate of his productions, may perhaps be those which were least entitled to have any in- fluence on the decision. He appears to have been rather a writer who promised much, than who had realized much. The elegy which is subjoined, and wliich is the best of his productions that can be traced in Ruddiman's Magazine, shews a fine tone of feel- ing, but abounds in puerilities and imitations. An Elegy, written in the Abbey Church, Edinburgh. Fled from the mansions of the great and gay. Where idle pleasure wastes her fleeting breath, Thro' this sad cell I'll take my lonely way. And view the havock made by time and death. 2. And, as I enter, let no swelling rage. No thoughts impure, my pensive bosom load. But sweet religion all the man engage : For this was once the sacred house of God. Where oft Devotion, with her pious train. In silent contemplation spent her days. Or wak'd to extacy the glowing strain. With grateful accents, to her Maker's praise. 176 LIVES OF EMINENT SCOTSMEN. No more shall youth and beauty grace this shrine. Or pious sages to the portals throng ; No more the arch shall meet the voice divine. Receive the sound, or echo back the song. The pride and glory of our country's fled, The great supporters of the nation's laws, The statesmen, heroes, and the kings are dead, Who fought thro' fields of blood in freedom's cause. Vast heaps of kindred here bestrew the ground, And skulls and coffins to my view arise ; Here's friend and foe profusely scatter'd round, And here a jaw, and there a thigh-bone, lies. 7. Perhaps this hand has, in some bloody fray. With lusty sinews grasp'd the flaming brand, Fought thro' the dreadful carnage of the day. And drove Oppression from its native land. Yet fame and honour are but empty things, The fleeting sunshine of uncertain day ; For statesmen, peasants, beggars, lords, and kings. All fall alike to cruel Time a prey. POETS.— CHARLES SALMON. 177 9. Tho' men, mere men, may unregarded rot. And buried in their native dust consume. Shall Scotland's great commander be forgot. And moulder, unregretted, iu the tomb? 10. Will no kind bard in grateful numbers sing The mighty wonders of each hero's arm ? Will no kind friend protect a clay-cold king. Collect his bones, and keep them safe from harm ? 11. Would some sweet muse assist me in the song, I'd dwell with rapture on the glowing strain. Roll the smooth tide of harmony along. Till echo undulate applause again.' 12. When night's dark curtain hid the beams of da}'^ From these sad eyes, m}^ soul should banish sleep ; Again I'd raise the sympathetic lay. And teach the sullen monument to weep. 13. Ye sons of Scotland ! tho' you cannot raise Your long-lost monarch from the silent bier. Their deeds are worthy of the highest praise, And simple gratitude demands a tear. 178 LIVES OF EMINENT SCOTSMEN. 14. For you they bore the faulchion and the shield, For you each piercing winter blast they stood. For you they struggled in the hostile field. For you they wither'd in their crimson blood. 15. Let no base slander on their mern'ry fall. Nor malice of their little faults complain ; They were such men, as, take them all in all, We shall not look upon their like again, 16. Here lies the partner of the hero's bed, Whose every feature wore unequall'd grace : Can Love's soft murmurs raise this death-struck head. Or take the pale complexion from the face ? 17. Go then, ye fair ! exert your utmost skill. Employ each art to keep your beauty fast ; Try each perfume, use paint, do what you will. Of this sad colour you must be at last. 18. Ah, me ! how melancholy seem these walls. To earth returning with a quick decay ! Take heed, O Man ! for, as each atom falls. So wastes thy little spark of life away. POETS.— CHARLES SALMON. 179 19. O thou, my soul, from worldly vices fly. And follow Innocence where'er she strays ; See with what ease an honest man can die, None but the wicked wish for length of days. Solus. Edinburgh, May 25, 1771. MAURICE, PRINTER, FENCHURCH-S IREKT. PUBLISHED ^iDV.Llfl31 By XBOY3 7 LUDGAXE-niLL WTPRViT^} " CONTENTS OF PART IV. ]MGfc:. Alexander Hume 1 John Bellenden 1^ Mark Alexander Boyd 26 William V/ilkie o7 Robert Fergusson 58 William Julius Mickle 96 Alexander Geddes 128 James Grah ame lt)5 1. • 3. . 5. . PORTRAITS IN PART IV. . William Julius Mickle. .- Mark Alexander Boyd. . Alexander Geddes. . Robert Fergusso.v. . James Graiiame. Vignette .... Linlithgow Castle. LIVES OF EiMINENT SCOTSMEN. ALEXANDER HUME. The Reformation in religion, though favorable to the general developement of the national intellect, was extremely inauspicious to the Scottish muse. The Roman Catholic clergy, with the systematic design of averting enquiry into their doctrines or practices, had given peculiar encouragement to every sort of mental exercise, which, by occupying the imagina- tions of the people, might exclude the calmer work- ings of reason and reflection. They patronized plays and masques ; they recommended the reading of romances in preference to all other works ; and even within those walls, sacred to devotion, were not ashamed to manifest a fonder acquaintance with the Tales of Arthur and his Knights of the Round Table, than with the works of that Divine Master, whose PART 4.] B 2 LIVES OF EMINENT SCOTSMEN, mission of salvation it was their duty to promulgate. Barclay, in his Ship of Fools, has thus distinctly marked out these ungodly practices to reprobation. The battayles done, perchauace in small Britayne, In France or Flanders, or to the worlde's ende. Are told in the quere, of some, in wordes vayne. In midst of matins, instead of tlie Legende ; And other gladly to hear the same intende, Much rather than the service for to heare ; The Rector Chori is made the messenger — And in the morning, when they come to the quere. The one beginneth a fable or a histcrie ; The other leaneth their eares it to heare, Taking it instead of the invitorie ; Some other taketh response in time and memory ; And all of fables or jestes of Robinhood, Or other trifles that scantly are so good ! In the same spirit, we find Hoccleve, an author of the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries, who although no priest, was a candidate f^r the honors of the priest- hood,* deliberately advising Sir John Oldcastle to desist from the study of " holy writ," and peruse Lancelot de Lake, Vegece or the Siege of Troie on Thebes ; or, if he be absolutely determined to read the Bible, to confine his .studies to Judicvm * '•' He whilom thought to have been a priest, but now is married, having long waited for a benefice." Particulars of his history, as collected from his poems, in Art. Hoccleve. — Chalmer$' Bios. Diet. POETS. — ALEXANDER HUME. 3 Regum, Josue, Judith, Paralipomena, and Machabe, " than which," he adds, " ]\Iore authentic shalt thou fynde none Ne more pertinent to chivalrie." Works of romance being thus fostered by the clergy, and highJy suited besides to the habits of a rude and martial age, took naturally a strong hold on the minds of the people, and formed their chief sources of mental recreation for several ages. The Reformation, which broke down so many old preju- dices, did not, ^however, spare this among the num- ber. As Mahomet began his mission by proscribing the Persian romances, which were, previously, the delight of the Arabian tribes, so the Reformers, both of Scotland and England, distinguished the com- mencement of their religious warfare, by an instant proscription of the whole race of fabulous heroes and ideal personages, whose exploits it was the chief pro- vince of the antient ballads and songs to hand down to posterity. Both elrich elfs, and brownies stayed. And green-gowu'd fairies daunc'd and play'd, When old John Knox and other some Began to plott the bags of Rome ; They suddenly took to their heels, And did no more frequent these fields. Cleland.* L. Ramse^^ in his " Practice of the Divill," gives the foremost place to the reading of the stories of * " Cieland, Lieutenant Colonel of the Camero- 4 LIVES OF EMINENT SCOTSMEN. " Robinhood and Guy," and " Bevis of Southampto7i." In like manner, Vaughan, in his Church Militant, exclaims : Unhappy are those scribes who catch no soules For Christ, if so they may, by holy scroules ; And much to blame are those of carnal brood, AVho loath to taste of intellectual food. Yet surfeit on old tales of Robin Hood, Of Frier's cowles, or of Saint Benet's hood. Of Patrik's broiles, or of St. George's launce, Of Errant knights, or of the Fairy daunce ; But yee, who are bom of intellectual seed. Scorn your best part with honey'd gall to feed. Among the devices to which the reformed clergy had recourse, to counteract the popular attachment to their old ballads and songs, the first and least in- genuous was that of changing the application of them from carnal to spiritual matters, by means of various adroit substitutions and interpolations. In 1597, there appeared, at Edinburgh, " A Compen- dious Book of Godlie and Spiritual Sangis and Bal- latis," (generally attributed to an unknowTi author of the name of Wedderburn,) the whole of which are nian regiment, who fell in the battle of Dunkeld, com- posed a long satirical poem " on the Highland host ■who came to destro^'^ the western shires in 1678," which is more angry than witty ; and, like the other poems of that author, published in 1697, equally defective in versification and poetical talent." Leyden. POETS.— ALEXANDER HUME. D merely pious travesties of the profane ballads and songs then most in vogue. The impression which the reading of them produces is like tiiat derived from all serious distortions, less amusing than painful. In the following specimens, the words in italics dis- tinguish the " godly and spiritual" deviations from the profane texts. I. With huntis up, with huntis up, It is now perfite day ; Jesus ow king is gane an hunting, Quha likes to speed they may. II. The windblawis cauld ; furious and bald. This lang and mony a day ; But Christ's mercie, we man all die, Or keep the cald wind away. III. Hey 1 now the day dawis ; Now Christ on us cawis, Now welth on our wawis Appeiris none. Now the word of God rings, Whilk is king of all kings. Now Christis flock sings. The nicht is neere gone. IV. Tell me now and in what wise. How that I suld my lufe forga, Baith day and night, ane thousand sighs Thir tyrans waikens me with wae. b3 6 LIVES OF EMINENT SCOTSMEN. The honor of attempting a purer mode of correct- ing the popular taste is due to Alexander Hume, mi- nister of Logic, who deser%-es, for what he has done in this respect, to assume a high station among the poets of his country. Mr. Hume was the second son of Patrick, fifth baron of Polwarth, from whom the present family of Marchmont is lineally descend- ed. He was originall}^ destined for the bar, and, according to the custom of that period, pursued the study of the law, for several years, at one of the uni- versities in France. His professional progress, after his return to Scotland, is thus related by himself, in an " Epistle to Maister Gilbert Montcrief, Mediciner to the King's Majestie, wherein is set down the Inex- perience of the Author's Youth." Quhenthat I had employ 'd my youth and paine Four years in France, and was retum'd againe, I lang'd to learn and curious was to knaw The consuetudes, the custome, and the law, Quhairby our native soil was guide aright. And justice done to everie kind of wight. To that effect, three yeares, or near that space, I haunted maist our highest pleading place. And senate, quhair great causes reason'd war. My breast was bruisit with leaning on the bar ; My buttons brist, I partly spitted blood. My ears war deif d with maissars cryes and din, Qukilk procutoris and parties callit in. 1 daily learnit, but could not pleisit be ; I saw sic things as pitie was to see, Ane house owerlaid with process sa misguidit, That sum too late, sum never war decydit : POETS. — ALEXANDER HUME. 7 The pair abusit ane hundredth divers wayes ; Postpon'd, difFer'd with shifts and mere delayes, Consumit in gudes, ourset with greif and paine ; Your advocate maun be refresht with gaine, Or else he fails to speake or to invent Ane gude defence or weightie argument. Ye " spill your cause," ye " trouble him too sair," Unless his hand anointed be with mair. Disgusted with the bar, Mr. Hume sought prefer- ment at court, but met with no success. ■ to the court I shortly me addrest. Believing well to chuse it for the best ; But from the rocks of Cyclades, from hand 1 struck into Charybdis' sinking sand. He afterwards candidly confesses : I little gain deserved, and less I gat. Some matrimonial speculation appears to have next crossed his wayward fancy. True Damon's part to play, I would me bind. But Pytliia as kind, yet I could never find. He, at last, resolved to seek in the bosom of the church for that comfort which he had wasted his youth in pursuing elsewhere ; and, entering into or- ders, was appointed rector or minister of Logie in Fifeshire, the names of ecclesiastical offices then floating between prelacy and presbytery. Mr. Hume appears to have determined on this 8 LIVES OF EMINENT SCOTSMEN. change of life, less from worldly motives, than from an awakened sense of the importance of religious truth, and a conviction of the superiority of the gos- pel calling over all others. He soon gave signal proof both of his zeal and his ability, by the publica- tion of that collection of poems which has procured for him a niche in the Temple of Fame. It was entitled " Hymnes or Sacred Songs ; wherein the right use of poetry may be espied ; whereunto are added, the Experience of tiie Author's Youth, and certain precepts serving to the practice of sanctifica- tion." The work was dedicated to " the faithful and vertuous Lady Elizabeth Melvil," whom he extols as a successful cultivator of sacred poetry.* In an address to the Scottish youth, which follows this dedication, the author thus piously deplores the false direction which he conceived the poetic genius of the country had hitherto taken. — " In princes' courts, in the houses of great menn, and the assem- * This lad}' is by courtesy generally styled Lady Culross. She published " Ane Godly e Dream com- pylit in Scottish meter, by M (rs) M (elvill) Gentle- woman in Culross." Edin. 1603, 4to. A subsequent edition gives her name in full, — " A Godly Dream, by Ehzabeth Melvill, Lad^^ Culros, younger. At the request of a special friend. Aberdeene, im- printed by E. Raban, Laird of Letters, 1644," 8vo. The -work was long popular among the Scottish pres- byterians. Armstrong relates, in his Essays, that he recollected having heard it sung by the peasants to a plaintive air. a. s. POETS ALEXANDER HUME. 9 bleis of yong gentlemen and 3"ong damesels, the cliief pastyrae is to sing profayne sonnets and vaine ballatis of love, or to rehears some fabulos faites of Palmerine, Araadis, or uther such lyke reveries, and suche as either have the airte or vain poeticke, of force they must shew themselves cunning follovveris of the dissolute cthnicke poets, bothe in phrase and substance, or else they sal be had in no reputaunce. Alas ! for pitie ! Is this the richt use of a Christiane's talent?" — "Sometime," he adds, " I delighted in such fantasies myself, after the manner of riotous young men ; and, had not the Lord in his mercy pulled me aback and wrought a great repentance in me, I had doubtless run forward and employed my time and study in that profane and unprofitable ex- ercise, to my own perdition." He then proceeds to reason with his readers as to the possibility of sacred history furnishing a sufficiency of suitable incidents for poetry. " Would thou entreat," he says, " of prodigious miracles ? Look the books of Genesis or Exode, or the works of our Saviour, of the prophets and apostles. Would thou have a subject of valiant deeds of arms ? Read the books of Josua and the Judges, and of the Kings of Israel and Judah. Would thou have store of wise sentences ? Read the Proverbs and Ecclesiastes. Would thou have a sub- ject of love ? Look the Song of Songs ; the love betwixt Christ and his Church. Would thou rejoice or lament — praise or dispraise— comfort or threaten — pray or use imprecation ? Imitate the old Hebrew, David, in his psalms, as a pattern of all heavenly poesy." The aim of Mr. Hume's own poems, however, is 10 LIVES OF EMINENT SCOTSMEN. not so much to exemplify the poetical use which may be made of the treasures of sacred history, as to de- monstrate a much more important proposition — namely, that a poet may gather all the materials for the most exalted poetry from the great book of nature alone, v/ithout having recourse to either history or fable, and without touching on the " naughtie subject of fleschly and unlawful love," on which he laments that poetic genius should ever be employed. It is unnecessary, at this time of day, to enter into the question, how far he was correct in this scheme of narrowing the limits of poetry, which, without love and romance, would be like beauty plucked of its roses ; but it must be allowed, that, in as far as his example tended to invite the cultivators of poetry to a more fa- miliar acquaintance with the beauties of external na- ture, as well as to a more habitual reference from " nature to nature's God," it was an effort as honor- able to the good taste as to the piety of the author. Nor was the experiment without the recommendation of a very singular degree of success. The principal of these sacred poems, entitled, by the author, " the Day Estivall," is altogether an extraordinary produc- tion for the age in which it was produced. It presents the picture of a summer's day from the dawn to the twilight ; painted with a fidelity to nature, a liveli- ness of coloring, and a tasteful selection of circum- stances, which mark the hand not only of a master, but of one worthy of being the founder of a school, w^hich was in after ages to boast of a Denham and a Thomson for its disciples. The poem opens with the following appropriate invocation to the Father of Light : POETS.— ALEXANDER HUME. 11 O pcrfite light! quhilk schaid awa^', The darkness from the light. And set a ruler ou'r the day, Ane other ou'r the night. Thy glorie, when the day forth flies, Mair 'vinely dois appear ; Nor at midday unto our eyes The shining sun is clear. The author then proceeds -^vith his description, which is divided into four parts — the dawn, morning, mid-day, and ev&iiing. The dawn is thus sweetly in- troduced : The shaddow of the earth anon Reniooves and drawes by ; Siiie in the east, when it is gon, Appeares a clearer sky. Quhilk sune perceaves the little larks. The lapwing, and the snype ; And tunes their sangs, like nature's clarks, Ou'r meadow , mure, and stryp. The description of morning presents some equally leasing passages ; the conclusion particularly invites quotation, on account of the free use which a cele- brated poet, of a later period, has made of one of the stanzas. Sa silent is the cessile air. That everie cry and call The hills and dales, and forest fair. Again repeat them all. 12 LIVES OF EMINENT SCOTSMEN. The rivers fresh, the caUor streames, Ou^r rocks can saftlie rin ; The icater cleare, like crystall seames, An' 7naks a pleamii' din. The fields and earthly superfice With verdure green is spread. And naturallie, but artifice In party colours clad. The flourishes and fragrant flowres Through Phoebus' fostering heat, Refresht with dew and silver showers, Cast up an odour sweit. The clogged busy humming bees, That never think to drown. On flowers and flourishes of trees Collect their liquor brown. No one can doubt, that Ramsay had the second of these verses before him, when he wrote of Habbie's How. Bct%veen twa birks, out o'er a little lin, The water fa's, and maks a singan din ; A pool breast-deep beneath, as clear as glass. Kisses w ith easy whirls the bord'ring grass. It is singular, that being so well acquainted with ' this poem, Ramsay did not include it in his " Ever- green." It had certainly a justcr claim to share in that title, than one half of the pieces which it in- cluded. POETS.— ALEXANDER HUME. 13 la the description of mid-day, we meet with some interesting traits of the popular habits at the period when tlie author wrote, which would seem to indicate a state of comfort, vastly superior to any thing we know of in our own times. The sun has reached its zenith, Nocht guided be na Phaeton, Nor chained in a chyre ; Bot by the high and holy one, Whilk does allwhere inspire : The labourers that timely raise. All wearie, faint, and weake. For heat, hame to their houses gaes, Noone meate and sleepe to take. The callour wine in caves is sought, JMens' brothing breists to cule. The water cald and cleare is broughte. And sallads steept in ule. Some plucks the honie plum, and peare. The cherrie and the pesche ; Some likes the reamand London beare The bodie to refresh. Wine and oil and " London Beer"* are rare things * The tradition in England is, that there was no malt liquor known by the appellation of beer, as dis- tinguished from the ancient liquor called ale, till the reign of Henry VIIL But had this been the case, PART i.] c 14 LIVES OF EMINENT SCOTSMEN, to be found among the comforts of Scottish labourers two centuries ago ; and one cannot help suspecting that the reverend author, notwithstanding his sys- tematic exclusion of fiction, must, in this instance, have slightly availed himself of the poetical preroga- tive. He probably ascribed to the people in common, luxuries which belonged only to the higher orders. The return of animation and activity with the cool of the evening is thus spiritedly delineated. Furth fairis the flocks to seek their fude On everie hill and plaine. Ilk labourer as he thinks gude Steppes to his turne againe. The rayons of the sun we see Diminish in their strength ; The schade of everie tower and tree Extended is in length. Great is the calrae, for everie quhair The wind is sitten downe, The reik thraws right up in the air. From everie tovver and towne. " London Beer" could scarcely have become an arti- cle of general use in Scotland within fifty years after, when Hume wrote. The fact is, that beer was known in England at a period much anterior to the reign of Henry the Eighth. In Rymer's Foedera, (12th tome, p. 4?1) there is mention made of a licence from Henry YII. in 1492, to a Fleming, for exporting fifty tons of ale, called " here" or " beer." a. s. POETS. — ALEXANDER HUME. 15 Their firdoning the bony birds, In banks they do begin. With pipes of reides the jolie herds Hald up the merrie din. The maveis and the philomeen. The sterling whissiles lowd. The cuschets on the branches green Full qtuetly they crowd. The twihght, or " gloamin," at length closes the scene. i The gloamin comes, the day is spent. The sun goes cut of sight, And painted is the Occident Witli purpour sanguine bright. « K * * ^ O ! then it were a seemly sight. While all is still and calme, The praise of God to play and sing With comet and with shalrae. But now the herds wi' mony schout Call other be their name, " Ga Billie, turn our good about. Now time is to gae hame." W^i' belly fu the beasts belive Are turned fra the corn, Quhilk soberly they hame ward drive, Wi' pipe and lilting horn. ***** All labourers draw hame at even, And can to other say, c 2 16 LIVES OF EMINENT SCOTSMEN. " Thanks to the Gracious God of Heaven Quhilk sent this summer day." The poem altogether is of an extremely pleasing cast. The author paints to the eye ; and with an ease which shews him to have been a fond and dili- gent observer of nature. At the same time, it is im- possible not to perceive marks of deficiency arising from the restraint which he had imposed on himself, with respect to the class of subjects, worthy of being, in his opinion, included within the " right use of poesy." As if it were only in external nature that the Aliuighty hand is to be discovered, the affections of the heart have no place in his description ; and while almost every other living being is depicted, woman alone is not once mentioned from the begin- ning to the end of the poem. How differently has Milton sung of the m()ming ! " When the ploughman near at hand Whistles o'er the furrow'd land, And the milk maid singeth blithe, And the mower whets his scythe ; And event shepherd tells his tale Under the hawthorn in the dale." Who can be insensible to the charm which the last couplet throws over the whole of this passage ? But the point will not admit of argument. A " Summer's Day'' without " a tale under the hawthorn," is just as contrary to nature, as a Winter's day without a fire, and a story by the fire-side. Still, as already observed, Hume deserves praise for setting even the limited example which he did of a POETS ALEXANDER HUME. 17 greater attention to nature tlian had before been ge- neral with our poets. His example, it is true, pro- duced no followers ; but that is to be ascribed partly to the neglect into which the Scottish tongue and Scottish poetry fell, on the removal of James the Sixth to England, and partly to the civil and religious dis- sentions which agitated the country, and " withered the laurels on the brows of her bards." In every age which generous spirits bore. The muse was cherish'd, and had strength to soar ; Disturb'd by civil tumult, she withdrew. From cities f^r, and la}^ conceal'd from view : So the bright passion flower, in sunshine days Its varied colour to the light displays ; But when the black'ning sun pours down a storm. Close folds its leaves, and hides its radiant form ; Nor can the careful florist then behold Its purple lustre, and its beams of gold. Welsted. Beside the " Hymns or Sacred Songs," Mr. Hume wrote a poem, which has never been published, on the defeat of the Spanish Armada. It is entitled, " The Triumph of the Lord after the maner of men," and delineates a triumphal procession, similar to those of the ancient Romans, in which the spoils of the con- quered enemy are exhibited in succession. The open- ing passage may suffice for a specimen. Richt as the prynce of day beginnes to spring. And larkes aloft raelodiouslie to sing. Bring furthe all kynde of instrumentis of weir To gang befoir, and raak ane noyce cleir ; c 2 18 LIVES OF EMINEM SCOTSMEN. Gar trumpetis sounJe the awful battelis blast. On dreadful drummes gar stryke alarum fast ; Mak showting sbaliues, and peircing pliipheris sliill Cleene cleave the cloods, and pierce the hiest hill, Caus niichtelie the weiilie nottis breike, Or Hieland pipes, Scottes and Hybemicke, Let heir the shraicks of deadlie clarions, And syne let off ane volie of cannons. Leyden, who had an opportunity of seeing the poem, says, that it shews considerable invention, (in combination and arrangement only it is presumed,) and that the versification is vigorous and flowing. J. H. POETS.— JOHN BELLENDEN. 19 JOHN BELLENDEN. The ascertained facts in the life of John Bellenden, the poetic and elegant translator of Boece, are few, and encumbered with conjectures. He was the son of Thomas Bellenden, of Auchinoul, who was direc- tor to the chanci^ry during the minority of James the Fifth. The time and place of his birth are unknown. He is supposed to have received his education in France ; but for no better reason than that his works are " frequently intermixed with words of Gal- lic derivation." The inference from his works ought rather to be the reverse, for it appears certain from them, that in very early life he was employed about the person of the young monarch. And fyrst occurrit to my remembring. How that I wes in service with the kyng, Pat to his grace, in yeires tenderest. Clerk of his Coraptis. Vertue and Vyce. Bellenden rose into great favor with the prince, and was rewarded by the appointments of Archdeacon of Murray and Canon of Ross ; but we learn from the same poetic authority just quoted, that he after- wards lost the employments which he held in the royal household, through the envy of some persons of greater interest. 2U LIVES OF EMINENT SCOTSMEN. hie envy me from his service cast. Be thaym that had the court in governing, As bird bot plumes is herryt of her nest. James, however, retained his personal regard for Bellenden, and so strong an impression of his literary talents, as to select him from all the learned men about his court, to execute a task which his majesty had much at heart, and which did honor to the intel- ligence and patriotism of so young a prince. The history of Scotland had been excellently written by Hector Boethius, or Boece, but it was in the Latin language, and thus a sealed book to the great mass of the Scottish people. James, who was a friend to the spread of information, though circumstances had entangled him in an opposition to the reformed reli- gion, emplo^^ed Bellenden to translate it into the Scottish tongue, the tale of our progenitours, Their greit raanheid, wisdom, and hie honours Quhair we may clear, as in a mirrour, see The furious end somtymes of tyranie ; Somtymes the gloir of prudent govemours. Ilk state apprysit in thair facultie. Vertue and T'l/ce. The translation was completed and published in 1536, in folio. Bellenden introduced into it two poems by himself, of considerable length ; the one entitled '• The Proheme of the Cosmographie," (published in the Evergreen under the title of Vertue and Vyce,) and the other, " The Proheme of the History ;" at the end, there is an " Epistil direckit be POETS.— JOHN BELLENDEN. 21 ye Translatoure to the Kingis Grace." His majest}^ pleased with the performance, next recommended to Bellenden's attention, a similar translation of Livy's Roman history ; but when he had advanced the length of the first five books, circumstances interfered to pre- vent its completion. Bellenden had shewn himself a strenuous opposer of the Reformation, and rather than remain to witness its triumphs, he left the country, and sought refuge at Rome, where he died, as Demp- ster thinks (ut puto) in 1550. Such is all that can, with certainty, be stated of Bellenden's personal history. Dempster and other writers say, that he became a doctor in his day ; and Mackenzie, with still greater liberality, confers on him the honor of knighthood ; there appears, how- ever, to be no authority for either assumption. Bel- lenden himself claims no higher title either in his translation of Boece, or the fragment of that of Livy, (the IMS. of which is preserved in the Advocates' library') than that of plain " IMaister John Ballen- den, Archdenc of Murray." The doctorship is said moreover to have been of the Sorbonne ; but the as- sertion is plaj'ed with in a manner which shews that it is of no value. One writer tells us, that on obtain- ing the archdeaconry of Moray, " he perhaps opened his passage to this dignity, by taking the degree of Doctor of Divinity in the Sorbonne 5" and another, that " as he took the degree of Doctor of Divinity in Ihe Sorbonne, it may be supposed that he had pur- sued a regular course of study in the university of Paris." The whole is evidently mere conjecture. Beside the works which have been mentioned, Bellenden is said to have written a Treatise De Litera 22 LIVES OF EMINENT SCOTSMEN. Pxithagorce, and various other productions which have fallen into oblivion. In the Hyndford MSS. in the Advocates' library there are \mo copies of an unpub- lished prolusion of Bellenden's on the Conception of Christ ; and to the MS. translation of the five books of Livy, there is prefixed a prologue of twenty stanzas.* The translation of Boece is executed with great freedom, and contains many emendations and en- largements of the original text. Hoiiinshed, who has published an English version of it, has used the same freedom with Bellenden, which the latter did with Boece, and has made several large interpolations and additions out of Major Lesley and Buchanan. Hoi- iinshed, or, at least his co-operator, Fr. Thinne, has far- ther brought down the history to a much later period. " Fr. Thinne," says the Bishop of Carlisle, " is the chief author of the whole story, after the death of King James the First, and the only penman of it from 1571 to 1586." As a writer of original genius, Bellenden's poetical productions place him in a high rank. " He was un- questionably," says Dr. Campbell, " a man of great parts, and one of the few poets his country had to boast. As many of his works remain as fully prove this, inasmuch as they are distinguished by that noble enthusiasm which is the very soul of poetry." The " Proheme of the Cosmography," or, as Allan Ramsay has not inappropriately designated it, " Ver- * The latter has been lately published, by Leyden, in a note to his Introductory Dissertation to the Com- playnt of Scotland. a. s. POETS. — JOHN BELLENDEN. 23 tue and Vyce," is the most pleasing of these pieces. It belongs to the class of allegorical visions so common to the early ages of our poetry. The author, tired with the " ardent laI?our" of translation, falls asleep, when his fancy transports him into the following pleasing scene. Methochtl was into a plesand mead, Quhair Flora made the tender bluims to spread Throw kindly dew, and humours nutritive, Quhen golden Titan with his flames sae reid Above the seas upraist his glorious heid, Defoundingi down his heit restorative To every fruit that nature made to live, Whilk was afore into the winter deid With stormis cauld, and har-frost penetrive. A silver fountain sprang with water cleir Into that place, quhair I approchit neir ; Quhair I did sone espy a fellon reird Of courtly gallants in their gayest weir. Rejoicing them in season of the zeir. As it had been of JMayis sweit day the feird. Their gudelie havings made me nocht afFeird ; With them 1 saw a crownit king appear With tender downs arising on his beird. Their courtly gallants sett, and their intents To sing and play on divers instruments ; According to this princis appetyte Twa lady is fair came pransand owre the bents, Thair costly claething shew'd their mighty rents ; Quhat heart micht wish, they w anted not a myte. The rubies shone upon their fingers quhyi ; 24 LIVES OF EMINENT SCOTSMEN. And finally I knew by thair consents This Vertue was, that uther hight Delyte. The two goddesses proceed to exert all their powers of persuasion to induce the prince, by whom the au- thor evidently intends his young sovereign, James the Fiftli, to chuse one of them " for his empress." And first Delyte said thus : ' Maist valiant knycht, in actions amorous. And lustycst that ever nature wrocht, Quha in the fl mr of 3'outh melifluous With notes sweit, and sang melodious Awaketh heir amang the flowirs soft ; Thou has nae game, but in thy mirry thocht My heavenly bliss is so delicious. All wealth in card, bot it, availeth not. This address presents so just a picture of what James was in real life, that to preserve propriety of character, " Delyte" must have been his choice ; but the author, averse to represent him as deliberately preferring De- lyte to " Vertue," especially after some excellent les- sons which he puts into Virtue's mouth, thus adroitly leaves the determination to be guessed at by the reader. Phebus be this his fyrie cart did wry Frae south to west declynand bissily. To dip his steids into the westliu main. When rysing damps ouresaild his visage dry With vapours thick, and cluddet all the sky. And NotushTym, the wind meridian With wings donk, and fedders full of rain POETS. — JOHN BELLENDEN. 25 Awakent me, that I could not espy Quhilk of the twa was for his lady tane. The plan of this episode is defective, because it falls short of what poetic justice required ; but it presents a favorable specimen of the author's powers of poesy. Considering the state of the language at the period at which he wrote, his diction is easy, his expressions rich and select, and a tone of feeling prevails, which has, indeed, much of that "noble enthusiasm" ascribed to the author by Dr. Campbell. G. M N. PART 4.] 26 LIVES OF EMINENT SCOTSMEN. MARK ALEXANDER BOYD. Mark Alexander Bo\d, an author of considerable note among the Scottish Latin poets of the sixteenth century, was the son of Robert Boyd, of Pinkill, in Ayrshire. He was born on the 13th of January, 1562, and is said to have come with teeth into tlie world. While yet a child, he lost his father, and came under the care of his uncle, James Boyd, Arch- bishop of Glasgow. As he grew up in years, he evinced a great aversion to study, and a disposition, restless, fiery, and ungovernable. Quarrelling with his preceptors, he eloped to Edinburgh, in the hope of pushing his way at court, by the force of natural talent alone ; but it was not long till he dis- covered, that fate had made no exception in his favor, from the general necessity of toiling up the steeps of fame. All that he acquired in this stage of his pro- gress, w as the blockhead reputation of having fought one duel, and been the hero of numberless broils. Still, however, averse to books, he resolved to follow the profession of arms ; and, furnished with a small stock of mone}', went over to France, with the inten- tion of entering into the service of that country. Shortly after his arrival, he lost all his money at dice ; and it would seem, that, with that, his military passion also passed away for the time. His misfortunes at the gaming table brought on a POETS.— MARK ALEXANDER BOYD. 27 fit of reflection, which gave birth to a very wise re- solution, of resuming those studies which, in his younger j-ears, he had so foolishly forsaken and de- spised. At Paris, he studied philosophy with Am- boise ; eloquence, with Passerat ; and the languages, with Geuebrand. Afterwards, he went to the uni- versity of Orleans, where Robertus initiated him into the principles of the civil law ; but in a short time, he deserted Robertus for his rival, Cujacius, of Bour- ges, the most celebrated civilian of his time. With Cujacius, Boyd contrived to get into high . favor. The old professor had an exceeding admiration for the obsolete style of Ennius, and other Roman poets of the same sera ; and Boyd, as a tribute of respect to this good taste, wrote some pieces in imitation of En- nius, which induced Cujacius to pronounce that he was formed by nature for this very species of writing • that is, formed by nature to write in a language and style which were a thousand years dead and gone. Lot us hope, that the worthy professor did not, amidst this flow of commendation, forget the means by which old Ennius was inspured to write as he did. Ermius, ipse pater, nunquam, nisi potus ad arma Prosiluit dicenda. Lib. 1. Epist. 19. Inspir'd with wine old Ennius sung, and thought With the same spirit that his heroes fought. Pitt . To a young, and certainly not a wealthy student, a bottle of the professor's Falcrnian would have been an agreeable compensation for the false direction which his praises served to give to his genius. I) 2 28 LIVES OF EMINENT SCOTSMEN. Bourges being visited by the plague, Boyd took re- fuge at Lyons, and the same calamity having followed him thither, he afterwards fied to Italy. He formed here a familiar acquaintance with one Cornelius Va- rus, a Florentine ; to whom, as he used often to de- clare, he was more indebted in his literary pursuits than to any other person in the world. If extrava- gant flattery could be admitted to form part of the character of a useful Mentor, there would be no doubt of Varus's claim to the title. In some verses of his which are extant, he asserts, that his friend Boyd surpassed Buchanan, and all other British poets, in a greater degree than Virgil surpassed Lu- cretius, Catullus, and all other Roman poets ! A fit of the ague compelled Boyd, after a short time, to bid adieu to Italy and his Varus, and to return to Lyons. The civil w ar breaking out in France, revived in the breast of Boyd, that military ardour which had brought him to the continent, but had till now been suffered to remain dormant. He joined the army which came from Germany to the assistance of the Bourbons, but it was unfortunately destroyed before he had an opportunity of gathering a single laurel. A shot in the ankle, obtained in some bush fighting with the peasantry, was the only mark which he re- tained of perils past. Boyd now retired to Thoulouse, and resumed the study of the civil law. The faction of the League, however, soon after obtained possession of this place ; and Boyd, for his short campaign in the royal cause, was thrown into prison. Through the interposition of some learned friends, he was soon released ; went to POETS. — MARK ALEXANDER BOYD. 29 Bourdcaux, which he did not like ; removed to Ro- chelle, which he liked worse ; and, finally, settled in an agreeable rural retreat on the borders of Poictou, where he gave up his chief attention to the study of polite literature. Remembrances of home would, however, often in- trude on this retirement, and, at length, produced a resolution of returning to Scotland. He arrived there in safety, but did not long survive his return, dying of a slow fever in April, 1601, at Pinkill, the family seat, in the 39th year of his age. The merits (jf Boyd are thus depicted by a con- temporary, whose manuscript fell into the hands of Sir Robert Sibbald. " In his person, he was tall and well proportioned ; he had a handsome, sprightly, and engaging countenance, and in his discourse, as- pect, voice, and gesture, there was something singu- larly noble. He was polite, pleasant, acute, cour- ' teous, a ready speaker, and entirely free from envy and avarice. He could easily bear with the jaoasting of the ignorant, but he disliked the coarse and abu- sive manner of writing which prevailed among the learned of his time. He thought it unworthy of a Christian, in a literary contest, to throw out any thing which should hurt the reputation of an adver- sary. In injuries of an atrocious nature, he chose to do himself justice by having recourse to the laws of arras. Among the antients, Xenophon was his fa- vourite as a philosopher, Ceesar as an historian, and Virgil as a poet. So admirably was he skilled in the Greek language, that he could write, dictate, and converse in it, with copiousness and elegance. He despised the centos then much in vogue, and said. 30 LIVES OF EMINENT SCOTSMEN, that the authors of them, however learned, were duli and ignorant men. To an excellent genius, he joined a happy memory and an admirable judgement. So lively and extensive were his abilities, that he could dictate to three scribes in as many dilFerent languages and upon different subjects. Besides his Epistles, after the manner of Ovid, and his Hymns, he wrote a variety of Latin poems that never saw the light. He was the author of notes upon PHny, and published an excellent little book, addressed to Lipsius, in de- fence of Cardinal Bembo and antient eloquence. He translated, likewise, Cjesar's Commentaries into Greek, in the style of Herodotus, but would not per- mit his translation to be made public. He afterwards applied to the cultivation of poetry in his native language, and attained to such excellence in it, that he deserved to be placed on a level with Petrarch and Ronsard. In all his compositions, he displayed more genius than labour. So great were the elevation of his mind and strength of his ambition, that he always aimed at greater things than he could attain, and hence he neglected several opportunities of being advantageously settled, and led a wandering kind of life abroad during fourteen jears." There is a good deal of the Varus in this account ; but making every allowance for the partiality of friendship, we must still recognize in it many admi- rable traits of character, combined, however, with habits which furnish some reason to Pinkerton for saying, that Boyd was rather " a rambling literary charlatan, than a man of genius." Among the manu- scripts which he left behind him, the following came into Sir Richard Sibbald's possession. " In Institu- roETS. — MARK ALEXANDER BOYD. 31 tioncs Imperatoris Coiumenta," l59l. " L' Etat du Ro;yaume d'Escosse a present." " Politicus, ad Jo- anneni Metellanum, Cancellariiim Scotiae." " Scrip- turn de Juris Consulto, ad Franciscum Balduinum." " Poeta ad Cornelium Varum, Florentinum." " Poe- mata Varia"and" Epistote." The " Epistolae" and the " Hj'mni," (part of the " Poemata Yaria,") are in- serted in the " Deliciae Poetarum Scotorum." Of his translation of Cajsar's Commentaries into Greek, and the poems in his native tongue, which are said to have placed him " on a level with Petrarch andRonsard," there appears to ^e no trace. We probably suffer little from the want of the former ; but it is a matter of real regret, that such reputed treasures as his Scottish poems should have been lost to tlie language. The " Ex- cellent little book," addressed to Lipsius in defence of Bcmbo, and antient eloquence, is not known among the bibliomaniacs of this country ; but may very likely still slumber on the shelves of some continental libraries. Among the unpublished MSS., Dr. Leyden takes notice of one on plants, as " a work of consi- derable elegance and poetical merit, which deserves to be inserted in any future edition of the " Deliciae Poetarum Scotorum." " This author," he adds, " has combined the mythological history of plants with their description, but seldom alludes to their medical qualities. The titles of his poems are, 1. Rosa ; 2. Viola ; 3. Lilium ; 4. Hyacinthus ; 5. Pa- paver ; 6. Petilius ; 7. Nardus ; 8. Thymbra ; 9. Linum ; 10. Calendula ; 11. Iris ; 12. Crocus.*" * Preface to " the Coraplaynt of Scotland." 32 LIVES or EMINENT SCOTSMEN. It may be proper to remark, that the title of " Hymni," given by Boyd to one branch of his po- ems, does not imply, as it may seem to do, that they are of a devotional nature. They are on various sub- jects, and none of them devotional. One of them is addressed to Patrick Shavpe, one of his old preceptors at Glasgow, and in terms of affection and gratitude, which form some atonement for the refractoriness of his youth. Te duce, si primum Pamassi comua vidi Ac Aganippaj perfudi labra liquore, Non tantum voces, non triti carmen amici. Nee tenuem florem nee olentis brachia thymbra, et Accipito, banc animam, mequc intra pictora condc. A. B. POETS.— NINIAN PATERSON. 33 NINIAN PATERSON. Among the staunch royalists of Scotland, just pre- vious to the revolution, Ninian Paterson, minister of Liberton church, holds a prominent station. He styles himself " Glasguensis," and is supposed, with some appearance of probability, to have been a rela- tion of John Paterson, Bishop of Galloway, after- wards Archbishop of Glasgow, to whom he addressed several poems, in a collection, which he published in 1678, under the title of " Epigrammatum libri octo cum aliquot psalmonum paraphrasi poetica." The greater number of these epigrams relate to mo- ral or scriptural subjects, and have little of the epi- grammatic character beyond the name. Many of them derive an extrinsic interest from commemora- ting, among other remarkable contemporaries of the author, " Names once known, now dubious or forgot." In point of language, they are superior to the ge- neral order of tramontane Latinity, and shew fre- quently considerable energy both in thought and expression. At the end of the collection, there is an English version of a Latin ode, by Florence Wil- son, published in his Treatise De Tranquilitate AnimcE. The following stanza may serve as a specimen : IMella absynthia non dabunt Uvas nee tribulus ; sic mala gaudia 34 LIVES OF EMINENT SCOTSMEN. Vitse qui sequitur brevis In fructum petit ex arbore non sua. Thus translated by Paterson : As sure no honey from the wormwood drops, Nor berries on the prickled thistle grows ; So he, who, from this short life, pleasure hopes, He seeks the fruit that this tree never knows. During the troubles which agitated the latter years of the reign of Charles the Second, Paterson appears to have thought, that his majesty followed measures of too indulgent -a character, and gave vent to his spleen in a sort of rhyming diary of his opinions, which he published in 1679, under the title of "The Fanatick Indulgence." Prefixed to it, there was an Epistle to James Duke of Albany, afterwards James II. ; and at the close, a Welcome to His Royal High- ness, to Scotland. The duke, was a prince whose con- duct suited better than that of the easy Charles, with the parson of Liberton's views of public policy ; and we need not, therefore, be surprised to find him ex- claiming, AH my desire, great sir, is, that I may Live, like an atom, in the radiant ray Of your life-giving heart and glorious light, Whose crisping spires ma}* make me warm and bright. Ttie " Fanatic Indulgence," as appears from the preliminary epistle to the Duke of Albany, had re- mained for a considerable time, in the author's hands, unpublished. POETS. — NINIAN PATERSON. 35 • Great sir, this poem still conceal'd have I, I Till time hath christen'd it a prophecy ; Indulgence, now unmask'd, strives to tryst • With John of Leyden against Antichrist. ' This is the Trojan house, wherein there lies ' Catsbie and Vaulx, with new conspiracies ; 'This the Shaftsburian-crocodile his blind, To hire the Scots rogues to English commons' minds. The poem itself is a coarse and intemperate pro- duction. The author thus rates the king for his at- tachment to the unkingly virtue of " tame mercie." When now my loyal subjects looked for ISomeHalcyonian days, the tempests roar ; ; And to our eyes, on every rising wave, 1 Death sits in triumph, and presents a grave : [And in the midst of our despaires and fears, iTears drown our sighs, and sighs dry up our tears. 'We are like Job's, these nineteene years perplext, Betwixt distractions, and destructions vext : ***** ***** [f antient sages' saws with you have credite ; jlo spare a vice, it is the way to spread it. jraine mercie is the breast that suckles vice, [Till, hydra-like, her heads she multiplies. ;In sparing thieves and murderers, all see I A. private favour's public injurie ; ;'5hould pitie spare, and let the gangrene spread, 'Until the bodie's wholly putrified? !\Vhat surgeon would do this, but he that's mad ? 'He's cruel to the good, who spares the bad ! Paterson's English poetry is much inferior to his 36 LIVES OF EMINENT SCOTSMEN. Latin ; and he did well, when bidding adieu to the Muses in the following lines, to return to the lansuao^e in which he \vooed them with most success. Sat musis nugisque datum, suspendo sacratis Jam Libertonae barbita muta tholis, Musa, Vale ! quendam leximen dulce labor um Posthac nee votis solicitanda meis. 1 The intolerant spirit manifested by Paterson ap- pears to have provoked the ire of the puritanical part}', b}- whom his character has, more in the spirit of revenge than of truth, been severely assailed. In a work, entitled " An Answer to Scots Presbyterian Eloquence displayed," he is branded as a hypocrite in religion, and a profligate in manners ; but, if we ma}' judge from his works, no calumny could be more unfounded. His sentiments, though mingled with a great deal of prejudice and bad temper, are in the main those of a man of piety and virtue. T. K. POETS.— WILLIAM WILKIE. 37 Dr. AVILKIE. William Wilkie was the son of a respectable farmer in the parish of Dalraeny, in the county of Linlithgow ; and born on the 5lh of October, 1721. After receiving a common school education, he was sent at the ago of 14 to the university of Edinburgh ; but ere he had completed his academical course his father died : leaving the charge of the farm, and the protection of a mother and three sisters, to devolve upon the young student. From the near vicinage of Edinburgh, and the laxity of attendance permitted by the usages of Scottish universities, he was however enabled both to carry on the business of the farm, and to continue his collegiate appearances till he ob- tained the degree of licentiate in the Scottish church. While yet a youth, Wilkie is said to have shewn strong indications of poetic talent. In the statistical account of the parish of Dalraeny, there is a copy of some indiiferent verses On a Storm, alleged to have been written by him when in his tenth year. Dr. Gleig, in the life of Wilkie which he has inserted in the Sup- plement * to the Encyclopedia Britannica, inclines to regard this as " a story fabricated to raise the Scottish poet to the same eminence witli Pope, whose versifica- tion he is allowed to have imitated with success." He ^ First Supplement. PART 4.] E 38 LIVES OF EMINENT SCOTSMEN, does not doubt that Wilkie wrote these verses during some part of his earl-j life ; but he thinks it improba- ble that they were written so early as his tenth year, because he " displays a notion, a confused notion indeed, of the laws of electricity, which a boy in his tenth year, and at a period when electricity was little understood, could nut have acquired." The propriety of this remark is strongly confirmed by an interesting fact, of which Dr. G. was cer- tainly not aware, which at once accounts for young Wilkie's confused knowledge of electricity, and fixes the period when he acquired it. The Professor of Xatural Philosophy in the university of Edinburgh, at the time when Wilkie went through his academical course, was the celebrated Colin Maclaurin ; and among other mysteries of nature which he unfolded to his students, none was more important, or attended with more remarkable circumstances, than that of the phenomenon just alluded to. Mr. Maclaurin had tw o classes : a public class, to w hich all had access ; and a private one, consisting of a select number of the students, of better parts and more inquisitive minds than ordinary, to whom he lectured on the higher parts of philosophy. At a meeting of the latter class one evening, the Professor informed them that he had just received a letter from a learned friend of his on the continent; containing, as he said, discoveries in Natural Philosophy, which were of so extraordinary and whimsical a nature, that he could give no man- ner of credit to them ; and could only conclude that the judgement of his worthy friend was failing, and that he had communicated the reveries of an infected imagi- nation as discoveries in science. He then produced POETS.— WILLIAM WILKIE. 39 the letter, and read, how, that in the neighbour- hood of the place where the writer lived, it had been discovered, that by turning a glass globe quickly round upon its axis, and at the same time rubbing it upon certain substances, it was heard to crackle and seen to emit sparks of fire; that if any person touched it at that time he suffered a violent shock, and seemed to have received a blow upon the wrists ; with many other things to the same purpose, which now rank among the most ordinary phenomena of electricity. Mr. Maclaurin observed, that though strongly per- suaded, that th^ey were mere chimeras of imagination instead of facts, as his friend affirmed, yet as the ope- rations of nature were sometimes very extraordinary, and as he had on every former occasion found his friend a very sober sensible man, not ready to be misled b^^ false appearances, he would not reject as a fiction any thing which he had asserted, till he had given it a fair trial ; and as he had described in a very particular manner the apparatus necessary for pro- ducing such singular effects, he would cause one of the machines to be made in a short time, and repeat the expe- riment. This ho accordingly did. Buthowgreatwashis surprise to find, that upon trial, all the experiments turn- ed out exactly as they had been described ! He immedi- ately called together his students; reminded them of his former incredulity ; repeated the experiments before them, and shewed them how much he had been mistaken, and what inj ustice he had done his ingenious friend. He concluded with warning all those who heard him to profit by the lesson which this occurrence afforded, andnever to reckon any thing which was delivered as a new discovery impossible, however improbable it might appear, till e2 40 LIVES OF EMINENT SCOTSMEN, they had given it the fairest trial. Nor did Mr. Maclaurin rest here. He went to bis public class, which bad as yet heard notiiing of the discovery, and revealed to his younger students all that had passed on the subject. To which class Wilkie belonged, does not appear ; but from the profound knowledge of Na- tural Philosophy which he displayed in after life, it is probable that he ranked among the select few. In either case, his mind must have been struck with a discovery, made and communicated under circumstances so pe- culiar ; and nothing was more natural, than, that on returning home, the " confused notion," (for as yet it could be nothing more,) which he had acquired on the subject of electricity, should have found its way into a poetical effusion, which begins with asking, What penetrating mind can rightly form A faint idea of a raging storm ? Who can express, of elements the war. And noisy thunder roaring from afar ? The production of the poem, according to this expla- nation, must be referred to his fifteenth, or sixteenth, or probably seventeenth year; written it certainly was, in the course of that period, and not earlier. Among the friends whom Wilkie acquired at col- lege, he had the pleasure of ranking Robertson, Hume, Home, Fergusson, and Adam Smith, all names of the first renown in Scottish literature. In his esti- mate of their relative merits, he used to give the pre- ference for sound judgment to Robertson, and for in- vention to Adam Smith. The latter ascription has surprised most people. It would seem that Wilkie had mistaken the mereh' metaphysical ingenuity. POETS. — WILLIAM WILKIE. 41 which gave birth to the Theory of Moral Sentiments, for that power of producing new images and new combinations, to which the name of invention more properly belongs. Instead of excelling his compeers, there was scarcel}'^ one of them to whom Smith was not inferior in this respect. With Hume and Home, at least, he can hold no competition. After obtaining his licence as a preacher of the Gospel, Mr. Wilkie withdrew entirely to Dalmeny, there to await such ecclesiastical preferment as fortune might have in store for him ; assisting only occasion- ally in some neighbouring churches, and devoting his chief attention to the labours of the farm, while poe- try and philosophy occupied his leisure hours. Ten years had passed away in this humble sort of life, when he happened to be called upon to perform divine service in the church of Ratho ; the charge of which was then vacant. Among his hearers on the occasion was the Datron of the living, the Earl of Lauderdale. His lordship was so much pleased with the style in which the young probationer acquitted himself in the pulpit, that after the service of the day was over, he invited him to dine with him at the family seat of Hatton ; and to stay there all night. The favourable impression which his lordship had con- ceived ofWilkie, was greatly heightened by their inter- view ; he found in his guest a man of agreeable, though somewhat eccentric manners, and of various and pro- found information. Pleased that his patronage placed it in his power to raise so worthy an individual from obscurity, his lordship, next morning, presented Wilkie with the presentation to the vacant living. Almost immediately after his induction to the pas- 42 LIVES OF EMINENT SCOTSMEN, loral charge of the parish of Ratho, 1753, Mr. Wilkie published at Edinburgh, an epic poem, which had been the fruit of his previous years of contempla- tive retirement. It was entitled " The Epigoniad," and extended to nine books. In Scotland the work was well received ; but in England it met with few readers, and was rather severely handled by the Cri- tical and Monthly Reviewers. The subject of the poem is drawn from the fourth Iliad, where Sthenelus gives Agamemnon a short account of the sacking of Thebes. when the youth of Greece, by Theseus led, Retum'd to conquer where their fathers bled. These young heroes were known to the Greeks under the name of the Epigoni, or descendants, and for this reason, the author has given to the poem the title of Epigoniad ; a name most unfortunately chosen, for as the circumstance from which it was derived was known only to a very few of the learned, the public were not able to conjecture what could be the subject of the poem, and felt little solicitous to inquire after what suggested nothing to expectation. A tradition remained among the Greeks, that Homer had taken Thebes for the subject of a poem, which is lost, and Wilkie seems to have pleased himself with the thought of reviving the work, as w^ell as of treading in the footsteps of the Grecian bard. Had he possessed all the genius however which was requisite for the task, there was a want of policy in undertaking it ; tlie subject and the name were alike infelicitous. It is not in any modern production that tlie learned will choose to retrace the manners and actions of those heroes, whom Homer and Virgil have immortalized ; POETS. — WILLIAM WILKIE. 43 and the world at large could be expected to feel little interest in anv new addition to scenes and characters, so different from those with which they are familiar, and so far removed from their own times. Accord- ingly, the Epigoniad, though possessed of great merit as an Epic, and rich in poetic charms, entirely- failed in exciting general interest. The sale of the poem among the author's friends in Scotland, having never- theless exhausted the first edition, a second was published in 1759, to which was added a Dream in the manner of Spenser. A very generous effort was at the same tirap made to recall the attention of the public to its merits, by Wilkie's old fellow student, Hume, who published a letter to the editors of the " Critical Review," in which he appealed against their former condemnation of the work, and expatiated at great length and with much fervor of encomium upon its beauties. He represented it as a work abounding in " sublime beauties," and as " one of the ornaments of our language." Among the spe- cimens by which he illustrated his criticism, he refer- red particularly to the Episode on the death of Her- cules, in the seventh book, as exhibiting a sublimity of imagination and energy of style which entitle it to compare wiih any poetry in the English language. " Nothing," he adds, " can be more pathetic than the complaint of Hercules, when the poison of the Centaur's robe begins to prey upon him." As tlie pas- sage is perhaps the best in the poem, and may serve both to shew the degree of discrimination which Hume mingled with his praise, and to furnish a fair idea of Wilkie's capacity as a poet, the repetition of the quo- tation will not, it is hoped, be deemed out of place. 44 LIVES OF EMINENT SCOTSMEN. Sov'reign of heav'n and earth ! whose boundless sway The fates of men and mortal things obey. If e'er delighted, from the courts above. In human form you sought Alcraene's love ; If fame's unchanging voice to all the earth With truth proclaims you, author of raj^ birth ; "Whence, from a course of spotless glory run. Successful toils and wreaths of triumph won, Am I thus wretched ? Better that, before. Some monster fierce had drank my streaming gore, Or crush'd by Cacus, foe to Gods and men, M}^ batter'd brains had strew'd his rocky den ; Than, from m^' glorious toils and triumphs past, To fall subdu'd by female arts at last. O cool my boiling blood, ye winds that blow From mountains loaded with eternal snow. And crack the icy clitFs • in vain ! in vain ! Your rigour cannot quench my raging pain ! For round this heart the furies wave their brands, And wring my entrails with their burning hands. Now, bending from the skies, O wife of Jove ! Enjoy the vengeance of thy injur'd love : For fate, by me, the thund'rer's guilt atones, And, punish'd in her son, Alcmene groans : — Tlie object of your hate shall soon expire ; Fix'd on my shoulders, preys a net of fire ; Whom, nor the toils nor dangers could subdue. By false Euryslheus dictated from you ; IS^or tyrants lawless, nor the monstrous brood Which haunts the desert or infests the flood ; !N'or Greece, nor all the barb'rous climes that lie Where Phoebus ever points his golden eye, POETS.— WILLIAM WlLKIE. 45 A woman hath o'erlhrown ! Ye Gods ! I 3'ield To female arts, unconquer'd in the field. M3' arms — alas ! are these the same that bow'd Anteus, and his giant force subdu'd ? That dragged Xcmea's monster from his den ? And slew the dragon in his native fen ? Alas ! alas ! their mighty muscles fail. While pains infernal ev'ry nerve assail : Alas ! alas ! I feel in streams of woe These eyes dissolve, before untaught to flow. Awake, my virtue, oft in dangers try'd, Patient in toils, in deaths unterrify'd. Rouse to my aid ; nor let my labours past With fame achiev'd, be blotted by the last. Firm and unmov'd, the present shock endure ; Once triumph, and for ever rest secure. Mr. Hume, in the same letter, thus speaks of the '♦ Dream in the manner of Spenser," which Wilkie had appended to the second edition of the Epigoniad. " The poet supposes himself to be introduced to Ho- mer, who censures his poem in some particulars, and excuses it in others. This poem is indeed a species of apology for the Epigoniad, written in a very lively and elegant manner : it may be compared to a well- polished gem of the purest water, and cast into the most beautiful form. Those who would judge of our author's talents for poetry, without perusing his larger work, may satisfy their curiosity bj^ running over this short poem. They will see the same force of imagi- nation and harmony of numbers which distinguish his longer performance ; and may thence, with small ap- 46 LIVES OF EMINEM SCOTSMEN. plication, receive a favourable impression of our au- thor's genius." Nolnithstanding this ardent tribute from friendly criticism, and the great weight of Hume's authoritv, there appears to have been in tlie Epigoniad a gra- vitating tendency, which no praise could counteract. The poem continued, as before, little read, and has become every day less and less known. Mr. Chalmers has indeed included it among his " Works of the Eng- lish Poets ;" but with a qualification which deprives the compliment of all value, and does upon the whole little credit to his independence of opinion. " As I have nothing (he says) to oppose to the neglect with which Wilkie's poems have been treated, I hope 1 shall be pardoned for inserting Mr, Hume's very elaborate criticism, whatever effect it may produce." The plain truth after all, is, that the Epigoniad, though distinguished by great powers of invention, by a per- fectly intimate acquaintance with what we may be allowed to call classic costume, by strength though not ease of diction, and by frequent shooting lights which remind one of the presence of perpetual day, is not altogetlicr such a poem as persons will read, who read with any other purpose than that of reading them- selves asleep. In 1759, Mr. Wilkie was elected Professor of Na- tural Philosophy in the University of St. Andrew's. On removing thither, he took his sisters to reside with him and attend to his domestic affairs. At this pe^ riod his whole fortune did not exceed £200. With this sum he purchased a fesv acres of almost waste land, in the neighbourhood of St. Andrew's ; but by POETS. — WILLIAM WILKIE. 47 his skill in husbandry speedily brought them into a state of cultivation, which was the surprise and envy of his neighbours. As a teacher, he is said to have displayed great knowledge of science, with an easy and familiar mode of illustration, which fixed the at- tention as well as the regard of his pupils. He was, at the same time, extremely close in his mode of rea- soning ; and to those who came to his lectures without a sufficient preparation of geometry, and habits of strict attention, it was apt to appear obscure. In 1766, the University of St. Andrew's con- ferred upon Mr. Wilkie the degree of Doctor in Divinity. After a long estrangement from the Muses, he pro- duced, in 1768, a small collection of " Fables," which he dedicated to his early patron, the Earl of Lauder- dale. Although superior in merit to his Epigoniad, they were attended with even less success. They were obvious imitations of the manner of Gay ; but though not always original, were distinguished by a propriety of sentiment and ease of expression, which even Gay has not often excelled. Sensible of the objection which existed to the want of novelty in his precepts, the author has thus endeavoured to obviate it : You say 'tis vain in verse or prose To tell what ever^^ body knows. And stretch invention to express Plain truths, which all men will confess : Go on, the argument to mend. Prove that to know, is to attend. And that we ever keep in sight What reason tells us once is right ; 48 LIVES OF EMINENT SCOTSMEN. Till this is done, you must excuse The zeal and freedom of my muse. In hinting to the human kind What few deny, but fewer mind. To these sensible arguments, it may be added, that some are formed to propose new maxims, whilst others find themselves more fitted to illustrate those already received. Nor is it easy to be determined who con- tributes most to the interests of morality, the indivi- dual who advances new maxims, which, on account of that very novelty, are likely to lueet with oppo- sition ; or he, who, adopting positions universally assented to, is at more leisure to decorate them with the cliarms of ornamented diction and brilliancy of fancy. Of these Fables, one of the best is " The liare and the Parian* ;" the chief design of which, the author tells us, was " to give a true specimen of the Scottish dialect, where it may be supposed to be most perfect, namely, in Midlothian, the seat of the capital." The style is precisely that of the vulgar Scottish ; and that the matter might be suitable to it, the poet has chosen for the subject, a little story adapted to the ideas of peasants. It is a tale commonh' told in Scotland among the country people, and may be looked upon as of the kind of those aniles fahella, in which Horace observes, his country neighbours were accustomed to convc}' Iheir rustic philosophy. After proposing the moral, that no creature is so contemptible as to be safely made the object of derision, the author pro- ceeds ; * Crab. POETS. — WILLIAM WILKIE. 49 Ye hae my moral, if I am able I'll fit it nicely wi' a fable. A hare, ae morning chanc'd to see A partan creeping on a lee, A fishwife wha was early oot Had drapt the creature thereabout. Mawkin bumbas'd and frighted sair To see a thing but hide and hair,* Which if it stur'd not, might be laen For naething ither than a stane, A squnt-vvise wambling, sair beset Wi' gerse and rashes like a net. First thoughl: to rin for't (for bi kind A hare's nae fechter ye maun mind). But seeing that wi' a' its strength It scarce could creep a tether length, The hare grew baulder and cam near^ Turn'd playsome, and fargat her fear. Quoth Mawkin, " Was there ere in nature Sae feckless and sae poor a creature ? It scarcely kens, or I'm mistaen. The way to gang or stand its lane. See how it steitterst ; I'll be bund To rin a mile of up-hill grund Before it gets a rig-braid frae The place its in, though doon the brae." IMawkin wi' this began to frisk. An' thinkin there was little risk, Clapt baith her feet on partan's back. And tum'd him awald^ in a crack. * Without hide and hair. tStaggers. |Topsy turvy. PAllT 4.] F 60 LIVES OF EMINENT SCOTSiMEN. To see the creature sprawl, her sport Grew twice as good, j^et prov'd but short. For, patting wi' her fit in pla^-, Just whar the partan's nippers lay, He gript it fast, which made her squeel And think she bourded wi' the deil ; She strave to rin, and made a fistle. The tither catch'd a tough bur thrisle Wliich held them baith till o'er a dyke A herd carae stending* wi' his tyket, And fell'd poor Mawkin, sarely ruing Whan forc'd to drink of her ain bre^vin'. The success of " the Fables" would probably have been less indifferent, had they turned less on the au- thor's personal disappointment as an Epic writer. The greater part of them are undisguised hits at the critics, for not discovering in his Epigoniad a merit which it did not possess. The public saw with pain this carping at a judgement which they had so fully confirmed, and shewed, by a continuance of their dis- favour, the folly of contemning general opinion. Dr. Wilkie seems to have sat for his own picture in one of his Fables, TJie Young Lady and the Looking Glass : To bid 30ur friend his errors mend Is almost certain to olFend ; Though you in softest terms advise, Confess him good, admit him wise, In vain you sweeten the discourse — He thinks you call him fool, or worse. Leaping. f ^og. POETS. — WILLIAM VVILKIE. 51 And tj have forgot the parting reproof in his Dia- logue between " The Author and a Friend :" Then take your yys.y, 'tis folly to contend With those who're told tlieirfaults, but will notniend. Dr. Wilkie had almost all his life been subject to ague, and, in order to escape its visitations, he fell into habits which were ultimately the means of short- ening his days. To keep up a perspiration, he lay in bed under a load of no fewer than twenty-four blankets ; and to avoid all chance of the cold damp, he never slept from home without requesting to be indulged with b^d-linen previously used by some of the family ! When he went out, he wore several flannel jackets, waistcoats, and top coat, and over all a great coat and gown, presenting altogether a grotesque magnitude of appearance. His frame became, by this system of living, rapidly debilitated, and after a lin- gering illness, he died en the 10th October, 1772, in his fifty-second year. Although Wilkie commenced his professorship with only £200, he is said to have died worth £3000, accumulated in the course of thirteen 3-ears by par- simonious living. His character in this res-pect has, however, been well vindicated by those who knew him intimately. " Much of his life," it is truly said, " Avas spent in poverty ; and a strong sense of the value of independence induced him to become saving as soon as he could spare any thing from his imme- diate wants, and the necessity of his sisters, for whom he appears to have provided with all the affectionate concern of a parent. By avoiding the expenses of hospitality in a hospitable country, he incurred the f2 52 LIVES OF EMINENT SCOTSMEN, suspicion of avarice ; but he was known to be liberal to the poor, and ought not to be blamed if he pre- ferred the silent dictates of his heart to the ostenta- tious fashion of society." It is said by another authority, that " he was in the habit of spending very considerable sums to relieve poor housekeepers struggling under the oppression of poverty," and tliat " in the most private manner he used to exact a pro- raise of secrecy from those who were the objects of his bounty." The manners of Dr. Wilkie, in private life, were altogether extremely eccentric. The bulk of dress which helped to ruin his constitution, was relieved by no sort of elegance or attention ; his clothes seemed as if thrown upon him by a pitchfork, and as if a brush they never knew ; his wig was always awry ; and such was his habitual carelessness of appearances, that when a preacher, he would even forget when in the pulpit to take his hat off his head : add to these circumstances, that he used tobacco to excess, and the picture of a moving piece of dusty lumber will be complete. His fits of musing were man}-, and contributed un- doubtedly, in no small degree, to confirm his habits of negligence ; they made him often ridiculous in private society, and something still worse in public. When any thing risible occurred to him in these silent dreamings, he would, without saying a word, and in whatever company', burst into a loud fit of laughter, which he afterwards explained as well as he could, and, as may be expected, seldom happily. At the connvial table, such absences were only calculated to provoke a smile ; but when they were seen interfering POETS. — WILLIAM WILKIE. 53 with even his most serious public duties — at one time, forgetting to pronounce the blessing after public ser- vice, at another, dispensing the sacrament without consecrating the elements — one could not help wish- ing that he had been altogether a poet, and no divine. As a poet, Wilkie had two remarkable peculiarities. He was the first, and perhaps the only individual of the fraternity, who was deeply conversant with that most unpoetical of all subjects. Fluxions ; and he never could read aloud the smoothest verse, in such a manner, as to preserve either the measure or the sense, although his own compositions in verse are not deficient in smoothness or elegance. When actively engaged in conversation, and per- haps then only, Wilkie shone to advantage in private. The originality of his opinions, delivered with a bold freedom of manner, and enlivened by frequent sallies of wit and humour, made alwaj^s a great impression on his hearers ; and there were few good judges who did not leave his company with a high opinion of his talents. He was particularly happy in transferring to his conversation, whether on literary or philosophi- cal subjects, the phrases and terms of common life. Having lived during the earlier part of his life, alter- nately with the literary men about the University of Edinburgh, and with the farmers in his own neigh- bourhood, he had acquired a perfect intimacy with the modes of both ; and was thus qualified to shine equally amidst a company of peasants or of phi- losophers. Of his literary friends, most of whom were more fortunate than himself in their literary adventures, Wilkie always spoke without chagrin or envy. He r 3 54 LIVES OF EMINENT SCOTSMEN, was angry with the critics for their want of luerc^^ to his Epigoniad, but not displeased that they discover- ed in the Douglas, and in the Histories of the House of Tudor and of Stuart, some of the first productions of the age. He was fond of telling anecdotes of their authors, and describing the peculiarities of their ge- nius, disposition, and liabits. It is said, however, that towards the close of his life, he broke oft" all correspon- dence with Hume and Robertson ; though for what reason we are not informed. A handsome tribute to the memory of Wilkie was paid by another son of the Muses, Robert Fergusson, who had studied under him, and had been much indebted to his friendship. It was published in the first number of Ruddiman's Weekly Magazine which appeared after the announcement of Dr. Wilkie's death. It has great merit, and is happily not too long for transciiption. Eclogue to the Memory of Dr. William Wilkie. GEORDIE AXD DAVIE. Geordie. Blaw saft my reed and kindly to ray maen, Weel may ye thole a saft and dowie strain, Nae mair to you shall shepherds in a ring Wi' blythness skip, or lassies lilt and sing ; Sic sorrow now maun sadden ilka e'e. An' iika waefu shepherd grieve wi' me. Davie. "Wharefor begin a sad and dowie strain. Or banish lilting frae the Fifan plain ? POETS.— WILLIAM WILKIE. 55 Though simmer's gane, an' we naeJanger view The blades o' claver wat we' pearls o' dew, Cauld winter's blackest blasts we'll eithly cowr, Our eldins driven, an' our har'st is owr ; Our rucks fu' thick are stackit i' the yard. For the Yule feast a sautit mast's prepar'd. The ingle nook supplies the simmer fields. An' aft as mony gleefu' maments yields ; Sw^Hh man, fling a' your sleepy springs awa', An' on your canty whistle gie's a blaw : Blythness, I troj/, maun lighten ilka e'e, An' ilka canty callant sing like me. Geordie. Na, na ; a canty spring wad now impart Just threefald sorrow to my heart; Thof to the weet my ripen'd aits had fawn, Or shakewinds owr my rigs wi' pith had bla^vn, To this I could hae said, " I care na by," Nor found occasion now my cheeks to dry. Crosses like thae, or lack o' warld's gear. Are naething whan we tyne a friend that's dear. Ah ! waes me for you, ^V'illy ! mony a day Did I wi' you, on yon broom thackit brae Haud aff my sheep, an' let them careless gang. To hearken to your cheery tale or sang, Sangs that for ay, on Caledonia's strand Shall fit the foremost mang her tunefu' band. I dreamt yestreen his deadly wraith I saw, Gaing by my een, as white 's the driven snaw ; My colley Ringie, youf'd an' yowi'd a' night, Cour'd an' crap near me in an unco fright. I waken'd fley'd, an' shook baith lith and limb, A cauldness took me, an' my sight grew dim ; 56 LIVES OF EMINENT SCOTSMEN. I kent that it forcspak apprcachin wae, Whan my poor doggie was disturbit sae. Nae sooner did the day begin to dawn Than I beyont the kuowe sae speedy ran, Whare I was keppit wi' the heavy tale That sets ilk dowie sangster to bewail. Davie. An' wha on Fifan bents can weel refuse To gie a tear of tribute to his muse ? Farewell ilk cheery spring, ilk canty note Be daffin, an' ilk idle play forgot ; Bring ilka herd the moumfu', mournfu' boughs, Rosemarj^ sad, and ever-dreary yews ; Thae sal be steepit i' the saut, saut tear. To weet wi' hallow'd draps his sacred bier, Whase sangs will aye in Scotland be rever'd, "While slow-gawn owsen turn the flow'ry swaird. While bonny lambies lick the dews of spring. While gaudsraen whisle, or while birdies sing. Geordie. 'Twas na for weel tim'd verse or sangs alane, He bore the bell frae ilka shepherd swain ; Nature to hira had gien a kindly lore. Deep a' her mystic ferlies to explore ; For a' her secret workings he could gie Reasons, that wi' her principles agree. Ye saw yoursel how weel his mailin thrave. Ay better faughed and snodded than the lave ; Lang had the thristles and the dockens been In use to wag their taps upo' the green, \Miare now his bonny rigs delight the view. An' thrivin hedges drink the callar dew. POETS.— WILLIAM VVILKiE. 57 Davie. They tell me, Geordie, he had sic a gift, That scarce a starnie blinkit frae the lift. But he wou'd some ald-warld name for it find As gart him keep it freshly in his mind ; For this some ca'd him an uncanny wight ; The clash gaed round, " he had the second sight," A tale that never fail'd to be the pride Of grannies spinnin at the ingle side. Geordie. But now he's gane, an' Fame that whan alive, Secnil lets ony 9' her vot'ries thrive. Will frae his shinin name, a' motes withdraw. And on her loudest trump her praises blaw. Lang may his sacred banes untroubl'd rest ! Lang may his truft in gowans gay be drest ! Scholars and bards unheard of yet shall come And stamp memorials on his grassy tomb. Which in yon ancient kirk-yard shall remain Fam'd as the urn that hads the IMantuan swain. W. W. 58 LIVES OF EMINENT SCOTSMEN. ROBERT FERGUSSOX. Robert Fergltsson was bom at Edinburgh, on the fifth of September, 1750. His father, ^^i]llam Fergusson, was an accountant in the British Linen- Hall ; a situation of respectability, but of small emo- lument He is said to have possessed some poetical talent ; but no proofs of it are extant. Young Robert, ^vho was destmed to raise the name of Fer- gusson to a place among the first poets of his country, ■was, in infancy, of so very weakly a constitution, that little hopes were entertained of his arriving at manh; od. By the tender care of his parents, how- ever, he gradually acquired strength ; and at the age of six years, was sent to an English school, where he attained a proficiency in reading and recitation, so rapidly, that before a year elapsed, he was transferred to the High School of Edinburgh, to study the Latin tongue. He remained at this seminary four years ; and, notwithstanding frequent inter- missions of attendance, occasioned by the infirm state of his health, he was able, not only to maintain an honourable competition with his fellows, but to excel most of them. For some reason or other, which does not appear, he was now removed to the grammar school of Dundee, where he continued two years, and then went to the university of St. Andrew's. A gentleman, of the name of Fergusson, had left bur- saries, for the education of two bovs of the same POETS ROBERT FERGUSSON. 50 name, at this university ; and ?v[r. William Fergiisson was fortunate enough to procure one of them for his son ; the expense of whose future education was thus materially lessened. At the university, Fergusson became, as at school, speedily distinguished for a quickness of parts, which superseded assiduity of application ; united how- ever, with a fondness for society and amusement, which presaged a wayward life. Frank, kind-hearted, and frolicsome, he gained the general esteem of his fellow-students, and in all their youthful follies bore a leadhig part. His exploits, on one of these occa- sions, were attended with rather an unfortunate issue. On the evening preceding the distribution of some annual prizes, the successful and disappointed combatants had a fierce encounter, in which, Fer- gusson was reported to have been one of the most forward combatants. The principal aggressors, in- cluding Fergusson, were formally expelled ; but in consequence of their penitential submissions, were, within a few da3S, restored. The eccentric Dr. Wilkie, author of the Epigoniad, with whom Fer- gusson had become a great favourite, is said to have particularly exerted his interest on this occasion, in behalf of the 3oung otFender. A place of favourite resort with the students, on winter nights, was the Porter's Lodge : which Fer- gusson has made the subject of some pleasing reminis- cences, in his elegy on John Hogg, the Porter. Say, ye red gowns ! that aften here Hae toasted cakes to Katie's beer : Gin 'ere thir days hae had their peer, Sae blyth, sae daft ; 60 LIVES OF EMINENT SCOTSMEN. Ye'll ne'er again, in life's career. Sit half sae saft. While pursuing his stadies at St. Andrew's, Fer- gusson is said to have begun to direct his attention to poetry, and to have written many occasional pieces, which attracted the particular notice of the professors, as well as of his fellow-students. None of his published poems, however, can be referred to so early a period ; all of theinhave the marks of long subsequent production. Dr. Irving mentions, that some fragments of a dramatic cast, written with Fer- gusson's own hand, are to be found on the blank leaves of a book, which was in his possession while at St. Andrew's. The following verses are all that can be distlncriy read ; they are puerile, but from the period at which they were written, objects of curiosity. — Therefore, 'tis meet, that Sisera be crown'd With all the honour worthy of his service : And that tliis day for mirth be set apart, To celebrate the deeds and valiant acts Display'd by him in war. Conquest alone, ra}- liege, repays our toil ; But, since it is your sovereign inclination. This day to grace us with a pompous triumph. As swift as thought ray deeds shall fly, to serve In all your after battles. He had, we are told, commenced, at this time, a tragedy, on the story of Sir William Wallace, but relinquished it after rinishing the first two acts, be- POETS. — ROBERT FERGUSSON. 61 cause he met with another drama on the same sub- ject, and was apprehensive of being regarded as a copyist. Fergusson's original destination was the church. To his name, on his class books, he used to add " Student of Divinity ; " but it does not appear, that he ever entered on the actual study of divinity. After attending tlie preliminary courses of Humanity, Science, and Philosophy, which occupied the four years to which his bursary extended, he returned to Edinburgh. His father was now dead, and his mother in poor circumstances. He found it imme- diately necessary to have recourse to some employ- ment, for the means of subsistence ; and in the hope of being assisted in this object by a maternal uncle, Mr. John Forbes, a gentleman of opulence, who re- sided in Aberdeen, he paid him a visit. Mr. Forbes received him with kindness, and told him, to make his house his home for the present ; but with an insen- sibility to his ultimate welfare, which shewed as much weakness of head as want of heart, he took no pairs to put the youth in a way of providing for himself 5 and after the lapse of six months, the ne- phew's clothes beginning to assume rather a poetic appearance, he was no longer deemed a fit guest for his uncle's table ; and, to the disgrace of that uncle's memory, was rudely turned out of doors. Poor Fergusson, stung to the quick at the harsh treatment which he had received, retired to a little solitary inn, that stood at a small distance, where he despatched a letter to his unfeeling relative, couched in the most indignant, but manly, terms. The letter appears to have produced a momentary impression of shame PART i.] o 1 62 LIVES OF EMINENT SCOTSMEN. " on the uncle ; he despatched a messenger after Fer- gusson, with a few shillings, to defray his expenses on the road to Edinburgh. — A pitiful boon, which, it is probable, Fergusson was not in circumstances to refuse. He travelled all the way on foot, and was so fatigued by his journey, and depressed in spirits, that he reached his mother's house extremely ill, and remained so for several days. Dr. Irving, and other biographers of Fergusson, say, that when he began to recover strength, he composed two poems, in reference to his adventure in the north ; the one, on The Decay of Friendship, and another. Against repining at Fortune. Tlie ap- plicability of the titles appears, however, to be the only authority for this statement. Neither of these pieces made their public appearance till some years afterwards. His visit to Aberdeen must have been made when he was about liis eighteenth year, that is, in 1767 or 1768 ; but the Decay of Friendship was not published (in Ruddiman's Weekly Magazine) till September, 1772 ; and the lines, Against repin- ing at Fortune, not till 24th September, 1772. Besides, in neitlier of the poems is there any thing which can be supposed to have a direct reference to the con- duct of his uncle, which would, doubtless, have been the case, had they been written in the first warmth of his resentment. Fergusson was now reduced to such necessitous cir- cumstances, that he was content to submit to the drudgery of copj'ing papers in the office of the commissary's clerk, and afterwards, in that of the sheriff's clerk, for the means of subsistence ; an oc- cupation, to which it was his unfortunate lot to remain chained for the rest of his life. POETS. — ROBERT FERGUSSON. 63 The editor of the first collection of his poems as- serts, that he coniraenced tlie study of the law, as a profession ; but made no progress in it, on account of the sprightliness of his genius, which rose superior to so dry and sedentary a pursuit. The assertion is without foundation. He copied law papers for bread, like the English Chief Justice, Saunders ;* and might, possibly, have picked up enough of law knowledge, in the course of time, to become even a Chief Justice ; but beyond that very vague chance, neither his hopes nor plans extended. The editors of the Enc. Brit, in their article on Fergusson, em- brace the opportunity of making some very sensible * Sir Edmund Saunders, Lord Chief Justice of the Court of King's Bench, towards the close of the seventeenth century, was originally, a strolling beg- gar about the streets, without known parents or re- lations. He came often to beg scraps at Clement's Inn, where his sprightliness and diligence made the society desirous to extricate him from his miserable situation. As he appeared desirous to learn to write, one of the attornies fixed a board up at a window, on the top of a staircase, which served him as a desk, and there the beggar-boy sat, and wrote after co- pies of court and other hands, in which he at length acquired such expertness, as in some mea- sure to set up for himself, and commence hackney writing. He also took all opportunities of improv- ing himself, by reading such books as he could bor- row ; and in the course of years became an attorney, counsel, and ultimately Chief Justice. — Biog. Dict^ G 2 64 LIVES OF EMINENT SCOTSMEN, observations on the pretended incompatibility of the study of the law, with such liveliness of genius as Fergusson possessed. " We might instance," they say, " ditlerent lawyers at our own bar, who, with great poetical talents in their youth, have risen to the summit of their profession ; but, to avoid per- sonal distinctions at home, we shall take our ex- amples from England. The genius of the late Earl of Mansfield was, at least, as lively as that of Mr. Fergusson ; and if lie had pleased, he could have been equally a poet ; yet he submitted to the drudgery of studying a law, still drier than that of Scotland. To the fine taste of Atterbury, Bishop of Rochester, and to his classical compositions, both in prose and verse, no man is a stranger, who is at all conversant in English literature : yet, that elegant scholar and poet, after he had risen to tlie dignity of Dean of Carlisle, submitted to the drudgery of studying, through the medium of barbarous Latin, the eccle- siastical law of England, from the earliest ages ; and declared, that by dint of perseverance, he came, in time, to relish it as much as the study of Homer and Virgil. Whatever may be thought of Milton's political principles, no man can read his controver- sial writings, and entertain a doubt, that he also could have submitted to the drudgery of studying the law. The truth is, that a man of real vigour of mind may bring himself to delight in any kind of study which is useful and honourable. Such men were Lord Mansfield, the Bishop of Rochester, and Milton. But whether through some radical defect in his nervous system, or in consequence of early dissipations, Mr. Fergusson, with many estimable POETS.— ROBERT FERGUSSON. G5 qualities, was so utterly destitute of mental vigour, that, rather than submit to what his friends call drudgery, he seemed to have looked with a wistful eye to some sinecure place." The last observation will, perhaps, be regarded as an exception to the good sense and feeling, which pervade the rest of this passage. It is, surely, a very false supposition, to imagine that Fergusson, who courdbend himself to the drudgery of being a mere copying machine, could not muster determination enough, to submit to the mental labour of studying any science which would have conducted him to an honourable independence. The truth is, that poor Fergusson had neither the opportunity, nor the means,. of following the law, as a profession. The bar was too remote an aim, for one so destitute : and the infe- rior branches of the profession were not to be attained except through a servitude, unsuitable to the period of life at which he had arrived. Fergusson was glad to commence copying papers for his daily bread ; and, like others, whom accident has thrown into a course of life contrary to their inclination, was prevented by the pressure of daily necessity from adventuring on ; a better. " Alone, the oar he plied ; the rapids nigh ; I To pause, but for a moment, was to die." Some friendly hand might have interposed its aid, t to give a happier direction to his fortunes ; but none I such was held forth. Let it not, therefore, be imput- ed to Fergusson as a fault, that he but yielded to a tide of events, which he could not controul. G o 66 LIVES OF EMINENT SCOTSMEN. Tlie writer in the Encyclopedia lias Ixintcd at the probability, that " early dissipation may have con- tributed to that want of mental vigour," which he makes the source of Fergusson's declension in life. But the dissipation of Fergusson had not commenced at the time he was under the necessity of betaking himself to the mean employment, in which he conti- nued till the close of his days. Having been, for many years, absent from Edinburgh, he returned to it almost an entire stranger ; and it was not till the publication of the poetry, with which he solaced his leisure hours, had brought him into notice about two years after, that he acquired friends and companions, and was drawn by them into the vortex of pleasure. When Fergusson came back from Aberdeen, he could not have passed his nineteenth j'car ; but it was not till 1771, when he was in his twenty-first year, that his pieces began to make their appearauce, in Ruddi- man's Weekly Magazine. * That Fergusson, at last, plunged into a course of dissipation, hostile to all steadiness of purpose, and calculated, artificially, to increase the difficulty of emancipating himself from the low condition of life into which he had fallen, must, with feelings of sor- row, be allowed. Possessing great powers of fasci- *Dr. Irving says, that " beforehe reached the twen- tieth year of his age, many of his Utile poems made their .appearance in Ruddiman's Weekly Magazine." But this must be a mistake. The JMagazine only commenced in July, 1768, when JMr. Fergusson was in his nineteenth year : and in the first four volumes, there is not an acknowleged line from his pen. POETS. — ROBERT FEKGUSSON. 67 nation in company ; the broadest humour with the keenest wit ; singing, mimicr}-, and story telling, each in an unrivalled degree ; an open heart, for ever overflowing with fine and generous emotions ; his company became eagerly courted by persons of all classes in life. Fergusson obeyed the call of plea- sure with too unreserved an alacrity ; and was but too often led into the company of men, who, simply ambitious of partaking in the excesses of genius, cared not to what extremes of folly they urged him on ; and who, unfortunately, could make no com- pensation, when ^ the hour of revelry was past, for the sacrifices of time and character which their selfish feelings had exacted. The mind of Fergusson would often' return, with sadness, to the bright hopes which shed a radiance over his earlier years ; for, though no unwilling vo- tary of pleasure, he was sufficiently conscious of the profitless nature of the round of dissipation in which it had now involved him. It was, probably, on some occasion of this kind, that he wrote the elegy on the Decay of Friendship, which has been ascribed to so much earlier a period. It abounds in circum- stances which can only have reference to this day of merriment and glee. Flatter}^ ! alluring as the syren's \a.y, And as deceitful, thy enchanting tongue ; How have ye taught my wav'ring mind to stray, Charm'd and attracted by the baneful song. 68 LIVES OF EMINENT SCOTSMEN. To wake emotions in the youthful mind, Strephon, with voice melodious, tun'd the song ; Each sylvan youth, the sounding chorus join'd. Fraught with contentment 'mid the festive throng. But ah ! these youthful sportive hours are fled ; These scenes of jocund mirth are now no more No healing slumbers 'tend my humble bed ; No friends console the sorrows of the poor. And what avail the thoughts of former joy ? What comfort they in the adverse hour ? Can they the canker-worm of care destroy, Or brighten Fortune's discontented lour ? To the lone corner of some distant shore. In dreary, devious pilgrimage I'll fly. And wander pensive, where Deceit no more Shall trace my footsteps with a mortal eye. There, solitary, saunter o'er the beach, And to the murra'ring surge my grief disclose ^ There, shall my voice, in plaintive wailings, teach The hollow caverns to resound ray woes. ******* Adieu ! ye fields, where I have fondly stray'd : Ye swains, who once the fav'rite Damon knew : Farewell, ye sharers of my bounty's aid ; Ye sons of base ingratitude, adieu ! The fits of repentance and amendment, which POETS. — ROBERT FERGUSSON. 69 Isuch reflections produced, were, however, but of • momentary duration ; lasting, generally, only till some new allurement invited him to a new oblivion of his cares. His mind was of a cast which sought ra- ther for circumstances of consolation under raisfor- |tune, than for tlie means of overcoming it ; turning liintoan aticctation of philosophic indifference, what ;.was, after all, no better than a tame submission to I'lthings as he found them. This is strikingly pour- }:trayed, in his verses Against repining at Fortune, which may be received as a synopsis of a specious ' process of reasonyig, but too familiar to all dissolute . sons of genius. After complaining of Fortune, the ! author thus apostrophizes Nature : — 1 Nature, thou look'st with more impartial eyes : 1 Smile then, fair Goddess ! on my sober lot, ' I'll neither fear her fall, nor court her rise. When early larks shall cease the matin song ; When Philomel at night resigns her la^-s ; When melting numbers to the owl belong ; Then shall the reed be silent in thy praise. Can he, who with the tide of Fortune sails, I More pleasure from the sweets of Nature share ; ; Do Zephyrs waft him more ambrosial gales, Or do his groves a gayer liv'ry wear ? jTo me, the heav'ns unveil as pure a sky ; ' To me, the flow'rs as rich a bloom disclose ; 'The morning beams as radiant to m}' eye ; And darkness guides me to as sweet repose. 70 LIVES OF EMINENT SCOTSxMEN. The genuine sincerity of such reflections can in no way be better illustrated, than by the very next verses which Fergusson published in his poetical Iti- nerary, Ruddiman's Magazine. The}- are entitler' " Braid Claith." Ye, wha are fain to hae your name Wrote in the bonny book of fame ; Let merit nae pretension claim To laurel'd wreath : But hap ye weel, baith back and wame. In sude braid claith. Braid claith lends fouk an unco heeze ; Makes mony kail-worms, butterflees ; Gies mony a doctor his degrees, For little skaitli : In short, you may be what you please "\Vi' gude braid claith. For thof ye had as wise a snout on. As Shakespeare, or Sir Isaac Newton, Your judgment, fouk wad hae a doubt on ; I'll tak my aith ; Till they could see ye wi' a suit on, O gude braid claith. Fergusson, unable to resist the temptations whiLi\ the town daily, cr rather nightly, presented, had con- ceived the determination of flying from them. He took lodgings at a small distance from town ; made frequent excursions into the country ; and at last, finding that the syren pleasure still waylaid hiiu POETS. — ROBERT FERGUSSON. 71 \Mieievcr he roved on Scottish ground, thought of going to sea, to try his fortune. All this shews, if not much resolution, at least, much good intention ; a dread of the abyss to which he vvas hastening, but an unhappy inability to escape it. While on one of these country" rambles, a clergy- man discovered him, wandering, in a pensive mood, through the church-yard of Haddington. The wor- thy divine, though unacquainted with Fergusson, ap- pears to have known his person and character ; and entering into conversation with him, took advantage of the many memorials of human mortality scattered around them, to touch with energy and feeling, though without the seeming of any personal allusion, on the madness of those, who, heedless of the awful account which they must render at last, waste the precious moments of this life in a ceaseless round of gaiety and licentiousness. The applicability of this casual lesson to his own situation, and to his train of feeling at the moment, sunk deep into the mind of Fer- gusson ; and he returned to Edinburgh, fully resolv- ed to enter upon an amended course of life. This, like most of his resolutions, however, quickly yield- ed to new seductions, and had become almost for- gotten, when an incident, of somewhat a romantic cast, recalled forcibly to mind the lessons of his church-yard monitor. In the room adjoining that in which Fergusson slept, a starling was kept. One night, a cat, having found its way down the chim- ney, seized the starling, which awoke IMr. Fergus- son by the most alarming screams. He rose, and dis- covered the cause of the alarm, but too late to save the poo]^ bird. The circumstance gave rise to reflec- 72 LIVES OF EMINENT SCOTSMEN. tions, which banished sleep from his pillow for the rest of the night. How truly had the often-recited lesson of his youth been exemplified.— " He shall come upon thee in Ihe night , as a thief comeih, and thou shalt not know when he cometh T' How terrible had been the fatal stroke, to a sinless and unaccountable creature ! Could it be less so, to one who shared of the sinful- ness common to humanity ; -who might be seized in the midst of sins unnumbered and unrepented ; and to whom death \vas not oblivion, bat the passage to a state of eternal misery or happiness ? Indulging in this train of thought, rendered more awful by the solemn stillness of the night, day light found him wrought up to a pitch of remorse, bordering on despair. He rose, not as he was wont, to mix again w ith the social and gay, but to be a recluse from society, devoured by the remembrance of follies past. AH his vivacity had forsaken him ; those lips, which never opened but to impart delight, were closed as by the hand of death ; and '' on his countenance sat horror plumed." Even this impression, however deep and appalling it was, vanished in the course of time. Fergusson's nature was of too social a cast to resist the attrac- tions of pleasure long. Yielding to one kind impor- tunity after another, he gradually relapsed into his old course of gaiety and dissipation. Happily, how- ever, for the interests of poetry if not for his own, he still laboured with assiduity in the service of the Muses. During the years 1772 and 3773, which embrace the worst periods of his dissipation, scarcely a week elapsed without some valuable con- tribution to Ruddiman's Magazine. His poetic fervour, indeed, seemed always greatest when he was new POETS---ROBERT FERGUSSON. 73 from the inspirations of the festive circle ; and most t)f his pieces bear obvious marks of having been the rapid result of passing suggestions and occurrences. In August, 1773, he published a poetical account cf the expedition to Fife and the Island of May on board the Blessed Endeavour of Dunbar, Captain Roxburgh Commander. The party appear to have been inhospitably received ontheFifan shore, and Fer- gusson thus pours cut on it the vials of a poet's wrath. " To Fife we steer, of all beneath the sun The most unhallovv'd mid the Scotian plains I And here, sad emblem of deceitful times. Hath sad Hypocrisy her standard borae. Mirth knows no residence, but ghastly Fear Stands trembling and appal'd at airy sights. Once only, only oiice, (reward it, O ye powers !) Did Hospitality, with open face And winning smile, cheer the deserted sight, That else had languished for the blest return Of beauteous day to dissipate the clouds Of endless night and superstition wild. That constant hover o'er the dark abode." This reproach gave such offence to the swains of Fife, tliat one of them, in that true spirit of locality which led Captain Forbes to challenge Wilkes, sent a similar message to Fergusson ; " Some canker'd, surly, sour-mow'd carline " Bred near tlie Abbey o' Dunfarmline." Instead of accepting the invitation, however, the bard treated it with the ridicule which it deserved. In the course of the same year, Fergusson took a ramble to Dumfries, to visit an old poetic companion, PART 4.] H 74 LIVES OF EMINENT SCOTSMEN, of the name of Charles Salmon,* who had left Edin- burgh, to follow the business of a printer with Mr. Jackson, the publisher of the Dumfries Weekly Magazine. He was accompanied bv a Lieutenant Wilson of the navy ; the son of a INlr. Wilson, well known at onetime as a lecturer on elocution in Edin- burgh, and the author of several occasional pieces of poetry, which appeared in the public journals with the signature of Claxidero. Fcrgusson presented him- self to the curious gaze of the Dumfries wits, in rather a strange plight. His person and dress were in the greatest disorder : he wore, instead of a coat, a short white flannel jacket ; and having performed the journey on foot, was all over dust. He seemed for all the world like a recruit after a long march, instead of tlie gay minstrel, " on pleasure bent." He apolo- gized for his dishabille by saying, that his friend and himself had taken rather sudden leave of " Auld Reikie ;" they had been carousing together the pie- ceding night, and after leaving the tavern at peep of morn, had indulged in some such pranks as those so pleasantly relatt-d in the epilogue spoken by Mr. Wilson, in the character of an Edinburgh Buck. " for valour's dazzlinrr sun Up to his bright meridian had run, And like renowned Quixote and his squire, Sports and adventures were our sole desire. * * * » * J * Now had they borrow 'd Argus' eyes, who saw us. All was made dark and desolate as chaos : * See Memoir of Salmon in Part III. POETS. — ROBERT FERGUSSON. 75 Lamps tumbled after lamps, and lost their lustres, Like doomsday when the stars shall fall in clusters. Let fancy paint what dazzling glory grew, From christal gems, when Phoebus came in view : Each shatler'd orb ten thousand fragments strews. And a new Sun in every fragment shews." To end their frolic, or, perhaps, to escape its con- sequences, Fergusson proposed, that without going home, they should start off to Dumfries, on a visit to their old friend Charlie Salmon. The challenge was readily accepted, and away they hied. Salmon, proud of hi^ visitor, introduced him to all the ad- mirers of genius about Dumfries, in whose society lie found quite another Edinburgh, of high delight and ruinous excess. His reminiscence of the banks of the Nith was however of a different sort from that of the Fifan plains ; for in the hour of parting, being pressed to leave some memorial of his Nithsdale excursion, he wrote on the instant (as lie did most of his pieces) the following complimentary verses : they have not appeared in any collection of his works, nor indeed in print, unless it may have been in the Dumfries Weekly Magazine, which the writer of the present memoir has no opportunity of consulting. He is now mdebted for them to a manuscript copy taken at the time, by one who had he pleasure of seeing Fergusson, when on this poetic ramble.* * And the honour of following closer on his footsteps, than any one of all the Scottish bards who intervened between him and Burns. Mr. Scott, in his notes to the Lady of the Lake, speaking of the ceremony of shoot- 76 LIVES OF EMINENT SCOTSMEN. Verses on visiting Dumfries. The gods, sure, in some canny hour, To bonny Nith ha'e ta'en a tour, Where bonnj^ blinks the caller flow'r, Beside the stream ; And, sportive, there ha'e shawn their povv'r In fairy dream ! Had Kirkhill* here but kent the gaet, The beauties on Dumfries that wait. He'd never turn'd his canker'd pate, 0' satire keen. When ilka thing's sae trig and feat To please the een. I ken, the stirrah loo'd fu' weel Amang the drinking loons to reel ; On claret brown or porter sweel, Whilk he cou'd get ; After a shank o' beef he'd peel. His craig to whet. Marshals and Bushbyst then had fund Some kitchen gude to lay the grund. And Cheshire mites wi' skill to hund. And fley awa The heart-scad, and a scud o' wund Frae stamack raw ! ing for the silver gun at Dumfries, says, "it is the sub- ject of an excellent Scottish poem, entitled the Siller Guri, 1808, by Mr. John Mayne, which surpasses the efforts of Fergusson and comes near those of Burns.'* * Churchill the satirist. t The chief innkeepers in Dumfries. POETS. — ROBERT FLRGUSSON. 77 Had Horace liv'd, that pleasant sinner, Who loo'd gude wine to synd his dinner, His muse, though dowf, the deil be in her, Wi' bhthest sang. The drink wad round Parnassus rin her Ere it were lang ! Nae mair he'd sung to auld Mecaenas The blinking een o' bonny Venus ; His leave at ance he wud ha'e ta'en us For claret here. Which Jove and a' his gods still rain us > Frae year to year ! O ! Jove, man ! gie's some orro pence, Mair siller, and a wee mair sense, I'd big to you a rural spence. And bide a' simmer ; And cauld frae saul and body fence Wi' frequent brimmer ! R. Fergusson. Towards the end of 1773, Fergusson published a collection of his poems, including such pieces as had appeared in Ruddiraan's Magazine, and a few others. " Auld Reikie," the first canto of an intended poem of some length, followed ; it was dedicated to Sir W^iiliam Forbes, the friend and biographer of Dr. Beattie, but, as Dr. Irving tells us, that worthy Baronet despised " The poor ovations of a minstrel's praise." He was even, it seems, offended at the liberty which Fergusson had taken, in dedicating it to him with out permission. u3 78 LIVES OF EMINENT SCOTSMEN. The dissipated course of life which had now so long been habitual with Fergusson, began, at length, to hasten towards its natural termination. His bodily frame, never very strong, became broken and ema- ciated ; his mind lost all coherence, and sunk from weakness into a state of utter lunacy : fears of the future returned and usurped entire dominion over his disordered intellects. Religion was now his only theme, and the Bible, as with Collins, his constant companion.* The few unpublished manuscripts which he had in his possession he committed to the flames, and the only consolation which the recollection of his poetry seemed to afford him, was, that it had never been pros- tituted to the service of vice or irreligion. From this afflicting state of mental alienation, he ex- perienced a temporary relief and began again to visithis friends. One night however he had the misfortune to fall from a staircase, and was carried home in a state of insensibility. Frenzy ensued, and as his poor mother was not in circumstances to command the attendance requisite, in her own house, she was under the painful necessity of removing him to the public Asylum. A few of his most intimate friends, having watched a proper opportunity, found means to convey him tliither, by decoying him into a chair, as if he had been about to pay * " He had withdrawn from study, and travelled with no other book than an English Testament, such as l;hildren carry to the school, when his friend took it into his liead, out of curiosity, to see what companion a man of letters had chosen. " 1 have but one book," said Collins, " but it is the best." Johnson's Life of Collins. POETS.— ROBERT FERGUSSON. 79 some evening visit. When they had reached the place of their destination, all was wrapt in profound silence. The poor youth entered the dismal mansion ; he cast his eyes wildly around and began to perceive his real situation : the discovery awakened every feeling of his soul. He raised a hideous shout, which being returned by the wretched inhabitants of every cell, echoed along the vaulted roofs, and produced in the minds of his companions sentiments of unspeakable horror.* When he was afterwards visited by his mother and sisters, they found him lying in his cell, calm and col- lected. He expressed a perfect knowledge of his melancholy condition ; recalled to their recollection a presentiment which he had often felt, of thus ending his days ; but endeavoured to comfort them with as- surances of his being humanely used in the Asylum. At parting, he entreated his sister to come and fre- quently sit by him, in order to dispel the gloom which overcast his mind. But, alas ! they parted never to meet again. A few days after, the melan- choly tidings came, that poor Fergusson had breath- ed his last. He died on the 16th of October, 1774, in the twenty-fifth year of his age. His remains were interred in the Canongate church-yard. In a poetical will and codicil, which Fergusson published the year before his death, he had confided the task of writing his epitaph to one of his most in- timate companions, William Greenlaw.f * Irving. t The following notice of Greenlaw appeare,d in the Edinburgh Magazine and Review, a few weeks after his death. 80 LIVES OF EMINENT SCOTSMEN. <' Let honest Greenlaw be the staff. On which I lean for epitaph : And that the Muses, at ray end. May know I had a learned friend, " Died, at Edinburgh, JMr. William Greenlaw, preacher of the gospel, in the sixty third year of his age. Though he followed not the profession to which he was bred, he was deeply skilled in theology : the few discourses he composed, discovered an abun- dance of matter that would have sparkled through entire volumes of modem sermons. His views also in astronomy and all the branches of mathematics were profound and uncommon, but he meant chiefly to distinguish himself by his knowledge of the learned languages : the study of them was the great object of his life, and the progress he made in them was pro- portioned to his acuteness and assiduity. He taught them privately in Edinburgh, above twenty years ; and there was so little jealousy in his nature, that he freely bestowed his knowledge on those teachers who wished to protit by his communica- tions. What peculiarly distinguished him, was a flow of inoffensive humour ; a gift rarely possessed by the natives of Scotland. His heart was warm and open, his social spirit unbounded. Of money he professed a contempt, and he refused a living, which his friends would have pressed upon him. With an ambition to excel, he was yet careless of his reputa- tion"; conscious of his own merit, he allowed men to judge of him as they pleased. His manners were simple, his figure ungainly. In a licentious age he made a vow of chastity, and what is more surprising, POETS.— ROBERT FERGUSSON. 81 Whate'er of character he's seen, In me thro' humour or chagrin ; I crave his genius may narrate in The strength of Ciceronian Latin." Greenlaw, however, died without performing the friendly oifice thus bequeathed to him. The loss of Fergusson was, indeed, not unlamcnted by his poeti- cal contemporaries. The press teemed with affectionate tributes to his memory. One of the best of these, written by Mr. Tait, author of the Cave of Morar, is commonly appended to the editions of Fergusson's works. JMr. Wood, the respectable comedian of the Edinburgh theatre, who ranked among the most es- teemed friends of Fergusson, tendered some lines which might have supplied " honest Greenlaw's" omission ; but though of considerable merit, they have been hitherto passed unnoticed by all Fergusson's biographers. Epitaph intended for the late Robert Fergusson. Mild Nature smil'd upon her sportive hard. But Fortune from his sight her blessings hurl'd. His spirit maddened at the lean reward. Burst from its bonds, and left th' ungrateful world. W. Woods. Fergusson has Uius commemorated his regard for Mr. Woods, in his will : — he kept it. The last years of his life were rather unfortunate ; the constant use he had made of his fa- culties seems to have impaired them. But he had not the misery to survive their extinction ; death came to him when his friends wished for it." 82 LIVES OF EMINENT SCOTSMEN. " To Woods, whose genius can provoke His passions to the bowl or sock, For love to thee, and to the nine. Be my immortal Shakspeare thine : Here may you thro' the alleys turn. Where FalstafF laughs, where heroes mourn, And boldly catch the glowing fire. That dwells in raptures on his lyre." Of all the poets, however, who have attempted to do justice to the memory of Fergusson, none has performed the task in a more feeling or discriminat- ing manner than Dr. Geddes, in his " Epistle to the Scottish Society of Antiquaries, on being chosen a correspondent member." " Whare now the njmphs that wont to feed Their flocks upon the banks o' Tweed, An' sang sa mony a winsom air About the bus aboon Traquair ? Waes me ! sin' Ramsay disappear'd, Their tunefu' voice is na mair hear'd : Nor ha' their charms sin syne been shown, Except to Fergusson alone. lU-wierdet wight! whawud prefer A reaming bicker o' Bell's beer, To a' the nectar that distills Fre Phoebus' munt in sucar't rills ; And loo'd Aid Reikie's boussom lasses, Mair than tlie maidens o' Parnassus ; Yet he had ilka art to please. And win the dortiest een of these : 'His was the reed, sae sweet and shrill. That sang The lass of Patie's Mill; I POETS. — ROBERT FERGUSSON. 83 That tempcr't Hammy's native fire ; And Forbes' fife, sa feat and trim Was left, butony doubt, to him ; Butnowther reed, nor lyre, nor fife. Regarded he, but drank thro' life, And leugh until the cald o' death Chill'this hcart-blude, and stop't his breath; He died, puir sauI ! and \vi' him died The relict ?,luse, o' Mither-Lied." * The spot, which contained the ashes of poor Fer- gusson, remained for a long time without any monu- ment to mark^it out to the eye of the inquiring stranger. It was reserved to the kindred spirit of Bums to repair this national neglect. " In relating," says Dr. Currie, " the incidents of our poet's life in Edinburgh, we ought to have mentioned the senti- ^ ments of respect and synipathy with which he traced out the grave of his predecessor, Fergusson ; over whose ashes, in the Canongate church-yard, he obtain- ed leave to erect an humble monument ; which will be vievved by reflecting minds with no common inte- rest ; and which will awake in the bosom of kindred genius, many a high emotion." On one side of the stone, he caused the following epitaph, of his own composition, to be engraven : " No sculptur'd marble here, nor pompous lay ! No storied urn, nor animated bust I This simple stone directs pale Scotia's way To pour her sorrows o'er her poet's dust." I'he other side bears this inscription : I * Mother tongue. 84 LIVES OF EMINENT SCOTSMEN. " By special grant of tlie Managers To Robert Burns, — who erected this stone, This burial-place is ever to remain sacred to the memory of Robert Fergusson." How fondly Fergusson was beloved by his friends, was evinced in a very remarkable manner by a circumstance which occurred shortly after his death ; and which shews, that though he must ever be ranked amongst the neglected sons of genius, those who shared his intimacy are least to be re- proached widi that neglect. Among his numerous gay associates, many, doubtless, were unprofitable through utter heedlessness ; but there were ethers, who only wanted the power, to have made the greatest sacrifices for the sake of their ingenious friend. There was one who lived to have that power, and he exercised it nobly. He was a young gentleman of the name of Buniet. Having gone oat to the East Indies, he soon found himself on the road to afiiuence ; and re- membering the less fortunate situation of the friend whom he admired above all others, he sent Fergusson a cordial invitation to come over to India ; pointed out the mode by A\hich the requisite permission might be obtained ; and at the same time, enclosed a draught for one hundred pounds, to defray the ex- penses of his outfit. A generous deed ! But alas ! it came too late. — It fell " as a sunbeam on the blast- ed" blossom." Before the letter arrived, poor Fer- gusson had breathed his last. Deeds, like this, are rare in the history of youthful attachments ; un- exampled, perhaps, in the chances of humble genius. POETS. — ROBERT FERGUSSON. 85 Mr. Burnet's benevolent intentions v.ere, indeed, frustrated by the stroke of death, but they will have their reward in an honourable fame ; for, while the name of Fergusson lasts, that of Burnet can never be forgotten. Of the fascinating charm which Fergusson carried with him into society, scarcely any description can convey an adequate idea. A gentleman, who had felt and owned its power, speaks thus of it, in a letter to Burns. — " While I recollect with pleasure his extraordinary talents and many amiable qualities, it affords me the greatest consolation, that I am ho- noured with the correspondence of his successor in national simplicitjr and genius. That I\Ir. Burns has refined in the art of poetry, must readily be ad- mitted : but notwitiistanding many favourable repre- sentations, I am yet to learn that he inheriis his con- vivial powers. There was such a richness of conver- sation, such a plenitude of fancy and attraction in him, that, when I call the happy period of our in- tercourse to my memory, I feel myself in a state of delirium. I was, then, younger than him by eight or ten years ; but his manner was so felicitous, that he enraptured every person around him, and infused, into the hearts of the young and old, the spirit and animation which operated on his own mind."* It is but too true, that these great social qualifi- cations alienated him from habits of temperance and sobriety, " without which," as one of his biographers justly remarks, " no character can be proposed as an * Currie's Life of Burns. TART 4.] I 86 LIVES OF EMINENT SCOTSMEN. example worthy of imitation." Yet, much allow- ance surely must be made for the unfortunate cir- cumstances in which Fergusson was placed, which left him, at an age which is a crisis in the lives of all men, without any fixed object of honourable pursuit — as a ship without a rudder, to be tossed to and fro by every passing wind ; much allowance, too, for the sovereign powers of that juice, of which Fergusson has sung as he felt : — whose care-controuling pow'rs Could ev'ry human misery subdue, And wake to sportive joy the leisure hours. That to the languid senses hateful grew." It is also due to the character of Fergusson, to ob- serve, that whatever sacrifices his habits of dissipa- tion involved, that of a spirit of independence was not among the number. " He never disgraced his Muse with the servile strain of panegyric ; he flatter- ed no illiterate peer, nor sacrificed his sincerity, in order to advance his interest." * Such is the lan- guage of a writer, whose testimony, on the subject, I quote the more willingly, that it may serve to coun- teract a harsh and extremely inconsistent assertion of his own, in another place, that Fergusson, when his funds were in an exhausted state, " had re- course to mean and despicable shifts." Had there been even some colour of pretence for the imputa- tion, we might again say to this writer, in his own words, — " Yet over his frailties, let humanity drop a tear; Irving. POETS. — ROBERT FERGUSSON. 87 let his virtues only be remembered, let his vices sink into oblivion.^'* In appreciating the poetical genius of Fergusson, " it ought to be recollected," sajs Dr. Currie, very justly, " that his poems are the etfusions of an irre- gular, though amiable, young man," who " wrote for his amusement, in the intervals of business or dis- sipation." They were all, with very few exceptions, short as the impulses which gave rise to them were momentary ; hit off at once, and sent for publication in the unpolished state in which tliey first came from his pen. " Auld Reikie," the longest of his poems, is almost the only one which was begun on an extend- ed plan. It was originally oiFered as a first Canto ; but never received any important additions. Although, therefore, we must expect to meet, in Fergusson's works, with man}^ instances of crude thought and faulty expression, and, perhaps, with little of that reach of imagination which belongs to vigorous and continued exertion ; yet, if we would describe Fergusson by those qualities by which he will be best recognized by his admirers, we must speak of the ease and sprightliness of his manner, the fide- lity of his delineations of men and manners, the fan- cy with which he has embellished, and the just ob- servation with which he has enriched, them. His best poems are those in the Scottish language. If we except his Last Will and the Codicil, his Epilogue of the Edinburgh Buck, and Verses written at the Her- mitage of Braid, none of his English productions rise * Life of Fergusson. — Original Edition, p. 35. I 2 88 LIVES OF EMINENT SCOTSMEN. above mediocrity. It would seem, however> that this arose less from a want of a perfect acquaintance with the English language, as many passages which may rank witli the purest specimens of English classic poetry serve to shew ; than from his having preferred his native tongue for most of his happier themes, and particularly those which n lated to Scottish life and manners. " The popularity of his Scottish poems," says Ir- ving, '* is a strung proof of their intrinsic merit." A stronger could not be wished. " In that part of the island," he adds, " where their beauties can be pro- perly understood and relished, few productions of a similar description have been so universally admired ; they are read by people of every denomination." Dr. Currie, and Dr. Irving after him, consider " The Farmer's Ingle" as the " happiest of all Fergusson's productions." It possesses indeed superior merit, and acquires an additional interest from having undoubt- edly suggested to Bums, the subject of his admirable poem of the Cotter's Saturday Night. The distance between the two poems is, however, great ; and one may be excused for seeking a better comer-stone for Fergusson's poetical reputation, than " The Farmer's Ingle." Bums has surpassed Fergusson in his deli- neation of the rural fireside, for one reason among others, that he knew it better. Fergussscn, who had lived about town and college from his Infancy, was at home in describing the incidents of a town life, such as the Daft Days, the King's Birth Day, the Election, Leith Races, and Tlie Hallow Fair ; but he went from it, when he took a ramble in fanc}^ to " The Farmer's Ingle," where he had never been but a passing visitor. Perhaps no better proof of this could be adduced than POETS. — ROBERT FERGUSSON. 89 the Tact, that Fergusson, in attempting a picture of the incidents which fill up tlie evening hours under the roof of a Scottish farmer, should have omitted a circumstance so peculiarly characteristic of this walk in life, and of which Burns has made so sublime a use, as the performance of evening worship. This pious and excellent practice had begun to be much ne- glected in our towns, even in Fergusson's time ; but was then, as it is now, very generally observed by the inhabitants of the country, particularly those of the western counties. " O Scotland I much I love thy tranquil dales ; But most on Sabbath eve, when low the sun Slants through the upland copse, 'tis my delight. Wandering, and stopping oft, to hear the song Of kindred praise arise from humble roofs." Grahame. Had Fergusson often passed his nights under such roofs, it is scarcely conceivable that this " simple service," the source of so many pleasing and poetic reflections, would not have found a place among his reminiscences : the want of it forms a great deficiency in the poem, and would alone be a sufficient reason fur not regarding " The Farmer s Ingle" as " the happiest of all his productions." " Hame Content," a satire, and " Leith Races," are either of tliem well entitled to take the precedence of "The Farmer's Ingle." They surpass it both in melody of numbers and in gaiety of fancy, and are not inferior to it in circumstantiality of painting. In all his works, Fergusson has nothing finer than the 90 LIVES OF EMINENT SCOTSMEN, concluding verses of the one poem, and the initial stanzas of the other. In " Hame Content," the author, after ridiculing those who fly to foreign climes in quest of pleasure, breaks out into the following delightful vindication of the poetical and rural charms of his own beloved Scotia : " The Amo and the Tiber, lang Hae run full clear in Roman sang ; But, save the rev'rence of the schools ! They're baith but lifeless dowy pools. Dought they compare \vi' bonny Tweed, As clear as ony lammer-bead ? Or are their shores mair sweet or gay Than Fortha's haughs, or banks o' Tay ? Tho' there the herds can jink the show'rs, 'JMang thriving vines and myrtle bow'rs. And blaw the reed to kittle strains, "While echo's tongue commends their pains ; Like our's, they canna warm the heart Wi' simple saft bewitching art. On Leader haughs and Yarrow braes. Arcadian herds ^vad tyne their lays. To hear the mair melodious sounds That live on our poetic grounds. Come, Fancy, come and let us tread The simmer flow'ry velvet bed. And a' your springs delightfu' lowse, On Tweeda's banks, or Cowden knows. That, taen wi' thy enchanting sang, Our Scottish lads may round ye thrang, Sae pleas'd, they'll never fash again To court you on Italian plain ; POETS.— ROBERT FERGUSSON. 91 Soon will they guess ye only wear The simple garb o' Nature here ; Mair comely far, and fair to sight. Whan in her easy cleething dight. Than in disguise ye was before On Tiber's or on Arno's shore. O Bangour ! * now the hills and dales Nae mair gie back thy tender tales ! The birks on Yarrow now deplore Thy mournfu' muse has left the shore : Near what bright burn or crystal spring. Did you your winsome whistle hing ? The muse shall there, wi' wat'ry e'e, Gie the dunk swaird a tear for thee ; And Yarrow's genius, dowy dame ! Shall there forget her blude-strain'd stream. On thy sad grave to seek repose, Wha' moum'd her fate, condol'd her woes." In the poem of " Leith Races," as well as that of *' The Farmer's Ingle," Fergusson has the honour of having Burns for an imitator. The commencement of the Holy Fair is as close a copy of the opening stanzas of "Leith Races," as can well be conceived ; indeed, none but a genius, bold in its own strength, could have ventured on such an appropriation. Fergusson thus commences : " In July month, ae bonny morn. Whan Nature's rokelay green Was spread o'er ilka rigg o' com, * Hamilton of Bangour. 92 LIVES OF EMINENT SCOTSMEN* To charm our roving e'en ; Glowring about, I saw a quean, The fairest 'neath the lift. Her een were o' the siller sheen, Her skin like snawy drift, Sae white that day." The Nymph having accosted him, he thus re- joins : " And wha are ye, my winsome dear. That takes the gate sae early ? Whare do 3-e win, gin ane may speir ? For I right mickle ferly. That sic braw buskit laughing lass, Her bonny blinks should gie, An' loup, like Hebe, o'er the grass. As wanton and as free, Frae dule this day. " I dwall araang the caller springs. That weet the Land o' Cakes, An' aften tune my canty strings. At bridals and late wakes. They ca' me Mirth ; I ne'er was kcnd To grumble, or look sour ; But blyth wad be a lift to lend, Gif ye wad sey my pow'r. An' pith, this day." " A bargain be 't, and by my fegs, Gif ye will be my mate, Wi' you I'll screw the cheery pegs. Ye shanna find me blate j POETS.— ROBERT FERGUSSOX. 93 We'll reel and ramble thro' the sands, And jeer wi' a' we meet, Nor hip the daft and gleesonic bands. That fill Edina's sheet, Sac thrang this day." The following is the exordium of the " Holy Fair :" " Upon a simmer Sunday morn, When Nature's face is fair, I walked forth to view the corn. An' snufF the caller air. The rising sun o'erGalston muirs, Wi' gforious light was glintin ; The hares w ere hirplin down the furs, The lav'rocks they war chantin, Fu' sweet that day. As lightsomely I glowr'd abroad. To SPG a scene sae gaj', Three hizzies, early at the road. Cam skelpin up the way ; Twa had manteeles o' dolefu' black. But ane wi' lyart lining, The third that gaed a wee a back. Was in the fashion shining, Fu' gay that day, &c." Nor can it be said, that, in this instance. Burns has improved on his model ; the superiority lies de- cidedly with Fergusson. The " Mutual Complaint of Plainstanes and Cause- way," another piece of great merit by Fergusson, appears also to have given Burns the idea of his poem of the Twa Brigs. The manner in which he 94 LIVES OF EMINENT SCOTSMEN. establishes the personification of the two imaginary interlocutors, presents a happy specimen of his faci- lity of invention, and that satirical humour which more or less penades all his poems. " Since Merlin laid Auld Reikie's causeway, And made her o' his wark right sauc3', The spacious street and plainstanes, Were never heard to crack but anes, Whilk happened in the hinder night. Whan Eraser's ulie tint its light : Of Highland sentries, nane were waukin. To hear their cronies glibly taukin : For them this wonder might hae rotten, And, like night robb'ry, been forgotten, Had na a cadie, wi' his lanthom. Been gleg enough to hear them bant'rin, Wha cam to me neist morning early. To gie me tidings o' this ferly. Ye tauntin loons, trow this nae joke. For anes the ass of Balaam spoke. Better than lawyers do forsooth. For it spake naething but the truth ; Whether they follow its example. You'll ken best w ban you hear the sample." That Bums should have taken the works of Fer- gusson so often for his guide, is as high a tribute as perhaps ever was paid to their merit. The Bard of Coila has indeed candidly acknowledged, in a letter to Dr. Moore, that he had nearly abandoned poetr^', Avhen, in his twenty -third year having become ac- quainted with the works of Fergusson, he " strung anew his wildly-sounding lyre, with emulating vigor." POETS. — ROBERT FERGUSSON. 95 It has been observed as somewhat remarkable, that Fergusson, though peculiarly distinguished for the harmony of his voice and the delicacy of his ear, never paid any serious attention to song writing. — Burns was the favorite child, for whom the Muses had reserved this department ; and Fergusson, in sympathetic obedience to their decree, attempted not to trespass upon it. His mind was probably of too quick and epigrammatic a turn to fall into that simple flow of impasssioned feeling which constitutes the essence of song writing. In all the works of Fergusson, indeed, the effect aimed at and produced, is rather to please the fancy than touch the heart. In his Ode to the Bee, he has himself supplied us with the genuine character of his Muse : " Like thee, by fancy wing'd, the Muse Scuds ear' and heartsome o'er the dews, Fu' vogie and fu' blyth to crap The winsome flow'rs frae A'^ature's lap ; Twining her living garlands there, That lyart time can ne'er impair." D. C. 96 LIVES OF EMINENT SCOTSMEN. WILLIAM JULIUS MICKLE. William Julius Mickle was bom at Langholm, in Dumfrieshire, on the 29th of Sept. 1734. He was the third son of the Rev. Alex. 3Iickle, minister of Langholm, who had been previously a preacher among the dissenters in London ; and superintended the translation of Bayle's Dictionary, to which he is said to have contributed the greater part of the addition- al notes. William Julius was educated along with his brothers at the grammar school of Langholm, and like almost all distinguished poets, is said to have early be- trayed indications of his being bom of the fraternity. He loved to read poetry, and like Pope was enchanted with Spenser ; nor could he resist a natural impulse to imitate the object of his admiration. Nothing is extant however to shew that he established any claim to rank with Windsor's bard, among les enfam celebres ; and it may be presumed, that the produc- tions of Mickle's boyhood were in no respect supe- rior to the common run of puerile compositions. Mr. Mickle, the father, becoming aged and infirm, he obtained the permission of his presbytery to resign the active duties of his parish to an assistant ; and re- moved to Edinburgh for the better education of his family, which was numerous. William, whose ele- mentary education had not been completed, was sent to the high school of Edinburgh, where he attained POETS.— WILLIAM JULIUS MICKLE. 97 a competent proficiency in both the Latin and Greek languages. Two years after the Rev. Mr. JMickle came to re- side at Edinburgh, his brother-in-law, a brewer in the neighbourhood of that city, died ; and Mr. Mickle embarked the chief part of his fortune in the purchase of the brewery, the business of which he continued in the name of his eldest son. William Julius, now in his fifteenth year, was also taken from school to be employed as a clerk in the establishment. He re- mained in this situation till his twenty-first year, when an arrangement was made by which the whole charge and property of the brewery were transferred to him, on condition of granting his father a share of the profits during his life, and paying a certain sum to his brothers and sisters, at stated periods, after his father's decease, which happened within three years after. Family considerations, more than any inclination for trade, are said to have induced Mickle to fall in with this plan of life. Although he liad left school, not for the university, but the counting-desk, he had continued in private to pursue his literary studies with the greatest ardour, and has been often heard to de- clare, that before he was eighteen, he had written two tragedies and half an epic poem ; all of which he consigned to the flames. Nor did the weightier con- cerns which now devolved iipon him, at all estrange him from his favorite studies. Several poetical pieces from his pen appeared from time to time in the Scot's Magazine ; and two of these, one, " On passing through the Parliament Close at Midnight ;" and the other, entitled " Knowledge, an Ode ;" were reprinted PART 4,] K 98 LIVES OF EMINENT SCOTSMEN. in the second volume of Donaldson's Collection of Original Poems, by Scottish Gentlemen. In 1762, he sent to London for publication, an ethic poem, which Mas brought out by Becket, under the title of " Providence, or Arandus and Emilee ;" but without the author's name. The critics were di%'ided in opi- nion as to its merits ; and its success was extremely indifferent. Mickle, not disheartened, wrote a letter to Lord Ly ttelton, esteemed the politest scholar of his time, in which, assuming the name of William More, he begged his lordship's candid opinion of the poem. " It is," he said, " the work of a young man, friendless and unknown ; but were another edition to have the honour of Lord Lyttelton's name at the head of a de- dication, such a pleasure would enable me to put it in a much better dress than what it now appears in." He concluded with requesting, that his lordship's answer might be left for him at a coffee-house in Holborn, where he had directed one of his brothers, then in London, to call for it. While Mickle's visions of poetical renown were thus under a cloud for the moment, something much worse had happened to his worldly concerns. The poet, as may readily be imagined, proved but an indifferent brewer : he left the business to servants, who are said to have abused his confidence, but whose only fault probably was, that they could not do both their master's duty and their own ; and, in addition to the losses which his negligence thus brought upon him, his good nature induced him to become security to a considerable extent for others, who turned out insolvent. Embarrassments thickened, while expe- dients diminished : a bankruptcy became at last in- POETS. — WILLIAM JULIUS MICKLE. 99 evitable ; and, in order to avoid a tlireatened arrest, he was under the painful necessity of leaving his home in the month of April, 1763. On the 8th of May following, Mickle arrived in London, less dejected in spirits, than strong in the hope so natural to a young and vigorous mind, that in this great mart for talent some new line of life would speedily open to him, by which he might yet repair all his losses, discharge his debts, and relieve his fa- mily from the distress in which his failure and the consequent dispersion of the family property must have involved them. Nor did fortune seem to smile adverse. He had the pleasure of finding an answer Avaiting for him, to the letter which he had sent to Lord Lyttelton. It was polite and encouraging. His lordship assured him, that he thought his ge- nius in poetry deserved to be cultivated ; but would not advise fhe republication of the poem without considerable alterations. He declined the offer of a dedication, as a thing likely to be of no use to the author " as nobody minded dedications ;" but sug- gested that it might be of some use, if he were to come and read the poem with his lordship, when they might discourse together upon its merits. In the mean time, he exhorted Mickle to endeavour to acquire greater harmony of versification, and to take care tliat his diction did not loiter into prose, or be- come hard by new phrases or words unauthorised by the usage of good authors. In answer to this con- descending, judicious, and truly friendly letter, Mickle informed his lordship of his real name, and enclosed another specimen of his poetry, entitled " Pollio, an Elegiac Ode, written in a wood uearPvOslin Castle, on K 2 100 LIVES OF EMINENT SCOTSMEN, the death of one of his brothers." His Lordship re- plied, in terras still more flattering than before. He gave it as his opinion, that the Elegy, after a few cor- rections which he would point out, when he had the pleasure of seeing the author, would be as perfect as any thing of the kind in the English language. The interview here sought for took place in the month of February, 1764. His lordship received Mickle with the utmost politeness and affability, begged him not to be discouraged at such difficulties as every young author must expect to encounter, but to cultivate his very promising poetical poweis ; adding, with his ha- bitual condescension, that he would become his schoolmaster. Mickle, with Lord Lyttelton for his patron and preceptor, thought his fortune, as a man of letters, now made. After several other interviews and many excel- lent lessons in the poetic art from his lordship, Mickle hinted a wish to send forth a volume to the world ; and he submitted, for his lordship's liual approval, the pieces which he designed should compose the volume, namely, "Providence"greatIy amended since its first appearance, " Pollio," and " An Elegy on Mary Queen of Scots." Lord Lyttelton communicated his judgement on this projected volume, in a long letter to Mickle ; in which, after much praise of the first two pieces, and pointing out some emendations of which they were susceptible, he declined criticising any part of the Elegy on Mary, because he wholly disapproved of the subject. He thought, that poetry should not con- secrate what history must condemn ; and, in tlie %"iew which his lordship had taken of the history of Mary, be thought her entitled to pity, but not to prnise. POETS.— WILLIAM JULIUS MICKLE. 101 Micklc bcnved with submission to his lordship's opinion ; and, after a short time, sent him another copy of " Providence," improved according to his suggestions, as also an " Ode on May Day," which he hoped, his lordship would deem fit to supply the place of the Elegy v/hich he had rejected. The manuscript of "Providence" was returned by the noble critic, so marked and blotted as to be scarcely any longer legible. What opinion he expressed of the new Ode does not appear, but it was, in all pro- babilit}^ equally unfavourable, for, from this moment, the whole scheme of publication fell to the ground. Despairing of ever pleasing his fastidious patron, Mickle abandoned the attempt 5 and no volume of" poems ever appeared. To Mickle, this was a severe blow. He had been now two years about town, without any other means of subsistence, than the scanty remuneration which he received for some occasional contributions to the Magazines, and some remittances from his brothers ; always looking forward, and leading his friends to look forward, to the publication of the projected volume, as the means of extricating him from his difficulties, and giving him that name in the world, Avhich would lead ultimately to independence. The favourable opinion of a critic of such rank and repu- tation as Lord Lyttelton, and his active influence with his friends, could not have failed to usher the work prosperously into the world ; but Avhen, af- ter relying so confidently on both, he found him- self assured of neither, it is not surprising, that, part- ly in disgust and partly in despair, he should have thrown aside his reed till some happier day. K 3 102 LIVES OF EMINENT SCOTSMEN. It now occurred to Mickle, that, although he had not been able to please Lord Lyttelton as a poet, he must, at least, have acquired such a place in his good opinion, that his lordship would be happy to exert his influence, to procure for him some civil or com- mercial appointment. He waited on his lordship, and said, that he had resolved to go and push his for- tune in the West Indies ; and requested his lord- ship's recommendation to his brother, William Henry Lyttelton, Esq., who was, at that time. Governor of Jamaica. His lordship expressed great readiness to assist his views ; but intimated, that a recommen- dation to his brother would be of no real use, as the Governor's patronage Avas generally bespoke long before vacancies took place. Jamaica, besides, was not, in his opinion, the place for a man of Mickle's abilities ; England was the theatre on which he was formed to shine ; but here again, unfortunately, his lordship could only give him his good wishes, for his lordship, being in opposition, could ask no fa- vours. In the East Indies, he thought, his influence might be of some service ; but, indeed, he could not, as a friend, advise Mickle to leave London, where he hoped soon to see his " Odes " published, the sale of which he would aid with his good opinion. Thus closed a very mortifying interview, from which Mickle retired, with a conviction, which every one must be ready to share with him, that whatever interest Lord Lyttelton might once have taken in his welfare, it had now subsided into a sentiment of the politest indifference. Mickle, however, uhile he abandoned all hopes from his lordship's patronage, betrayed no coarse resentment at the treatment which POETS.— WILLIAM JULIUS MICKLE. 103 he had experienced, but conthiued to speak in the most respectful manner of the advantages which he had derived from his critical lessons. To this, he was probably induced, as much by prudential con- siderations as by his real feelings on the subject. For, although no one can well approve of that ex- treme fastidiousness which Lord Lyttelton displayed witli respect to Mickle's poetry ; a fastidiousness, which seems to have been indulged quite as much for the gratification of the noble critic's own taste, asfor the benefit of the author, whose situation may be likened to that of the statuary of old, who sunk to the ground from want, while the Mecaenas of his day was amus- ing himself with discovering specks in the marble of a piece destined to "enchant the world ;" although the courtesy, which first invited and then trifled with the confidence of one, whose success in life was dependant on the issue, was, to say the least of it, inconsiderate ; yet, so high did Lord Lyttelton's ge- neral character stand for good feeling, correct judge- ment, and literary discrimination, that to have pro- claimed a quarrel with his lordship, would have ex- cited against the oflxast from his friendship an un- conquerable prejudice in all the world beside. In justice to his lordship too, it must be remarked, that over all the circumstances which might have palliated or justified his conduct towards Mickle, an impenetra- ble veil is cast. We know, neither how nmch his pa- tience may have been tried by the stubborn vanity of a young author ; nor how much his sense of inde- pendence may have been offended by the want of self- exertion manifest in the whole of IMickle's dangling on his lordship. We are in no certainty, that his 104 LIVES OF EMINENT SCOTSMEN. lordship was apprised of the full extent of Mickle's necessities ; and still less are we sure, that the re- quest, which w as made in earnest, for a recommenda- tion to his lordship's brother, had not all the air of a fit of spleen, brought on b}" the blotted state in which Mickle's manuscripts had been returned to hini. There was doubtless, as in all cases, faults on both sides ; Mickle may have hoped for too much, and Lyttelton may have done less than it was in his power, and he was fairly called upon, to do. Mickle's prospects were now so overcast, that, hear- ing that the situation of corrector to the Clarendon Press at Oxford was vacant, he was content to offer himself as a candidate, and having succeeded in obtain- ing the appointment, he removed thither in 1765. Dur- ing the same year, he published " PoUio,*' the elegy which had been so much commended by Lord Lyttel- ton; and two years after, "The Concubine," a poem in two cantos, in the manner of Spenser. The former did not attract much notice, but nothing could be more flattering than the reception of the latter. It appeared, at first, anonymously •, and while it re- mained so, was ascribed successively to some of the most eminent poets of the day. In a short time, it went through three editions. A desire of gaining a name in the scholastic society in which he now mingled, for something more to their taste than mere poetry, appears to have withdrawn Mickle for a time from the service of the Muses. A Dr. Har^vood had published a new " Translation of the New Testament," which, if we may adopt the account given of it by those whom it od'ended, was so verj- foolish that it was " scarcely POETS.— WILLIAM JULIUS MICKLE. 105 possible to read it with gravity." The task of ex- posing this self-exposed translation of the most serious of all books, was that by which Mickle essayed to procure for himself the character of a scholar. He published a pamphlet, entitled, " A Letter to Doctor Harwood, wherein some of his evasive glosses, false translations, and blundering criticisms, in support of the Arian heresy, contained in his liberal translation of the New Testament, are pointed out and confuted.'' The production was well fitted to please those for whem it was specially intended. It lashed the Arian with as much severity, as if, instead of the most foolish, he had been one of the most formidable an- tagonists, the Church had ever encountered ; and it maintained pertinaciously the coraprehensibility of points of faith, which it is not permitted us to com- prehend. All this was so much after the usual fa- shion of religious controversialists, that it scarcely required the addition of what is less common with them, a respectable share of learning, and considerable skill in argument, to make the Corrector of the Cla- rendon Press hailed as a powerful auxiliary, by those whose side he espoused. His letter was called a Defence of Christianity, and it was probably as much so as one-half of the publications which go by that name; but, in reality, it was nothing more than an abusive attack on a man of singular opinions, who, by all accounts, only deserved to be laughed at. Mickle took a better way, soon after, of evincing his attachment to revealed religion, by writing, "Vol- taire in the Shades, or Dialogues on the Deistical Controversy." The work shewed all the warmth of 106 LIVES OF EMINENT SCOTSMEN. a sincere believer, and no small felicity in exposing the sophistries of the enemies of the faith. Yet. after all, these polemical exercises were but unprofitable digressions from the true path of his genius. The faith was in no want of defenders, while the Muses could ill spare the tribute due from so favourite a son. It was with pleasure, therefore, his friends saw his return to their service announced by the appearance, in 1771, of proposals for printing by subscription, a translation of the Lusiad of Camoens, by W. J. Mickle. He had, it appeared, long revolved this important design in his mind, and had fully pre- pared himself for its execution, by acquiring an inti- mate knowledge of the Portuguese language and his- try. The " Lusiad" had hitherto received from the public most unmerited neglect ; and from Voltaire, Kaimes, and other critics, who derived their know- ledge of it through very faulty translations, great injustice ; but it appeared to Mickle, as he has since made it appear lo the world, one of the first— perhaps the very first — of modern epic poems. " Camoens," says Mickle, " was tlie first genuine and successful poet who wooed the modern Epic Muse, and she gave him the wreath of a first lover : A sort of Epic poetry unheard of before ; or, as Voltaire calls it, une nouvelle esptce d' Epopee. And the grandest subject it jis (of profane history) which the world has ever beheld. — A voyage esteemed too great for man to dare ; the adventures of this voyage, through unknown oceans deemed unnavigablc ; the Eastern world happily dis- covered, and for ever indissolubly joined and given to the Western ; the grand Portuguese empire in the POETS.— WILLIAM JULIUS MICKLE. 107 East founded ; the huraanization of mankind and universal commerce the consequence ! What are the adventures of an old fabulous hero's arrival in Britain j what are Greece and Latiura, in arms for a woman, compared to this ! Troy is in ashes, and even the Roman empire is no more : but the eflFects of the voyage, ad ventures J and bravery of the hero of the Lu- siad, will be felt and beheld, and perhaps increase in importance, while the world shall remain." — " Al- though the subject of Camoens," he again remarks, with great truth, " be particularly interesting to his countrymen, it has also the peculiar happiness to be the poem of fevery trading nation. It is the Epic poem of the birth of Commerce ; and in a particular manner, the Epic poem of that country, which has (now) the control and possession of the commerce of India." The only English version which had been made of the Lusiad was that of Richard Fanshaw, published during the usurpation of Cromwell, for whom he was ambassador at Lisbon. It conveyed, however, but a ■wretched idea of the original, and had been the means of misleading both Voltaire and Kaimes, who knew Camoens only through this disguised medium. In consequence of rendering stanza for stanza, it had the appearance of being exceedingly literal, but was in fact exceedingly unfaithful. Uncountenanced by his original, Fanshaw " teems with many a dead born jest." Nor had he the least idea of the dignity of the epic style, or of the true spirit of poetical translation. Literal translation of poetry, as Mickle well ob- 108 LIVES OF EMINENT SCOTSMEN. serves, " is in reality a solecism. You may construe your author indeed, but if, with some translators, you boast that you have left your author to speak for himself, that you have neither added nor diminished, you have in reality grossly abused him and deceived yourself. Your literal translation can have no claim to the original felicities of expression, the energy, ele- gance, and fire of the original poetry. It may bear indeed a resemblance, but such a one as a corpse in the sepulchre bears to the former man, when he mov- ed in the bloom and vigor of life. Nee verbum verbo curabis reddere, fides Interpres was the taste of the Augustan age. None but a poet can translate a poet. The freedom which this pre- cept gives will, therefore, in a poet's hands not only infuse the energy, elegance, and fire of his author's poetry into his own version, but will give it also the spirit of an original." Such were the views with which Mickle ventured on the important task of presenting the Lusiad in a new dress to the English public. There was much boldness and candour in his avowal of them ; but no one could be offended with a writer, for shewing that he had a proper understandiug of the task which he had undertaken. After issuing his proposals for the translation, Mickle sent a small specimen of tlie liftli book, to be inserted in the Gentleman's Magazine, in which it ap- peared March, 1771 ; and a few months after he printed at Oxford the whole of the first book. These specimens met with so much approbation from the literary world, and his list of subscribers J POETS.— WILLIAM JULIUS MICKLE. 109 filled so rapidly, that Mickle felt encouraged to give up his time entirely to the completion of the work. With this view he relinquished his situation at the Clarendon Press, and went to reside with Mr. Tom- kins, a farmer at Forest Hill, about five miles from Oxford. The subscriptions for the work, being after the good old fashion paid in advance, he was placed at ease as to his expenses during this retirement, and thus enabled to reap the fullest advantage from the leisure and quiet which it afforded. Among the persons who interested themselves most in the success of the work, Mickle has expressed his particular obligations to the ingenious Mr. Magel- lan, of the family of the celebrated navigator ; to many Portuguese gentlemen who obliged him with books and information ; to Governor Johnstone, " whose ancestors had been the hereditary patrons of the ancestors of the translator," and to whom " in a great measure, the appearance of the Lusiad in Eng- lish is due." " And while thus," to continue in his own words, " he recollects with pleasure the names of many gentlemen from whom he has received assis- tance or encouragement, he is happy to be enabled to add Dr. Johnson to the number of those, whose kindness for the man and good wishes for the trans- lation call for his sincerest gratitude." Nor has he omitted a due tribute to the memory of Dr. Gold- smith. He saw a part of the version, but did not live to receive the thanks of the translator. But though, previous to publication, Mickle was thus aided by the countenance of so many individuals of eminence and weight, he confesses that he was not without his fears for the sale of the work. He thought, PART 4.] L 110 LIVES OF EMINENT SCOTSMEN, that though the age was auspicious to Science and the Arts, " Poetry was neitlier the general taste, nor the fashionable favourite of the times ;" and he quotes Goldsmith to shew, that, in a country verging to the extremes of refinement. Painting and Music at first rival Poetry, and at length supplant her. How little ground there was for supposing that England had reached tiiat state in the time of Mickle, let the many admirable poems which have appeared within the half century which has since elapsed ; let the growing avidity of the public for poetry, and their yet incipient taste for other fine arts, attest. To lament the times in w hich wc live, as worse than all that have gone before them, is one of the common-place freaks of morbid sensibility ; and Mickle, it would appear, was not entirely exempt from it. While the translation of the Lusiad was in progress, Mickle, to avoid the langour incident to uniformity of occupation, made several stray excursions with the Muses. In 1772 he formed that collection of fugi- tive poetry, which was published in four volumes by George Pearch, bookseller, as a continuation of Dod- sley's collection, and contributed to it, from his own pen, the " Elegy on Mary Queen of Scots," and " Hengistand Mey," a ballad. He sent also several other occasional pieces, both in prose and verse, to the periodical publications. It has been asserted [Gent. Mag. vol. LXI. p. 402.] that Mr. Evans em- ployed him to fabricate some of the old ballads con- tained in his collection; but the charge, thus coarsely made, dwindles on investigation into the harmless cir- cumstance of his being the author of one ballad of great beauty in that collection, called " Cumnor Hall," POETS. — WILLIAM JULIUS MICKLE. Ill which liad no other pretence to antiquity about it, than, that it was in the spelling of Queen Elizabeth's period. It is a poetical version of the interesting legend preserved in Ashmole's History of Berkshire, respecting the tragic fate of the lady of the celebrated Earl of Leicester, the favourite of Queen Elizabeth. As the ballad from the scarcity of Evans's work is little known, and as it furnishes us incidentally with a very happy specimen of Mickie's poetical powers, its repetition here will not, it is hoped, be deemed out of place. In the following copy, the antique spelling is dropped. CUMNOR HALL. The dews of Summer night did fall. The moon, sweet regent of the sky, Silver'd the walls of Cumnor Hall, And many an oak that grew thereby. Now, nought was heard beneath the skies. The sounds of busy life were still. Save an unhappy lady's sighs, That issued from that lonely pile. " Leicester," she cried, " is this the love " That thou so oft hast sworn to me ? " To leave me in this lonely grove, " Immur'd in shameful privity ? " No more thou com'st with lover's speed, ** Thy once beloved bride to see ; " But, be she alive, or be she dead, " I fear, stern Earl's the same to thee. l2 112 LIVES OF EMINENT SCOTSMEN. " Not so the usage 1 received, " When happy in my father's hall ; " No faithless husband then me grieved, " No chilling fears did me appal. " I rose up with the cheerful morn, " No lark more blythe, no flow'r more gay ; " And like the bird that haunts the morn, " So merrily sung the live long day. " If that my beauty is but small, " Among court ladies all despised ; " Why didst thou rend it from that hall, " Where, scornful Earl, it well was prized ? " And when you first to me made suit, " How fair I was, you oft would say ! " And, proud of conquest — pluck'd the fruit, " Then left the blossom to decay. " Yes, now, neglected and despis'd, " The rose is pale, the lily's dead ; " But he that once their charms so priz'd, " Is, sure, the cause those charms are fled. " For know, when sickening grief doth prey, " And tender love's repaid with scorn, " The sweetest beauty will decay — " What flow'ret can endure the storm ? " At court, I'm told, is beauty's throne, " Where every lady's passing rare ; ". That eastern flowers, that shame the sun, " Are not so glowing — not so fair. " Then, Earl, why didst thou leave the beds " Where roses and where lilies vie, POETS. — WILLIAM JULIUS MICKLE. 113 *' To seek a primrose, whose pale shades " Must sicken when those gaudcs are by ? " 'Mong rural beauties, I was one : " Among the fields, wild flowers are fair. " Some country swain might me have won, " And thought my beauty passing rare. " But, Leicester, or I much am wrong, " Or 'tis not beauty lures thy vows ; " Rather ambition's gilded crown, " Makes thee forget thy humble spouse. " Then, Leicester, why, again I plead, " (The injured surely may repine), " Why didst thou wed a country maid, ' ' When some fair princess might be thine ? " Why didst thou praise my humble charms, " And, oh, then leave them to decay ? " Wh}' didst thou win me to thy arras, " Then leave me to mourn the live-long day ? " The village maidens of the plain " Salute me lowly as they go ; " Envious, they mark my silken train, " Nor think a Countess can have woe. " The simple nymphs ! they little know, " How far more happy 's their estate ; " To smile for joy — than sigh for woe, " To be content — than to be great. *' How far less blest am I than them ! " Daily to pine and waste with care ! " Like the poor plant, that from its stem " Divided, feels the chiHing air. l3 114 LIVES OF EMINENT SCOTSMEN. " Not, cruel Earl ! can I enjoy " The humble charms of solitude ; " Your minions proud, my peace destroy, " By sullen frowns, or pratings rude. " Last night, as sad, I chanc'd to stray, " The village death-bell smote my ear ; " They wink'd aside and seemed to say, " Countess, prepare — thy end is near. " And now, while happy peasants sleep, " Here I sit lonely and forlorn, " No one to soothe me as I weep, " Save Philomel on yonder thorn. " My spirits flag, my hopes decay, " Still that dread death-bell smites my ear, " And many a boding seems to say, " Countess, prepare — thy end is near." Thus, sore and sad, that lady griev'd. In Cumnor Hall, so lone and drear ; And many a heartfelt sigh she heav'd. And let fall many a bitter tear. And ere the dawn of day appear 'd. In Cumnor Hall, so lone and drear. Full many a piercing scream was heard, And many a cry of mortal fear. The death-bell thrice was heard to ring. An aerial voice m as heard to call. And thrice the raven flapp'd its wings Around the tow'rs of Cumnor Hall. The mastiflf howl'd at village door. The oaks were shatter'd on the green : VOETS. — WILLIAM JULIUS MICKLE. 115 Woe was the hour, for never more That hapless Countess e'er was seen. And, in that manor, now no more Is cheerful feast and sprightly ball ; For ever, since that dreary hour. Have spirits haunted Cumnor Hall. The village maids, with fearful glance. Avoid the ancient moss-grown wall. Nor ever lead the merry dance Among the groves of Cumnor Hall. Full many a traveller oft hath sigh'd. And pensive wept the Coimtess' fall, As wandering onwards, they 've espied The haunted tow'rs of Cumnor Hall. In 1775, the entire translation of the Lusiad at length made its appearance, in a quarto volume, print- ed at Oxford. To illustrate the poem and vindicate its importance, the author prefixed ; first, an Intro- duction, refuting the opinion of those theorists in political philosophy, who lament that either of the Indies was ever discovered, and who assert, that com- merce is only the parent of degeneracy and the nurse of vice ; second, a History of the Discovery of India ; third, a History of the Rise and Fall of the Portu- guese Empire in the East; fourth, a Life of Camoens ; and lastly, a Dissertation on the Lusiad, and Obser- servations upon Epic Poetry. The text of the poem was also enriched with many learned and copious notes. The volume was, by the advice of his friend. Com- modore Johnston, dedicated to the then Duke of 116 LIVES OF EMINENT SCOTSMEN. Buccleugh, a nobleman universally esteemed for his liberal support of every eflort calculated to promote the honour or advantage of bis country. But either from the work not being properly brought under the Duke's notice, or from some other unexplained cause, it drew forth no mark of favour to the author ; and Mickle, with less prudence than he evinced on h's estrangement from Lord Lyttelton, resented the ne- glect by suppressing the dedication to his Grace in all the subsequent editions. With the world, the conduct of a nobleman of such honourable reputation as the Duke of Buccleugh was sure to be open to a thousand favourable explanations ; but only one thing could be inferred, from the mode which the author took of expressing his resentment, namely', that he had been induced to dedicate the work to his Grace, in the hope of some -reward, which he was angry he did not get. Although this is pretty much the case with most dedications, it is not usual to be so plain in avowing it. The approbation which the work received from the public, at ail times the best patrons, was such as to make ample amends for this instance of patrician neglect. The first edition of the Lusiad, consisting of a thousand copies, had so rapid a sale, that a se- cond was called for in June, 1778. The author era- braced the opportunity of making considerable amend- ments ; and added to the notes, a whole treatise on the religious tenets and philosophy of the Brahmins. Sooii after the first publication of the Lusiad, Mickle had been advised, bj^ his friends, to try his ta- lents on a Tragedy. The subject which he chose was " the Siege of Marseilles," in the reign of Fran- POETS. — WILLIAM JULIUS MICKLE. 117 cis the First. The piece being completed, it was offered to Garrick for representation. The answer returned, was in the usual style of managerial refu- sals. The " Siege of Marseilles had great merit as a poem, but it w anted stage effect." It was not, however, absolutely rejected, but referred to a sort of Committee of Revision, consisting of the two War- tons, and Home, the author of Douglas. In com- pliance with their opinion, Mickle made great alte- rations upon it ; and thus amended, Thomas Warton recommended it in the most earnest manner to Gar- rick. Mr. James Boswell also exerted all his influ- ence with Garrick to procure a favourable decision. " Permit me now," said he, in a letter to Garrick, "again to recommend to your patronage, Mr. Mickle 's tragedy ; which, I rejoice to hear, has now passed through the hands of both the Wartons. By encouraging Mickle, you will cherish a very worthy man, and I really think, a true poetical genius. Let me add, that your goodness to him will be an addi- tional obligation to your humble servant ; who will venture to say, that you have never had a warmer and more constant, or a bolder admirer and friend at all times, and in all places, than himself ; though you have had multitudes, of greater distinction and abilities. All these things considered, I w ould hope that Mr. Mickle, who has waited Jong in the anti- chamber, will soon be introduced, and not be shoved back by others, who are more bustling and forward." The Roscius was, however, not to be won over. He still continued fixed in his opinion, that the Tra- gedy would not succeed on the slage ; and finally declined having any thing to do with it. 118 LIVES OF EMINENT SCOTSMEN. Mickle -was greatly irritated at the obstinacy of Gamck, and being informed by some officious per- son, that he had followed his refusal by some expres- sions of personal disrespect, he became so enraged, as to threaten to write a new Dunciad, of which Garrick should be the hero. His friend, Mr. Bos- well, remonstrated with him upon the folly of the attempt, but he was slow to be dissuaded. "As to Garrick's being out of shot reach," said he, in a letter to Mr. B. " let me conjure you not to be of- fended with me if I tell you, that our opinions dis- agree. His great abilities, as an actor, are indispu- table, but in every other respect he is one of the people. I have the happiness to be acquainted with some, the greatest part of the literati of England, and to a man, they despise him as a critic and author. I have heard a name at which Garrick would tremble, talk with ineffable contempt of his Jeu de Theatre, — and the pieces he brings on the stage. When I told the name now mentioned, that I would attack Garrick's taste, through the sides of the trash he has brought on the stage, 'there,' said he, * is a broad MARK, and you will hurt him.' " Other friends, more considerate than this one, at whose name Garrick would have trembled, joined with Mr. Boswell in deprecating an attack, which, though it might do injury to Mr. Garrick, could bring no benefit to Mr. Mickle ; and overcome, at length, by their representations, he gave his scheme of resent- ment to the winds. In 1778, he published a new and amended edition of his popular poem of " the Concubine," to which he now gave the name of" Sir Martyn," as the origi- POETS. — WILLIAM JULIUS MICKLE. 119 iial title had been found to convey a very erroneous idea both of the subject and spirit of the poem. Notwithstanding the success of his literary adven- tures, Mickle was still dependent on the continued exertion of his pen for the means of existence. He had received nearly a thousand pounds for the Lusiad, but all of that sum which he could spare from his im- mediate necessities he appropriated to the payment of his debts and the maintenance of his sisters. Being thus without any regular provision for the future, his friends endeavoured, about this time, but inelFectu- ally, to procure him a pension from the Crown as a man of letters. * It is said, tliat Dr. Lowth, the bishop of London, made an offer of providing for him in the church ; but that Mickle declined the offer, lest his uniform support of revealed religion should be imputed to interested motives. According to another authority, he declined entering into orders, because a clerical life was not suited to his disposition ; * and as this explanation involves no such extraordinary re- finement of feeling as the other, it is that which plain minds will probably prefer. In 1799, he published a pamphlet, entitled " a candid Examination of the reasons for depriving the East India Company of its charter, &c. ; with Stric- tures on some of the self-contradictions and histo- rical errors of Dr. Adam Smith, in his reasons for the abolition of the said company." In the montii of May if the same year, his steady friend Commodore Johnston, being appointed to the * Anderson. 120 LIVES OF EMINENT SCOTSMEN, command of the Rom ncy man of war, and Commodore of a small squadron which was destined for the Tagus, he immediately nominated Mickle to be his Secretary, in order that he might participate in the good fortune that might ensue from prizes captured on that station. The pleasure w ith which he accepted of this appoint- ment, was much enhanced by the prospect which it gave him of visiting the native shores of his favourite Camoens, whither the fame of his translation had already reached. In November 1779, he arrived at Lisbon, and was instantly sought after and treated with every possible mark of respect by the principal nobility, gentry, and literati cf Portugal. The Royal Academy of Portugal elected him a member of their body, and Prince John, Duke of Braganza, who presided on the occasion, presented him with his portrait, as a token of his particular regard. Vy'hile he remained at Lisbon, the pursership of the Brilliant became vacant, and the Commodore, determined to lose no opportunity of making the fortune of his ingenious friend, appointed JMickle to the situation. After a year's absence, the squadron returned to England, and iMickle was appointed to remain at London as joint agent, for the disposal of a number of valuable prizes taken during the expedition. The profits from the whole of this maritime ad- venture were such as made Mickle independent for life. They enabled him to discharge all his remain- ing debts in Scotland, and to make a suitable pro- vision for such of tiie members of his family as still looked up to him for support. These duties discharged, he thought he might now without reproach fulfil POETS. — WILLIAM JULIUS MICKLE. 121 others of a tenderer nature. He repaired to Fo- rest Hill, and married Mary the daughter of Mr. Robert Tomkins, with whom he resided while trans- lating the Lusiad ; and, with the object of his affec- tions, he obtained a considerable addition to his for- tune. Mickle now took a house at Wheatly near Oxford, Avith the view of passing there the remainder of his days in comfort and ease ; but the failure and death of a banker, with whom he was connected as agent for the prizes, and a chancery suit, to which he was driven for recovery of part of his wife's fortune, in- volved him in several heavy losses, and completely broke in upon that tranquility on which he had fondly reckoned. He still however employed his pen on occasional subjects. In 1782, he published " The Prophecy of Queen Emma," a ballad, with an ironical preface, containing an account of its pretended au- thor, and discovery and hints for vindicating the authenticity of the poems of Ossian and Rowley. He also contributed a series of Essays, entitled, " the Fragments of Leo," and some other articles, to the European Magazine. His last production was " Esk- dale Braes," a song written by the desire of a friend, in commemoration of the place of his birth. Mr. Mickle died after a short illness at Forest Hill, on the 20th of October, 1788, in the fifty-fifth year of his age, and was buried in the church yard of that parish. He left one son, for whose benefit a collection of his father's poems was published by sub- scription, in one volume quarto. The personal character of Mickle has been very clearly drawn by two writers. " His manners," says PART 4,] M 122 LIVES OF EMINENT SCOTSMEN. Mr. Ireland, " were not of that obtrusive kind, by which many men of the second or third order force themselves into notice. A very close observer might have passed many hours in Mr. JMickle's company, without suspecting that he had ever written a line of poetry. A common physiognomist would have said, that he had an unmasked face. Lavater would have said otherwise ; but neither his countenance nor manners were such as attract the multitude, When his name was once announced, he has been more than once asked if the translator of Camoens was any relation to him ? To this he usually answered, with a good natured smile, that they were of the same fa- mily. Simplicity, unaffected simplicity, was the leading feature of his character. The philosophy of Voltaire and David Hume was his detestation. He could not hear dieir names with temper. For the bible he had the highest reverence, and never sat silent when the doctrines or precepts of the Gospel were cither ridiculed, or spoken of with contempt." " Mickle," says Mr. Isaac Reed, was " in every point of view a man of the utmost integrity, warm in his friendship, and indignant only against vice, irreligion, or meanness. The compliment paid by Lord L3'ttel- ton to Thomson, might be applied to him witli the strictest truth : not a line is to be found in his works, which, " dying, he would wish to blot." During the greatest part of his life, he endured the pressure of a narrow fortune without repining, never relaxing in his industry to acquire, by honest exertions, that in- dependence which he at length enjoyed. He did not shine in conversation ; nor would any person from his appearance have been able to form a fa- POETS. — WILLIAM JULIUS MICKLE. 123 vourable judgement of his talents. In every situa- tion in which fortune placed him, he displayed an independent spirit undebased by any meanness, and when his pecuniary circumstances made him on one occasion feel a disappointment with some force, he even then seemed more ashamed at his want of dis- cernment of character, than concerned for his loss. He seemed to entertain, with reluctance, an opinion, that high birth can be united with a sordid mind. He had, however, the satisfaction ofreflecting, thatno ex- travagant panegyric had disgraced his pen. Con- tempt certainly came to his aid, though not soon ; he wished to forget his credulity and never after con- versed on the subject by choice. To conclude, his foibles were but few, and those inoffensive ; his vir- tues were many and his genius was considerable. He lived without reproach, and his memory will always be cherished by those who were acquainted with him." The poetical fame of Mickle seems, in general es- timation, to rest on his being the translator of the Lusiad. For, though his original pieces abound with the strongest evidences of native genius, they fade from our recollection, when we look to the poetic omnipotence with which he has made a poem, the pride of another language, equally the pride of our own. It was his ambition, " to give a Poem that might live in the English language," and he has done so. MicUe^s Liisiad is universally allowed to be only inferior to Popes Iliad, and it already rivals it in popularity. The time is not perhaps far distant when it raaj' be even more generally read. Homer has been highly praised for his judgement in the se- 124 LIVES OF EMINENT SCOTSMEN, lection of a subject which interested his countrymen ; but it certainly is not from the interest he inspires, but simply for the beautj^ of his poetry, that he is read and admired in modern times. When, therefore, such a poem as the English Lusiad comes into the field of competition, a poem which not only possesses all that living interest which the Grecian epic has lost, but is nearly if not fully equal to it in those poetical charms which are " for all time ;" it seems not unreasonable to anticipate, that it will ere long take the lead in po- pularity. Nor conquests fabulous, nor actions vain. The IMuse's pastime, here adorn the strain, Orlando's fury, and Rugero's rage. And all the heroes of th' Adnian page. The dreams of bards surpass'd, the world shall view, And own their boldest fictions maybe true ; Surpass'd and dimm'd by the superior blaze [plays. Of Gama's mighty deeds, which here bright truth dis- Lusiad, Book I. The freedom with which Mickle entered on the task of this translation, he is said to have carried farther than the laws of translation will allow ; but, as has been well remarked, the liberties he has taken are of a kind with which translations cannot usually be charged, for he has often introduced beauties of his own, equal to any that came from the pen of Ca- moens. It is true that he has left the curious reader the trouble of discovering the various deviations of the translations from the original ; but let us listen to his own apology. " Even farther liberties seemed to him in one or two instances advantageous ; but a POETS.— WILLIAM JULIUS MICKLE. 125 minuteness in the mention of these, would not in these pages appear with a good grace. He shall only add, that some of the most eminent of the Portuguese lite- rati, both in England and on the continent, have ap- proved of these freedoms ; and the original is in the hands of the world." (Dissertation on the Lusiad. Third Edition.) Nor is it as a poet alone, that Mickle has done honour to the memory of the poet he has translated. In the critical dissertation prefixed to the work, and in the various notes appended to the text, he has successfully vindicated Camoeus from the numerous misrepresentations, of which, beyond any other writer that ever lived, he has been the object. The English nation may be said to have owed this compensation to the fame of the Lusitanian bard ; for not only did A'^oltaire, as before mentioned, but also Rapin, two of the most violent assailants of the Lusiad, derive their impressions of it from the old and faithless English version of Fanshaw.* Mickle has been no * AVhen Voltaire's Essay on the Epic Poetry of the Eu- ropean Nations, which contains his attack on Camoens, was at the press, in London, he happened to shew a proof sheet of it to Colonel Bladon, the translator of Caesar's Commentaries. The Colonel, who had leen in Portugal, asked him if he had read the Lusiad ? Voltaire confessed he had never seen it, and could not read Portuguese. The Colonel put Fanshaw's translation into his hands, and in less than a fortnight after, Voltaire's lying and slanderous critique made its appearance." 126 LIVES OF EMINENT SCOTSMEN, where happier in his defence of Camoens, than in the raanner in which he repels the charge of indecency, fuhninated with such confidence by Voltaire, that according to him, no nation, except the Portuguese and Italian, could tolerate the scenes described in the Lusiad. " Not to mention Ariosto," sajs Mickle, " whose descriptions will often admit of no palliation, Tasso, Spenser, and Milton, have always been esteemed as the chastest of poets ; yet, in the delicacy of warm description — the inartificial modesty of nature — none of them can boast the continued uniformity of the Portuguese poet. Though there is a warmth in the colouring of Camoens, which even the genius of Tasso has not reached ; and though the island of Armida is evidently copied from the Lusiad ; yet those, who are possessed of the finer feelings, will easily discover an essential difference between the love scenes of the two poets — a diflference greatly in favour of the delicacy of the former. Though the nymphs, in Camoens, are detected naked, in the woods and in the streams, and though desirous to captivate, still their behaviour is that of the virgin who hopes to be the spouse. They act the part of offended modesty : even when they yield, they are silent ; and behave in every respect like Milton's Eve, in the state of innocence, who '• what was honour knew — " And who displayed ** Her virtue and the conscience of her worth, That would be wooed, and not unsought be won." I POETS.— WILLIAM JULIUS MICKLE. 127 To sura up all, the nuptial sanctity draws its hallow- ed curtains, and a masterly allegory shuts up the love scenes of Camoens." "In a word," he adds, " so unjust is the censure of Voltaire ; a censure which never arose from a com- parison of Camoens with other poets, and so ill- groi'.nded is the charge against him, that we cannot but admire his superior delicacy ; a delicacy not even understood in his age, when the grossest ima- gery often found a place in the pulpits of their most pious divines. We know what liberties were taken by the politest writers of the Augustan age ; and such is the change of manners, that Shakespeare and Spenser might, with justice, appeal from the judgement of the present, when it condemns them for indecency. Camoens, however, may appeal to the most polished age ; let him be heard for himself ; let him be com- pared with others of the first name, and his warmest descriptions need not dread the decision." Let the comparison, however, we may add, be made in the version of Mickle, in which the fire of Camoens will be found to burn so pure, that he might almost say, — Virginibus puerisque canto. M. M. 128 LIVES OF EMINENT SCOTSMEN. DR. GEDDES. Alexander Geddes was born in the year 1737. He was the son of a small farmer at Arradowl in the parish of Ruthven and county of Banff, and of Janet IMitchell, a native of Nether Dallacby in the parish of Bellay. His parents were of the Roman Catholic religion, and, among the few books which they pos- sessed, the most rare to persons of their denomination, was a copy of the vulgar English bible. As soon as young Geddes had been taught to read, by a village schoolmistress of the name of Sellar, he took great delight in perusing this family' bible, and before he had reached his eleventh year, he is said to have known all its history by heart. The Laird of Arradowl having engaged a student from Aberdeen, of the name of Shearer, to be domes- tic tutor to his two sons, he looked about among his neighbours for two or three boys of the most pro- mising parts, who might be admitted to a gratuitous participation in the lessons given to his sons — a noble example, well worthy of imitation by men of opulence in every village throughout the kingdom. Geddes was one of three on whom his generous selection fell ; and a-second was his cousin, John Geddes, afterwards Bishop of Marrocco, or titular Bishop of Dunkeld. At the age of fourteen, Geddes, through the influ- ence of the same worthy individual, A\as admitted POETS. — DR. GEDDES. 129 into the academy of Scalan, in the Highlands, a free Roman Catholic seminar}-, intended for the prepara- tory instruction of such young men of that persuasion as are afterwards to be qualified for holy orders in some foreign university. Never was a seminary better fitted, by its natural situation, to be a nursery for young monks, than Scalan. It lay in a lone dell, so overtopped by lofty mountains, as to require almost as perpetual a use of the lamp, as the subterranean cell of Demosthenes. Of the gloom in which it was involved, an idea may be formed from the following reply of Geddes, to one of his fellow students, who had obtained leave to pay a visit to his friends at a distance, and who asked him if he had any commands he could execute ? " Pra}', be so kind," replied Geddes, " as to make particular enquiries after the health of the Sun : fail not to pre- sent my compliments to him, and tell him, I still hope I shall one day be able to renew the honour of a per- sonal acquaintance with him." In this seminary, he added, to a knowledge of the bible in the vulgar English, a knowledge of it in the vulgar Latin ; but beyond this, he appears to have gained little by seven years' long exclusion from the light. On attaining the age of twenty-one, Geddes was removed to the Scotch College at Paris, of which the worthy Mr. Gordon was then principal. Here he completed his knowledge of the Latin language, and added a competent acquaintance with the Hebrew, Greek, French, Spanish, German, and Low Dutch. School divinity and biblical criticism were, however, the chief objects which occupied his attention. He 130 LIVES OF EMINENT SCOTSMEN, had now an opportunity, of which he assiduously availed himself, of enriching his knowledge of the bible, by a close acquaintance with the originals ; and was soon able to mark where the difference lay, be- tween the Latin of St. Jerome, and the English of King James's translators. " I had both versions/' says he, " constantly before me ; and I now discover- ed the cause of the great difference between them. The study of the English translators, I found, had been to give a strictly literal version, at the expense of almost every other consideration ; while the author of the Vulgate had endeavoured to render his originals equivalently into such Latin as was current in his age. If e%er I translate the bible, said I, then it must be after this manner." The scheme of a new translation of the bible had in fact already taken full possession of his mind. The partiality which he had accidentally acquired under his father's roof, for the study of its sacred pages, had been so nursed and strengthened by every circumstance in his subsequent education, that it was now become the master passion, from which all the rest of his life was fated to take its complexion and character. After an absence of six years, he returned to Scot- land, in 1764. He was immediately ordered by his ecclesiastical superior to fix his residence at Dundee as an officiating priest to the Catholics of the distrin of Angus. But he was scarcely settled here, when the Earl ofTraquair, a Catholic nobleman, invited him to become an inmate in his family ; and to his Lord- ship's seat, on the pastoral banks of the Tweed, hr accordingly removed in May, 1765. "Here, says he, " I had plenty of time and a toleral '■ POETS.— DR. GEDDES. 131 library, to enable me to coniinue ray favourite study. The ancient versions in the Poly glott were now alter- nately read and occasionally compared ; and from this lecture and comparison, I was every day more and more satisfied, that a verbal version of the bible is not the most proper to convey its meaning and display its beauties." When he had resided upwards of a twelvemonth in the hospitable mansion of Lord Traquair, he was reluctantly compelled to tear himself away from the pleasures which it afforded, by an interesting cir- cmnstaiice, of which Mv. Good gives the following particulars : * " A female relation of the noble Earl was at that time a co-resident in the house, and constituted a part of the family. The merit of Mr. Geddes was pro- minent ; her own charms, and the regard she openly professed for him, were not less so : too soon he felt himself the prey of an impression, which he well knew it was not possible for him to indulge, and BuxtorfF was in danger of being supplanted by Ovid. He turned philosopher, but it was in vain ; self expostu- lation was useless ; and the well-meditated resolutions of a day were often put to flight in a moment. But one step remained to be taken : he embraced it, and with more hardihood than is often necessary to obtain a victory, sounded a retreat. He had made, perhaps too hastily. Ids vow of religious celibacy, and its sanctity was not to be trifled with. Of two evils, he had still the consolation to think, that he had chosen the least ; and, with much reluctance of heart, but an approving and sustaining conscience, he abruptly broke away from the delightful shades and the more delightful conversations of Tweedale, in less 132 LIVES OF EMINENT SCOTSMEN, than two je?irs after his arrival there; and, leavinu behind him a beautiful but confidential little poem, entitled, "The Confessional," addressed to the fair yet innocent author of his misfortunes, he once more took leave of his native countr}'. and tried to forget himself amidst the greater varieties and volatilities of Paris." After remaining in the French metropolis about nine months, during which, he made a variety of valuable extracts on biblical criticism from the public libraries, he returned to his native country in the spring of 1769. He was now appointed to the charge of a catholic congregation at Auchinhalrig, in the county of Banff, not far distant from the place of his birth. It was an uninviting charge ; the peo- ple poor and bigoted ; the chapel in ruins ; and the parsonage-house scarcely inhabitable. Mr. Geddcs, however, was not of a spirit to be disheartened by the most formidable obstacles. He lost no time in pulling the old chapel down and erecting a new one in its place ; he repaired find improved the parsonage- house, so as to render it one of the most pleasant and convenient in the country. He not only super- intended tliese labours, but bore a part in them him- self ; for Geddes, though most of his time had been spent over books, was as ready a carpenter, and as expert in the use of tlie saw and plane, as if he had been professedly brought up to the trade. As good a gardener too as he was a carpenter, he added to the house tlie luxury of an excellent garden ; from the abundance of which he contributed liberally to the wants of his flock. POETS.— DR. GEDDES. 133 "— — dapibus mensas oneravjt inemptis." Virg, Georg. " He pil'd their tables with unpurchas'd stores." " Gardening and carpentering," says Mr. Good, " were at all times favourite amusements with him ; they constituted liis chief relaxation from the severity of study to the last moment of his life ; and I have fre- quently rallied him, when at work, upon the multi- plicity of his tools, which, in the article of planes of dili'erent mouldings, were more numerous than those of many professed artists, and at the dexterity with which he handled them." In order to soften down that bigotry for which the people of Auchinhalrig were remarkable even as Roman Catholics, Mr. Geddes made it his first study to win their affections. In this he succeeded so effectually, that he seemed at last, to use the ex- pression of one who was intimately acquainted with liim at the period, " to live in the hearts of every one of his hearers." His personal kindness to them was inexhaustible ; his attention to the duties of his office, punctilious ; the people venerated while they loved him. The lessons of a man so regarded could not fail of making a deep and lasting impression. They were lessons of liberality and brotherly love. He exhorted his hearers to think for themselves, and to allow, without hostility, the same privilege to others. He disclaimed the old fashioned and iniquitous doc- trine, that faith ought not to be held with heretics, as altogether foreign to the spirit of genuine catholi- city ; and earnestly and unceasingly recommended PART 4.] N 134 LIVES OF EMINENT SCOTSMEN. charity unto all men, as one of the first of Christian virtues. Such precepts, and such conduct, lessened greatly, if it did not entirely remove, that rigid disinclination to associate, which had hitherto operated as a wall of partition between the Catholics of Auchinhalrig and their Protestant neighbours ; while they recom- mended JMr. Geddes to many invaluable friendships among the most distinguished characters of the latter persuasion. Among these, may be enumerated the Earl of Buchan, Lord Findlater, Principal Robert- son, Dr. Beattie, Dr. Reid, and, indeed, almost all the professors both of Edinburgh and Aberdeen. But while Mr. Geddes had thus the pleasure of melting into Christian charity many of the hearts of his own congregation, he had the mortification to find, that his conduct only provoked the resentment of his clerical brethren. Bishop Hay, his diocesan, menaced him with suspension from his ecclesiastical functions, unless he became more circumspect in his life and conversation, and kept himself uncontami- naled by heretical intercourse. The chief delin- quency with which he was charged, was his occa- sh)nal appearance in the church of a Protestant friend, Mr. Crawford, the worthy minister of an adjoining parish. After some epistolary correspondence, ia which Geddes is said to have hurled defiance at the narrow-minded prelate, the affair was suffered to drop. Nor was this the only unpleasant circumstance which arose to disturb his tranquility. He had per- sonally contracted debts to a considerable amount, in rebuilding the Chapel and repairing the Parson- POETS.— DR. GEDDES. 135 nge-House, in the confidence of being enabled to discharge them by subsequent contributions from per- sons of the Catholic persuasion. The creditors, how- ever, became importunate before there was any ap- pearance of the expected succours ; and Mr. Geddes was beginning to suftcr all the pains of pecuniary em- barrassment, when the late Duke of Norfolk stepped forward in a very generous manner to his relief. His Grace, who occasionally resided on a large fa- mily estate on the Scottish borders, had heard of the zeal, liberality, and learning of the priest of Auchin- halrig, and expressed a wish for his acquaintance. An interview was brought about through the friendly intervention of the Earl of Traquair ; and, upon the first intimation of the obligations which Mr. Geddes had come under in his pastoral capacity, his Grace was pleased to claim the privilege of discharging them, as an earnest of their future friendship. Although relieved from every pecuniary distress, Mr. Geddes derived too scanty an income from his congregation not to feel many deprivations. In the hope of improving his circumstances, he took a small farm at Enzie in Fochabers, in the immediate vicinity of Auchinhalrig ; and being accommodated by a friend with a sufllicient loan of money to stock it, he commenced farmer with an ardour of expectation, only to be accounted for on the score of extreme sim- plicity. So certain did he feel of speedily realizing an independent fortune, through the natural fertility of his fields and the proverbial certainty of the sea- sons, that he began with what people burdened with affluence generally leave to the last, — building a cha- pel as an appendage to bis farm. He erected, almost N 2 136 LIVES OF EMINENT SCOTSMEN, entirely on his own credit, a very neat and corarao- dious place of public worihip close by his farm- house : and commenced otficiating alternately here and at Auchinhalrig. The end of this second speculation needs scarcely to be told. His fields did not prove so productive, nor the seasons so auspicious, as he was sure they would be ; his farm stock and his chapel remained both unpaid for ; and in less than three years, he found himself in a state of embarrassment still greater than that from which the Duke of Norfolk had res- cued him. The mode which Mr. Geddes took of getting out of his difficulties on the present occasion, must seem, at first sight, almost as wise as that by which he fell into them. To be brought to the brink of ruin by farming and kirk-building, and to be saved from it by turning poetaster, must be allowed to be rather out of the usual course of events. " Foiled," says Mr. Good, •' in the labours of the hand, he was determi- ned to try whether those of the head might not be more productive." Tlie experiment was attended with a degree of success, which perhaps surprised no one more than himself. In 1779, he published, at London, " Select Satires of Horace, translated into English verse, and, for the most part, adapted to the present Times and Manners." These satires were not altogether the production of the present moment of exigency ; they had occasionally occupied his previous leisure, and been gradually accumulating to the date of their publication. " Early in life," saj's he, in a short preface by which they were ushered into the world, " some demon whispered me that I POETS. — DR. GEDDES. 137 had a turn for poetry. I readily, perhaps too readily, believed him. 1 wrote, was pleased with my produc- tions, and now began to publish them in hopes of pleasing others." The publication succeeded so well, that it produced him a profit of about one hundred pounds. He gladly applied this sum to the liquida- tion of his debts, and being fortunate enough to re- ceive additional assistance from other quarters, which he directed to the same object, he once more found himself freed from difficulties, in which the ardour and simplicity of his nature had involved him. About this time. Lord Findlater having married the daughter' of Count Murray, of JNIelgum, Mr. Geddes was employed to instruct the fair bride in the English language, with which a foreign education had left her unacquainted. At the mansion of his lord- ship, he formed an intimate friendship with the Rev. Mr. Buchanan, minister of Cullen, and did not hesi- tate occasionally to attend the church in which he officiated. The indignation of Bishop Hay w as again excited by a knowledge of this circumstance : he sent an angry expostulation to Geddes ; and finding that no attention was paid to it, he actually proceeded to suspend him from the exercise of his clerical func- tions. Mr. Geddes felt but little regret at this illiberal proceeding ; for ever since the success which his sa- tires had experienced, he had formed in his mind the resolution of trying his fortune in London, and had only been prevented from executing his scheme by the warmth of his attachment to his spiritual flock. The tie between them was, however, now broken by a power which neither could controul. Towards the 138 LIVES OF EMINENT SCOTSMEN, end of 1779, he took an atfectionate leave of his ls\ o congregations ; " and such," says Mr. Good, " was the enthusiastic regard with which his courteousness, his kindness, his perpetual attention to the duties of his office, and especially to the instruction of the younger branches of his flock, had inspired thera, that at the sale of his household goods, at Enzie, every one pressed forward to testify, by an extrava- gant bidding, his veneration and love, as well as to obtain possession of some monument of a man whose name and character were so justly dear to them. I am told by a lady who was present upon the occa- sion, that the most insignificant articles of furniture, even cups and saucers, though imperfect or broken, were caught at with the utmost avidity, and that the people appeared to prize the different lots thej- were fortunate enough to procure, rather as relics of a pa- tron saint than as memorials of a beloved pastor." The catholics of Auchinhalrig and Fochabers were not the only individuals who saw, with regret, the de- parture of Geddes from his native country. To his literary friends of the protestant communion in Aber- deen, he had become equally endeared ; and through their influence, the University of that city stepped forwards with a liberality highly to its honour, and conferred on I\lr. Geddes the degree of Doctor of Laws. Dr. Geddes now left Enzie ; devoted a few weeks to visits of personal friendship ; and, in company with Lord Traquair, arrived at London in the begin- nmg of the year 1780. Through the influence of that excellent nobleman, he w as almost immediately- appointed to be officiating priest in the Imperial Am- POETS.— DR. GKDDES. 139 bassador's chapel. His own literary fame, and the numerous complimentary letters which he brought with him from his friends in the north, soon intro- duced him to an acquaintance with many of the first English scholars of the day ; and from the unrestrain- ed use of several public and private libraries which he found thrown open to him, he was led to resume, with renewed ardour, his early project of accomplish- ing a new translation of the Bible. The undertaking might still, however, have languished for want of all the requisite means, had he not had the good fortune to meet with a most munificent patron for it, in the late Lord Petre? The want of a good vernacular ver- sion of the Scriptures, for the use of English catho- lics, was an evil which had been long lamented by Lord Petre ; and hearing that Dr. Geddes entertained the project of supplying one, he sought an interview with him. The explanation which ensued proved so satisfactory to his lordship, that, with a puhlic spirit and generosity rarely equalled, he engaged to allow Dr. Geddes a salary of two hundred pounds per an- num, while employed upon the translation, and to be at the expense of whatever private library the doctor might think requisite for the purpose, leaving him in this respect totally unlimited. Dr. Geddes, elated with this munificent provision, entered with extraordinary ardour upon the active prosecution of his favourite design. In a short time, he published a sketch of the plan on which he meant to proceed, under the title of an " Idea of a new Version of the Holy Bible, for the use of the English Catholics." " Finding," he said, " sacred criticism in a favourable progress towards perfection ; having be- 140 LIVES OF EMINENT SCOTSMEN, fore me the various readings of texts of Scripture, and the several versions made from them with a biblical apparatus (through the princely munificence of Lord Petre), which few individuals possess ; grieved besides, to observe among the English Catholics an almost total want of taste for biblical studies ; and wishing to remove a reproach, which, in Protestant literary companies, I had often heard made on that account — a reproach, too well founded to be repelled ; I thouglit I could not better serve the cause of Christianity in general, nor better consult the particular interest of that body to which I more immediately belonged, than by employing whatever portion of talents had fallen to my share, in attempting a new and faithful translation of the Bible, from corrected texts of the original, unaccompanied with any gloss, commentary, or annotations, but such as were necessary to ascer- tain the literal meaning of my text ; and free of every sort of interpretation calculated to establish or defend any particular system of religious credence." At the close of 1780, the Imperial Ambassador's chapel was suppressed by an order from the Emperor Joseph the Second. Dr. Geddes continued, however, to preach occasionally at the chapel in Duke-street, Lincoln's Inn Fields, till the Easter holidays of 1781^, when, finding that it interfered with the progress of his translation, he voluntarily withdrew from every stated ministerial function, and seldom officiated in any chapel whatever. In the summer of 1781, Dr. Geddes paid a visit to Scotland, during which he wrote " Linton, a Tweedale Pastoral," in honor of the birth of a son and heir to the noble house of Traquair. According to an ancient POETS. — DR. GEDDES. 14 prophecy of Thomas of Lermont, when an eagle should be the offspring of a raven and a rook, joyful tidings were to arise for " the bonny men of Twee- dale;" and this popular impression Gcddes availed him- self of very happily on the present occasion. The rook constituted the crest in the armorial bearings of the Traquaires; and his friend and patron the Earl, having married into the family of the Kavenscrofts, in whose arms the raven holds a chief place, the poet hailed in the offspring of this alliance, the eagle predicted by the prophet, on whose arrival at majority, the " bonny men of Tweedale" would be in full possession of the golden days of Skturn ; when war, and discord, and domestic strife, And all the other woes of human life. Death, famine, plague, mortality, shall cease, And all be iiealth, and harmony, and peace. No more religion, with fanatic hand, Shall fan the fire of faction in the land ; But mild and gentle, like her heavenly sire. No other flames but those of love inspire. Papist and Protestant shall strive to raise. In different notes, one Great Creator's praise ; Polemic volumes, on their shelves shall rot, And Hays and Abernethies be forgot. The Earl and Countess of Traquair having resolved to make a tour to the South of France, Dr. Geddes was invited, and agreed with much pleasure to be their companion on the journey. From France he returned to Scotland, and from Scotland to London, now burning wldi impatience to resume his theolo- 142 LIVES OF EMINENT SCOTSMEN. gical pursuits, and accomplish the great object of las life, the new translation of the Bible. About this period, a fortunate accident introduced him to the ac- quaintance of the celebrated Dr. Kennicolt, to whom he had hardlj- made known his design, " when," says the doctor, " he anticipated my wishes to have his advice and assistance towards the execution of it, with a degree of unreserved frankness and friendship which I had never before experienced in a stranger. Not contented with applauding and encouraging me him- self, he pushed me forwards from ray obscurity to the notice of others ; he spoke of me to Barrington, he introduced me to Lowth." To Lowth, Bishop of London, " one of the most elegant scholars and first biblical critics of the age." At the suggestion of Dr. Lowth, Geddes revised his " Idea of a new version," or rather wrote an entirely new prospectus, detailing fully and explicitly the plan w^hich he proposed to follow in his translation. When it was completed, he submitted it in manuscript to his lordship's inspection, requesting that he would mark Avith a black theta, such passages as might appear exceptionable. The Bishop returned the manuscript with an answer highly grati- fying to the feelings of the author : " The Bishop of London presents his compliments to Dr. Geddes, and returns with thanks his prospectus, which he has read with some care and attention, and with the fullest approbation: he finds no room for black thetas ; and he doubts not but that it will give general satisfaction. He cannot help wishing that Dr. Geddes wo'.ld publish it; it would not only answer the design of introducing his work, but would really be a useful and edifying treatise for young students in Divinity" POETS DR. (iEDDES. 143 The Prospectus did, accordingly, make its ap- pearance in the course of next year, under the follow- ing title : " Prospectus of a New Translation of the Holy Bihle, from corrected Texts of the Originals compared with the ancient Versions, witii various Readings, explanatory Notes, and critical Observa- tions." It had a very general and satisfactory cir- culation. Not only were praises liberally bestowed, but valuable communications were imparted from dif- ferent quarters of the kingdom, and even from fo- reign countries, i he work was briefly, but elegantly, dedicated to his patron. Lord Petre, " as the first fruits of many years of powerful labour, in the pleas- ing hope of being able one da3'- to lay before him the whole harvest." On the first of November, 1785, the Society of Antiquaries of Scotland elected Dr. Gedd.s one of their correspondent members, an honour which he acknowledged in a poetical epistle to that respectable body ; written in " geud aid Scottis phrase." " It was " he says, " the hastj- production of a very few leisure hours ; when, after being exhausted with the incredible labour of collating a Greek manuscript, I sat down, towards the close of the day, to a solitary meal, and amused myself in trying how far I could give to the dialect of my native country an air of no- velty and elegance that might not displease even a critical English reader." To have been so com- posed, the poem shews great powers of versification. It extends to nearly five-hundred lines, and contains not a few passages of genuine poetry. The autlusr is particularly happy in a personiiication of our " JMi- ther Tonsjue," as 144 LIVES OF EMINENT SCOTSMEN. " A gentlewoman bred and bom. thoch in tatters drest And who, though now neglected by the great. Still has found an open door Amang the uncorruptit poor. There aft on ben-maist bink she sits, And sliarps the edge of country wits, WV routh of gabby saws an\says. An' jokes an' jibes of ither days : That gie sik gust to rustic sport And gar the langsome night look short. At uther times in some warm neuk She to the cutchok hads a beuk And reids in sik a magic tone. The deeds that our forbeirs hae done, That ye ***** May see the maiden stap her wheel. The mistress cease to turn the reel ; Lizzie wi' laddie in her hand Til pot boil over, gapand stand : Ev'n hungry Gib his spoon depose And for a moment, spare bis brose !" Dr. Geddes afterwards contributed to this society, " A Dissertation on the Scots Saxon dialect," ami two otlier poems, being translations of the fiiit Eclo- gue of Virgil and the first Idillion of Theocritus, into Scottish verse. The whole of these produciions are to be found in the only volume of transactions which the society lias yet published. POETS. — DR. GEDDES. 146 Dr. Geddes had now made considerable progress with his translation of the Bible ; but, instead of flying precipitately to the press, he determined to avail himself of the general and ardent inclination to assist him which appeared to prevail in the literary world, and with laudable modesty he once more ad- dressed the public, through the medium of" A Letter to the Right Rev. the Bishop of London, containing queries, doubts, and difficulties relative to a vernacu- lar version of the Holy Scriptures." It was a sort of appendix to his prospectus, and met with equal success. During the year 1787, Dr. Geddes published, " A letter to the Rev. Dr. Priestley, in which the author at- tempts to prove, by one prescriptive argument, that the Divinity of Jesus Christ was a primitive tenet of Christianity." How far the Doctor was right in his doctrine, I have no curiosity to enquire. I am con- tent to find that he did not abandon for the charac- ter of a polemic, any of his amiable feelings as a man. The sentiments with which he takes leave of his op- ponent, present an example for all controversialists. "I cannot," he says, " allow myself to believe, that the divinity of Jesus will ever be without defenders, or that its ablest defenders will not be Englishmen; but, let its defenders be mild and moderate ; let them imitate the conduct of him, whose cause they undertake to plead ; let not their zeal, however fer- vent, transport them beyond the bounds of decency and decorum ; their style will not be the less nervous, because it is void of asperity ; nor their arguments the less conclusive because unmixt with injuries. To discover Truth is professedly the aim of us all ; let PART 4,] o 146 LIVES OF EMINENT SCOTSMEN. us pursue the path that seems the most likely to lead us to her abode, with ardour but not with animosity ; and if we are convinced that we have been happy enough . to find it out, let us not insult those w ho, in our esti- mation, may have been les successful. Non contu- meliis et probris vexemus alii alios ; sed honeste positis- qiie prajudiciis, causam decemimus." About this period, (1787-8) the Protestant Dissen- ters made their celebrated application to Parliament, for a repeal of the Test Act, and their claims were advocated in a very popular pamphlet published anonymously, entitled, *' The Case of the Protestant Dissenters, with reference to the Test and Corpora- tion Acts." Dr. Geddes published also anonymously a letter upon the " Case of the Protestant Dissenters addressed to a Member of Parliament. The object of it was to shew, in opposition to the author of the Case, that the Protestants were not, as they pretend, includ- ed for a temporary and dissimulative purpose, within the operation of the disqualifying acts, but that they had been at all times as truly obnoxious to govern- ment as papists, and, that allowing any evil to be ap- prehended from a general repeal of such statutes, go- vernment would have more to dread from the ma- chinations of the former than of the latter. On the commencement of the Analytical Review in May 1788, Dr. Geddes was induced to take the principal charge of that department, which includes biblical criticism and ecclesiastical history. The first article with which this journal opens, being a critique on the Vari(E Leciiones of De Rossi, was from the Doctor's pen. He continued connected with it for five years and a half; during which period, he is POETS.— DR. GEDDES. 147 known to have contributed forty seven articles. He accompanied the Review throughout its best days, and it declined in sale from the moment that he with- drew from it. In the course of 1788, Dr. Geddes thought his labours sufficiently advanced, to warrant another and a more explicit address to the public, upon the great object of his pursuits. He had already published his " Idea of a new version," his " Prospectus of a version ;" his " Doubts, queries, &c. relative to a new version ;" and he now added to this formidable array of preparation, " Proposals for printing by subscrip- tion a new ve/sion, &c." Having stated in his proposals that if any respecta- ble literary character would suggest hints for improve- ment, or point out sources of information, with res- pect to the plan and execution of his work, he would receive them with thankfulness, and consider them with due attention, he soon found himself so over- whelmed with packets of correspondence that he thought proper, in July, 1790, to publish, " Dr. Geddes's general answer to the queries, councils, and criticisms, that have been communicated to him since the publication of his proposals for printing a new translation of the Bible." In the controversy which broke out at this period, respecting the application of the English Catholics to the Legislature, for additional relief in the matter of praemunire. Dr. Geddes sided with the Catholic com- mittee in opposition to the bishops, and wrote " An answer to the Bishop of Comana's pastoral letter, by a protesting Catholic :" as also " an Encyclical letter of the bishops of Rama, Aeanthos, and Centuriae, to 02 148 LIVES OF EMINENT SCOTSMEN, the faithful clergy and laity of their respective dis- tricts, with a continued commentary for the use of the vulgar." In 1790, Dr. Geddes pubiislied an " Epistola Maca- ronica ad Fratrem," esteemed by one or t\vo writers the happiest of all his sportive effusions. The subject of it was a recent dinner of the Protestant Dissenters, at the London Tavern, " de iis quae gesta sunt in nnpero Dissentientium Conventu." " The different characters," says Mr. Good," are well caught and de- lineated with good nature rather than severity, and the quaint intermission of Latin and English, of terms classical and vulgar, commencing with one language and terminating in another, of which the grave speeches of the respective orators are composed, combine a greater quantity of burlesque, and consequently afford an ampler portion of merriment, than can ever be derived from the happiest use of the Ansteyan stanza." Mr. Good will probably however remain to future ages singular in this opinion. Perhaps the only pas- sa 158 LIVES OF EMINENT SCOTSMEN. as his embarrassments became known, " it is to the credit,*' says Mr. Good, " of the age in which we live, " that, without any further application on his part, persons of every rank and religious persuasion, Pro- testants and Catholics, clergy and laity, nobility and gentry, several of whom had never known him but by name, and many of whom had openly professed a dislike of his favourite tenets, united in one chari- table effort to. rescue him from anxiety and distress; nor should it be forgotten, that some part, at least, of tlie amount subscribed, proceeded from the Right Reverend Bench itself. The sum collected and ex- pended upon his account, from the commencement of the year 1788, to the middle of the year 1800, amounted to about nine hundred pounds." Dr. Geddes, lightened in heart by this generous interference, now began to prepare for publication, an elaborate work, which he had originally drawn up in 1782, during the riots of Scotland and England, upon the subject of Sir George Savile's bill, in favour of persons professing the Roman Catholic religion; but had suppressed in consequence of the intemper- ance of the times. It was printed in 1800, under the title of " A Modest Apology for the Roman Catholics of Great Britain, addressed to all moderate Protest- ants, particularly to the Members of both Houses of Parliament." It was published anonymously, but Geddes soon became known as the author. It excit- ed great curiosity both at home and abroad, and was translated both into the French and German lan- guages. In 1801, Dr. Geddes was called upon to sustain a loss, in comparison of wliich every loss and disap- POETS.— DR. GEDDES. 159 pointment he had before encountered was light and diminutive, and from the effects of which he never fullj recovered — he lost his patron, Lord Petre, who died suddenly of an attack of the gout, July 2nd, 1801, aged sixty, equally lamented by the lower ranks of life, which he benefited, and the higher, which he adorned. By his last will, his Lordship bequeathed to Dr. Geddes an annuity for life, of one hundred pounds ; and his son and heir shortly after intimated, in a very polite and friendly letter, that to this sum he pro- posed to add a salary of the same amount. Dr. Geddes did not long survive his benefactor. He died of a lingering and excruciating disorder, on the 26th February, 1802, in the sixty -fifth year of his age. The day before his decease, he was visited, as usual, by his friend M. St. Martin, a professor of theology, and a doctor of the Sorbonne", who had officially at- tended him as his priest, during the whole of his ill- ness. On entering the room, M. St. Martin found the doctor extremely lethargic, and believed him to be in the utmost danger ; he endeavoured to rouse him from his torpor, and proposed to him to receive ab- solution. Dr. Geddes observed that in such case it was necessary he should first make his confession. M. St. B^artin was sensible that he had neither strength nor wakefulness enough for such an exertion, and re- plied, that in extremis, this was not necessary ; that he had only to examine the state of his own mind, and to make a sign when he was prepared. M. St. Mar- tin wasa gentleman of mnch liberality of sentiment, but strenuously attached to what are denominated the orthodox tenets of the Catholic church ; he had long r-2 160 LIVES OF EMINENT SCOTSMEN, beheld, with great grief of heart, what he conceived the great aberrations of his ancient friend ; and had flattered himself that, in the case of this last illness, he should be the happy instrument of recalling him tea full belief of every doctrine he had rejected; and with this view, he was actually prepared, upon the present occasion, with a written list of questions, in the hope of obtaining from the Doctor an accurate and satisfactory reply. He found however, from the lethargic state of l3r. Geddes, that this regular pro- cess was impracticable. He could not avoid, never- theless, examining the state of his mind as to several of the more important points upon which they dilFer- ed. " You fully," said he, " believe in the Scriptures ?" He roused himself from his sleep, and said, " Cer- tainly." — " In the doctrine of the Trinity ?" — " Cer- tainly, but not in the manner you mean." — " In the mediation of Jesus Christ ?" — " No, no, no,— not as you mean : in Jesus Christ as our Saviour, — but not in the atonement." Mr. Good enquired of M. St. Martin if, w hether, in the course of what had occurred, he had any reason to suppose that Dr. Geddes's reli- gious creed either now, or in any other period of his illness, had sustained any shade of difference from what he had formerly professed. He replied that he could not possibly flatter himself with believing it had : that the most comfortable words he heard him utter, were, immediately, after a short pause, and before the administration of absolution, " I consent to all," but that to these he could affix no definite meaning. " It would have given me great pleasure," said M. St. Martin, " to have heard him recant ; but I cannot with certainty say, that I perceived the least dispo- POETS DR. GEDDES. 161 sltlon in him to do so, and even the expression, " I consent to all," was either, perhaps, uttered from a wish to oblige me as his friend, or a desire to shorten the conversation, than from any change in his opi- nions. After having thus examined himself, however, for some minutes, he gave a sign of being ready, and received absolution as I had proposed to him. I then left him ; he shook my hand heartily upon quitting him, and said that he was happy he had seen me." Agreeably to his own desire, his remains were in- terred in the church-yard of Paddington, and in a spot which he had himself pointed out, for a reason which presents a striking picture of the whole cha- racter of his mind, and ought for ever to silence ail doubts as to the general sincerity of his Christian belief, however much he may have erred on particu- lar points. " I choose this spot," said he, " that when summoned from my grave, to meet my God on high, the first thing which may strike my sight on looking up, may be that noble inscription in front of the Church, " Glory to God in Heaven, and peace and good-will to men on earth."* A plain marble monument has been erected to his memory by the present Lord Petre, at the outside of the southwest entrance into the church ; and to those who may wish to view the sod beneath which he re- poses, a solitary yew tree, planted by his worth 3' friend, Dr. Calder (now also deceased) will mark out the spot. It is close by the side of the public road. * The inscription on the church is in Greek. 162 LIVES OF EMINENT SCOTSMEN. In his corporeal make Dr. Geddes was slender, but the features of his countenance were large and protruded. " A play of cheerfulness," says Mr. Good, ** beamed uniformly from his cheeks, and his animated eyes darted rather than looked benevolence. Yet, such was the irritability of his nerves, that a slight degree of opposition to his opinions, and espe- cially when advanced by persons whose mental pow- ers did not warrant such opposition, put to flight, in a moment, the natural character of his countenance, and cheerfulness and benevolence were exchanged for exacerbation and tumult." The portrait of Dr. Geddes, which is prefixed to Mr. Good's Memoirs of his Life and Writings, agrees with this description ; but it is an exaggerated likeness. It was taken when the Doctor was in his last illness, and wasted with anguish both of mind and body. A friend happening to call on him the day after he had sat to the painter ; "Do 3'ou know," said the Doctor, " I have been get- ting my likeness taken?" "Ah ! Doctor," observed his friend, " I am afraid it must have been a likeness taken in agony." " Oh, no," rejoined the Doctor with his usual sprightliness, " I sung Latin songs all the time ! " — A very fine portrait of him when in the hey-day of health and spirits is in the possession of Mr. Corner, a gentleman of the Catholic persuasion.* Dr. Geddes was fond of society, and, except when under the influence of high wrought irritability, no * From this portrait the likeness prefixed to the pre- sent work has, with that gentleman's kind permission, been engraved. a. s. POETS.— DR. GEDDES. 163 man possessed more companionable qualities. His anecdote was always ready ; his wit always brilliant ; there was an originality of thought, a shrewdness of remark, an epigrammatic turn of expression in almost every thing which escaped him, that was sure to cap- tivate his companions, and to induce those who had once met him, notwithstanding his habitual infirmity, to wish earnestly to meet him again.* His kindness of heart was constantly displaying itself in acts of benevolence and friendship. The moment he beheld the probability of doing good by liis own exertions, the good was instantly done. As a man of genius and learning Dr. Geddes held deservedly a high rank. That his literary labours took an unfortunate direction, and that his reputa- tion is exposed to a rapid decay from the controver- sial and offensive character of great part of his writings, must, at the same time, be allowed. His effusions in poetry shew, that had he devoted the strength of his faculties to the service of the Muses, instead of wasting them in an obnoxious contention with creeds of faith, his fame might have been as elevated as his happiness would have been pure and unalloyed. Such as they are, they are ratlier to be considered as the relaxations of a severe student than as the com- positions of an author ambitious of distinction. " They discover," as Dr. Ir\^ing remarks, " what might have been effected, but are not sufficiently elaborate to be classed amongst finished compo- sitions. * Mr. Good. 164 LIVES OF EMINENT SCOTSMEN. Beside the more important publications which have been mentioned in the course of this narrative, Dr. Geddes wrote several pamphlets of an ephemeral nature, and many fugitive pieces in prose and verse, In the magazines and newspapers. He left behind him, nearly ready for'publication, " A new Translaiton of the Psalms," which was after- wards edited by Dr. Disne}', and Mr. Butler. It was completed as far as the 11th verse of the 118th Psalm, and at the time of his death, printed olF to the end of the 104th. A translation of the 150th Psalm was also found among his papers. The editors of the work have supplied the intermediate Psalms, from Bishop Wilson's edition. W. M. POETS.— JAMES GRAHAME. 165 JAMES GRAHAME. The Rev. Janies Grahame, author of " The Sabbath" and other poems, was born at Glasgow, on the 22nd. of April, 1765. His father, who was a writer in that city, appears to have been a man of considerable li- terary attainments, of pious habits, and excellent moral character. His mother, who had been brought up in similar principles, was confirmed in her early impressions by the example of her husband, and the united influence of both was well calculated to lay the foundation of those pure sentiments of devotion in the mind of the young poet, which were after- wards to regulate his conduct and awaken his muse. In early youth, Grahame is said to have been of a sprightly disposition, but his vivacity declined as he grew up, and long before that period when the cha- racter is matured by experience, the indications of a reflecting habit were manifest in his deportment and conversation. This sober turn of thought commenced as early as his introduction to the grammar-school of Glasgow, where he received the rudiments of his edu- cation. From the grammar-school, he went to the university of Glasgow, where he soon recommended himself, by his knowledge of the ancient classics, and liis talent for Latin composition, of which he pro- duced a very favorable specimen at the commence- ment of his academical career. With the study of literature and philosophy, he ultimately joined that of civil law, and had the good fortune to obtain the intimate friendship of the professor of that depart- 166 LIVES OF EMINENT SCOTSMEN, ment, the ingenious Dr. James Millar. The branch of knowledge, however, for which young Grahame had always manifested the strongest prepossession, was that of divinity. Admiring it as a study, he was de- sirous to adopt it as a profession ; but the natural anxiety of his father to provide for the temporal in- terests of his son, by a course of life more likely to advance them, induced him, if not to abandon, at least to postpone his own wishes, and to persevere in the study of the law. In 1784, Mr. Grahame was apprenticed to his cousin, Mr. Laurence Hill, Writer to the Signet, Edinburgh, and, at the conclusion of his apprenticeship, became a member of that respectable body, who, under the title of writers to the Signet, conjoin the various oc- cupations which in England are divided among at- torneys, special pleaders, conveyancers, and notaries. In tliis capacity, he might, from his connections in Glasgow, have soon acquired an extensive and lucra- tive business ; but his constitution was weak, and unequal to the close confinement which it required. His very relaxations, being literary, were therefore sedentary, so that the evil was not to be mitigated, except by an entire change of pursuit. Mr. Grahamej accordingly resolved to seek, in the higher labours of the profession, a relief from the more painful drudgery of the writing desk, and was called to the bar on the 10th of March, 1795. JMr. Grahame, however, carried with him to the pro- fession of a barrister, notions which were but little calculated to introduce him into extensive practice. He had an extreme aversion to undertake the advo- cacy of an}- cause which was at variance with his POETS.— JAMES GRAHAME. 167 own notions of equity and justice ; and when its bad- ness was manifest and indisputable, would return the brief and fee. A habit so singular became, as might be expected, the subject of much observation, not ■only among lawyers and clients, but among all per- sons who take an interest in the deviations of specu- lative men. That such a principle might be carried to an extreme, subversive of the very justice which it intended to favour, is a fact admitting no dispute ; but if acted upon with caution, and applied only in cases where the imposture was palpable and gross, it is hard to suppose that any injury could result to society from iti; adoption, by the few individuals upon whom mere morality is likely to have an influence. If causes sometimes find their way into court, with which it is a disgrace to be concerned, occasions must sometimes occur, in which it woijld be an honor to decline a fee. At all events, whatever danger may be apprehended from the practice in a general sense, the pecuniary excitement is always at haiid to resist the innovation, and preserve that system of activity which is most favourable to the purposes of private interest and professional advancement. In March, 1802, Mr. Grahame married Miss Grahame, the eldest daughter of Mr. James Grahame, town-clerk of Annan. In 1804, he published his poem, entitled " The Sabbath,"' the merits of which constitute his chief claim to the remembrance of posterity. The caution with which he endeavoured to provide against disco- very, as the author of this beautiful poem, is still a subject of conversation in the literary circles of Scot- land. He selected a printer, on whose promise of 168 LIVES OF EMINENT SCOTSMEN, secrecy he could perfectly rely, and used to meet him at obscure coffee-houses, in order to correct the proofs, but never twice at the same house, for fear of attracting observation. He even contrived to get the work through the press without the knowledge of his wife or any of his friends ; and it is remarkable, that tlie person who had most reason to feel interested in his success, was the last even to suspect how nearly the author was allied to her. The work rapidly made its popularity ; it was praised in all companies, and Mr. Grahame had the satisfaction of finding, that his wife was among the number of its warmest admirers. It was the pleasure which he derived from the enthu- siasm of her praise upon one of those occasions, that finally prevailed over his determination of conceal- ment. He could hear the public acknowledgement with comparative indifference, but the voice of pri- vate affection was too sweet to be disregarded, and its tribute too valuable to be denied a recompense so entirely at his command. He confessed the sin of authorship, and was furgiven. That he should have been desirous to conceal his name, in the first in- stance, before the fate of his poem could be ascer- tained, was a delicacy, or perhaps a weakness, not difficult to be accounted for in this age of critical asperity ; but that after its merits were admitted, and while its praise was sounding in his ears, he should still have had any desire to remain unknown, is a circumstance which, though perhaps not inexplicable to elevated minds, will doubtless appear extraordinary to the common race of scribblers, who carry personal vanity into all their literary attempts, and shrink from the notion of anonymous industry, as the soul POETS JAMES GRAHAME. 169 shrinks from that of annihilation. The " Sabbath" was followed, at different intervals, with " Sabbath Walks," " Biblical Pictures," " Mis- cellaneous Poems," " British Georgics," " Birds of Scotland," " Rural Calendar," *' The Siege of Co- penhagen," and " Mary Stuart, a tragedy." Whatever benefit Mr. Graharae might have experi- enced from transferring his legal pursuits to the bar, it does not appear that he was yet satisfied with his condition ; for on his father dying, in deference to whose desire alone he had ever embarked in the pro- fession of the law, his first propensity triumphed over every interested motive ; and though his practice was respectable and reputation advancing daily, he again, and for the last time, altered his course of life, re- solving to devote himself thenceforward to the service of religion. The death of his father, whom he had always tenderly loved, was an event which made a strong impression on his feelings ; and the nature of that impression probably contributed, in no slight degree, to confirm him in the resolution he had now taken. When death begins his ravages among those who have been dear to us from childhood, and the foundations of human attachment are about to give way under his irresistible pressure, then it is that the instinct of human vanity receives a shock within us, and the cares of this life dwindle into insignificance and contempt. If such is the lesson inculcated by this awful monitor upon minds in any way accessible to reflection, much more must it have operated on one whose ordinary exercises were contemplative, philosophical, and devout. After spenduig some time at Annan to recruit his PART 4.] Q 170 LIVES OF EMINENT SCOTSMEN, health, which had began to decline most seriously, he proceeded to Chester, and from Chester to London, where he was ordained by the Bishop of Norwich, on the 20th of May, 1809. In the course of the same year, he was appointed to the curacy of Shepton Mayne, in Gloucestershire. The following extract of a letter which he wrote to one of his friends will serve to shew, from his own discriminating pen, what were his fetlings in first entering on the exercise of the holy ministry, and the character of the flock which fell to his charge. " I am now but beginning to feel at home. At first, the wandering backwards and forwards through the prayer-book puzzled me sadly, but now it comes quite easy to rae. I never, except the first minute or two of the first day, felt any embarrassment in the pulpit. This parish is small, so that the duty is ra- ther easy. As to the people, (the labouring classes I mean,) they are rather good, I think ; but they are a dull race, and deplorably ignorant. Hardly one in twenty can write, and more than the half cannot read. The poor are wretchedly poor indeed, though the rich are liberal, and the poor rates by no means light. In religion they are far behind us (the Scotch) — they^ want warmth of devotion. Few of them join in the psalms, and in many churches tliere is no singing at all. The lukewarmness of the people I ascribe very much to the insufiSciency and supineness of the clergy. There are here and there excellent and zealous ministers, but the majority of them are lazy, stupid, and worldly-minded. In the neighbourhood, there are two or three young men, who, in the course of a few years, have done much good. In short, the harvest only wants labourers. With respect to the POETS. — JAMES GRAHAME. 171 gentry, they are both good and agreeable. They read a good deal ; they have excellent and large col- lections of books — they are clever and intelligent — but to me there is a want about them, — they want fire and variety. They are, in short, too rational. " I am here as happy as I can be at a distance from my friends. Our temporalities are not great, but we have many comforts — a tolerable house, two gardens, and a small paddock, besides seven acres for which we pay rent. The church is very ancient and crazy. In the steeple, there are three sweet toned bells and an owl." Some family circumstances requiring his return to Edinburgh, he resigned, in April 1810, the curacy of Shepton Mayne. Soon after his arrival in the Scottish capital, a vacancy occurring in the care of an Epis- copalian chapel of that city, called Saint George's, Mr. Grahame offered himself as a candidate. He was not however successful, and next went to Durham, •where he was engaged to officiate for some time as subcurate of St. Margaret's. Another prospect open- ed at that place which led to another disappointment. A minor Canonry of small emolument became vacant at the expiration of the term for which he was engaged at St. Margaret's, but the Dean in whose gift it was, either knew so little of the talents and virtues of Mr. Grahame, or appreciated them so lightly as claims to his patronage, that he not only refused to appoint him, but kept the canonry vacant to the end of Mr. Grahame's life, though it had been twice rejected in the interval by more favoured individuals. It would be a waste of time and thought to search after the motives of this very reverend personage for such con- q2 172 LIVES OF EMINENT SCOTSMEN. duct, but it were well for the general interests of re- ligion, and the particular interests of the estaMish- ment, that the promotion of real merit was an object of more serious attention with the dignitaries of the Church of England. The same system of favouritism which reflects disgrace on the Politician, cannot surely be creditable to the Divine. Through the interest oflMr.Barrington, the nephew of the Bishop of Durham, he obtained the curacy of Sedgefield, a country parish in the same neighbour- hood, where he commenced his duties on the 1st of May, 1811. It Avas at this place, and probably through the contrivance of the same gentleman, that he had an opportunity of preaching before the Bishop him- self. The Bishop was so favourably' impressed by his eloquence, as to declare his satisfaction in the warmest terms, and to accompany his praise with a promise of preferment. The tide of Grahame's fortune seemed to have turned at last, but it was a temporary and deceitful appearance. There was every reason to suppose, from the character of the worthy Bishop, that the promise made without solicitation would have been realized without delay, if the decline of Mr. Grahame's health had not rendered it necessary for him to retire, at the very moment when perseverance was most likely to be rewarded. Confirmed asthma, ac' companied with violent headache and other acute pains, assuming altogether that malignant aspect of disease which is known by the term of " a complica- tion," obliged him to decline the duties of his office and to visit Edinburgh for medical advice. His com- plaints, however, received no alteration; dissolution was not to be stayed from its last ravages on a con- stitutiou weak by nature, and farther enfeebled by POETS.— JAMES GRAHAME. 173 long protracted illness. Aware of bis approaching end, he was anxious to revisit his native city before he died, and accordingly left Edinburgh for Glasgow on the 9th. of September, but it was his fate to see Glasgow no more. He died on the journey at Whitehill, the residence of his eldest brother, in the forty seventh year of his age, manifesting in his last moments the sincerity of those religious impressions by which his life had been regulated. His death took place on the 14th September, 1811, and he was buried in the same grave with his worthy parents. He left two sons and a daughter. The character of Grahame, whether, drawn from the facts which have been enumerated in his life, or from tlie tenor of his writings, or from the concurrent testi- mony of those who had the happiness of his acquaint- ance, or as is more reasonable from the combination of those separate sources of intelligence, cannot fail of recommending itself to the admirers of virtue. The testimony of acquaintances, though not always free from prejudice, and therefore not always to be de- pended on without the addition of other evidence, forms necessarily an ingredient in the estimate of every character ; for there are a thousand circumstances too minute to strike the distant observer, which are never- theless too important to be overlooked altogether, when we attempt to exhibit a faithful likeness of the human heart. All who knew Mr. Grahame, agree in representing his life under an aspect the most amiable. His manners in the retirement of home were as mild and conciliating, as his principles in the more enlarg- ed relations of societ^^ were liberal and upright. Though not without disappointments which would 174 LIVES OF EMINENT SCOTSMEN. Jiave been sufficient to sour the tempers of other men ; such as, in the first instance, the check imposed upon his favourite inclination by the mistaken poHcy of his father ; subsequently, the want of advancement in the church, after he had entered into its service, an object desirable even in the religious view of extending the sphere of his usefulness ; and lastly the experience which, like most authors of his time, he had of the petulance of critiscism, aggravating by its dicta the difficulties inherent in the nature of devotional poetry, and consequently obstructing his reputation and trifling with his fame ; — though not without the excitement of such provocations, we can neither trace a line of his writings, nor discover a sentence of his conversation, which betray' the slightest acrimony of feeling or impatience of temper. His forbearance in this respect will strike us the more seriously when we remember how many even of our finest Poets have been exasperated beyond the bounds of decent irri- tation, by creatures incapable of inflicting any other injury upon intellects so far above them. This dignity of composure, in the midst of worldly disappoint- ments and literary evils, is chiefly attributable to that religion which formed the basis of his character. Something however is due to the natural constitution of his mind, and perhaps something to that distant hope, which warms the breast of genius under all its adversities, — the hope that at some future day poste- rity will do it justice. Nothing is more easy than to ridicule the solitary scholar, who, in the retirement of his closet, enjoys as it were the conversation and applause of men whom he shall never see ; but if it were not for this brilliant dream of the mind, many of the most glorious monuments of excellence that POETS. — JAMES GRAHAME. 175 now adorn the world, had sunk under the discourage- ments of ignorance and envy. That he must have had his faulty as a man it would be folly to deny, yet, as they never obtruded themselves on observation, common can- doursoeras to forbid that we should draw upon our ima- gination, in the absence of fact, though for the purpose of giving countenance to a rule which it may be readil^r allowed admits of no exception. In proceeding to examine Mr. Grahame's pretensions as a poet, it is difficult to divest ones-self entirely of the prejudice which his virtues are calculated to excite in favour of his muse. But, making every allowance on this ground^ no ordinary share of praise must still be his due. The most important exception probably which can be taken to his works, is, that they are almost all too exclusively religious to attract the at- tention of the general reader. Perhaps it would be no misrepresentation of the spirit of any age with which we are acquainted, if we except only the cant- ing age of Cromwell, to say, that such topics rather repel than invite the curiosity which so much befriend a writer. A like devotional character distinguished one of Grahame's oldest precursors in descriptive writing — Hume, of Logic — to whom, indeed, he bears a very striking resemblance. Both of them belonged originally to the profession of the law ; and both abandoned it for the church ; both cultivated poetry with a view to religious edification ; and both have studiously refrained from all reference to that ten- derest, though most selfish, of human passions. Love; and lastly, both have fixed on subjects as nearly alike as possible — the one, celebrating the beauties of a Summer's Day ; and the other, of the Sabbath, " the hallowed day." In the scale of merit, however, there 176 LIVES OF EMINENT SCOTSMEN. is a great distance between them. Although Gra- hame, like Hume, excludes love from his theme, he does not, like him, omit to call up other strong emo- tions of the heart in its stead ; although he looks on woman with no impassioned feeling, he does not banish her from his view entirely. We have, in the Sabbath Day> no such meetings of lovers as are, with the utmost truth of painting, described in the ballad of Logan Water. Nae mair at Logan Kirk, will he Atween the preachings, meet wi' me ; Meet wi' me, or when its mirk. Convoy me hame frae Logan Kirk. But we have, " at the close of evening prayer, "the affecting spectacle of youth and loveliness consigned to the grave : Again tliat knell ! The slow procession stops, The pall withdrawn. Death's altar, thick emboss'd With melancholy ornaments (the name. The record of her blossoming age), appears Unveil'd ; and on it, dust to dust is thrown — The final rite. Oh ! hark, that sullen sound ! Upon the lower'd bier the shovell'd clay Falls fast and fills the void. — Nor, though averse to introduce scenes of love into the day consecrated to Heaven, does Graharae appear to have wanted any thing of a lover's feeling. Take, for example, his description in the Georgics, of two lovers, on an excessively cold thirty-first of De- cember night : To meeting lovers now no hill is steep, No river fordless, and no forest dark : POETS.— JAMES GRAHAME. 177 And when they meet, unheeded sweeps the blast ; Unfelt the snow, as erst from summer's thorn, Around them fell a shower of fading flowers, Shook by the sighing of the evening breeze. Hume is simply pleasing ; Graha.ise is impressive, often pathetic. The one dwells on external objects alone ; the other penetrates into the inmost recesses of our heart. Still, considering either of them merely as writers anxious to arrive at popularity by the shortest road, it must be acknowledged, that, on account of the peculiarly religious character of their writings, they equally mistook their vvay. The next point to be noticed is, the manner in which Grahame has executed the design which he had conceived, and this will be better illustrated by a few quotations taken at random, than by a thousand remarks. If the following passages are not capable of affording some of the highest pleasures in the perusal, no pomp of commentary can raise them to that distinction ; if, on the other hand, they are capa- ble of delighting without such interference, it is, after all, the undertaking of more ingenious than useful labour, to pry into the components of that enthusiasm, which by one sweep of its wing has done the business already . The dawn of the Sabbath — its difference from the dawn of every other morn — is thus strikingly intro- duced. How still the morning of the hallow'd day ! Mute is the voice of rural labour ; hush'd The plougliboy's whistle, and the milkmaid's song. The scytlie lies glittering in the dewy wreath Of tedded grass mingled with fading flowers. 178 LIVES OF EMINENT SCOTSMEN. That yester-morn bloom'd waving in the breeze. Sounds the most faint attract the ear, — the hum Of early bee, the trickling of the dew, The distant bleeting midway up the hill. Calmness sits thron'd on yonunraoving cloud. To him who wanders o'er the upland leas The blackbird's note comes mellower from the dale ; And sweeter from the sky the gladsome lark Warbles his heaven-tun'd song ; the lulling brook Murmurs more gently down the deep worn glen ; While from yon lowly roof, whose curling smoke O'ermounts the mist, is heard at intervals The voice of Psalms, the simple song of Praise. The burial of beauty has been already incidentally noticed, and the conclusion quoted ; the preceding part of this episode is still more remarkable for the spirit and pathos of genuine poetry. But wood and wild, the mountain and the dale. The house of prayer itself, — no place inspires Emotions more accordant with the day. Than does the field of graves, the land of rest : — Oft at the close of evening prayer, the toll. The solemn funeral-toll, pausing, proclaims The service of the tomb ; the homeward crowds Divide on either hand ; the. pomp draws near. The choir to meet the dead go forth, and sing I am the Resurrection and the Life. Ah me ! these youthful bearers robed in white, They tell a mournful tale ; some blooming friend Is gone ; dead in her prime of years : — 'twas she, — The poor man's friend, who, when she could not give, With angel tongue, pleaded to those who could ; With angel tongue, and mild beseeching eye. POETS. — JAMES GRAHAME. 179 That ne'er besought in vain, save when she pray'd For longer life, with heart resign'd to die. — Rejoic'd to die, for happy visions bless'd Her voyage's last days, and hovering round. Alighted on her soul, giving presage, That Heaven was nigh. O ! what a burst Of rapture from her eyes ! what tears of joy Her Heaveftward eyes sufFus'd ! — Those eyes are clos'd. But all her loveliness is not yet flown. She smil'd in death, and still her cold pale face Retains that smile, as when a waveless lake, In which the win'try stars all bright appear, Is sheeted, by-'a nightly frost, with ice, Still it reflects the face of Heaven, unchang'd, Unruffled by the breeze, or sweeping blast. The simile, with which these lines close, is as hap- pily descriptive as it is original. But not to confine ourselves to " the Sabbath," let us open " the Georgics," the least happy, as the other is the most fortunate, effort of his Muse. Has the Battle of Bannockburn, the " Sabbath " of Scot- tish freedom, ever received a more grateful or more Scotch inspiring tribute, than in the words of Grahame ? To thee, who on a lovely morn in June, At break of day, knelt on the dewy sward, While full in view, Inchaff"ray's abbot rear'd The sacred host ! To them ! who 'ere the sheet Of blood besprinkled flowers, fell in the cause Of freedom and their country ! To the men. Who that day's fight survived, and saw, once more, Their homes, their children ; and, when silvery hairs Their temples thin bespread, liv'd to recount. 180 LIVES OF EMINENT SCOTSMEN. On winter nights, the achievements of that day I To thee, be ever raised the Muse's voice In grateful song triumphant ; The extracts which have been made, are sufficient to give a general idea of the character of Grahame's genius and expression. His thoughts, though sel- dom sublime, are never mean, and his language, though mostly simple and unaftected, is not always free from the charge of redundance. Grahame's great power is in tenderness, and his chief failing is want of energy ; yet, sometimes he hits off" a w armth and compression of phrase which well deserves the name of energy the most poetic. On the whole, the author of "the Sabbath" may be regarded as a poet of considerable genius, Avliose reputation is likely to ad- vance with the moral improvements of mankind ; and who, if he does not class among the first of the great fraternity to which he belongs, stands too pre- eminent to be disregarded. J.H. UNIVERSITY of CALIFORNIA AT LOS ANGELES LIBRARY i • ^%?= iSkf!^u[^ \ J\ L 005 327 388 4