athering ervice of a oceeds The parent pair their secret homage pay, And proffer up to Heaven the warm request, And decks the lily fair in flow'ry pride, For them and for their little ones provide; But chiefly in their hearts with grace divine preside. It is our painful duty to state that the industry, virtue and sobriety which characterized the early life of Burns, were not adhered to as he approached manhood. He was led into dissipated company, and adopted the vicious habits of those with whom he associated. He was involved in serious difficulties, the result of his own indiscretion. An irregular connection with Jean Armour, afterwards Mrs. Burns, brought both him and her into the greatest distress. It was, at last, agreed between them, to make a legal acknowledgment of a private marriage, according to a Scottish custom, and that he should then set out for Jamaica, to push his fortune. An "But before leaving my native country forever," he says, "I resolved to publish my poems, and weighed my productions as impartially as was in my power. I thought they had merit, and it was a delicious idea that I should be called a clever fellow, even though it should never meet my ears." impression of six hundred copies of the book was, accordingly, published at Kilmarnock. This was in the autumn of 1786. The poems were well received by the public, and, after paying all expenses, the author cleared nearly twenty pounds. "This sum," he says, came very seasonably, as I was thinking of indenting myself, for want of money to procure my passage. As soon as I was master of nine guineas, the price of wafting me to the torrid zone, I took a steerage passage in the first ship that was to sail from the Clyde; 'for hungry ruin had me in the wind.' I had been for some days skulking from covert to covert, under all the terrors of a gaol, as some ill-advised people had uncoupled the merci less pack of the law at my heels." This had been done to oblige him to find security for the maintenance of his children, for the parents of the mother were so indignant, that, notwithstanding what had happened, they would not allow the marriage to take place. He now took farewell of his friends; his chest was sent forward to Greenock; and he had composed the last song he ever expected to write in his native land. This, which was entitled, "The Gloomy Night is gathering fast," affords a touching picture of the poet's feelings at this dark and almost hopeless period. THE GLOOMY NIGHT IS GATHERING FAST. The gloomy night is gath'ring fast, The autumn mourns her rip'ning corn, Chill runs my blood to hear it rave; 'Tis not the surging billow's roar, Farewell! old Coila's hills and dales; Farewell, my friends! Farewell, my foes! It was at the critical moment when Burns had thus, in a feeling of despair, taken, as he supposed, a final leave of his country and all he held dear, that a letter of Dr. Blacklock to a friend, overthrew all his schemes, by opening new prospects to his poetic ambition. The doctor belonged to a set of critics, for whose applause he had not dared to hope. His opinion that he would meet with encouragement in Edinburgh, for a second edition, fired him so much, that away he posted for that city, without a single acquaintance, or a single letter of introduction' The result of this visit was the introduction of the poet to all who were eminent in literature, in rank or M in fashion, in the Scottish metropolis. The brilliant conversation of the unlettered ploughman seems to have struck all, with whom he came in contact, with as much wonder as his poetry. Under the patronage of the Earl of Glencairn, Dr. Robertson, Professor Dugald Stewart, Mr. Henry Mackenzie, and other persons of note, a new edition of his poems was published, from the profits of which he received nearly five hundred pounds. In the summer of 1788, he returned to Ayrshire, where his brother Gilbert, who had taken upon him the support of their aged mother, was struggling with many difficulties in the farm they had conjointly taken. Robert advanced two hundred pounds, and with the remainder of his money he prepared to stock another farm, that of Ellisland in Dumfriesshire, for himself. Here he took up his abode in June, 1788, having previously legalized his union with Miss Armour, by joining with her in a public declaration of their marriage. Soon after this, by the interest of Mr. Graham of Fintray, he was appointed, on his own application, an officer of excise for the district in which he lived. The salary he received in this capacity was originally fifty pounds a year, but it was eventually increased to seventy pounds. His duties, however, interfered so much with the attention due to his farm, that he found himself obliged to resign it to his landlord, after having occupied it nearly three years and a half. About the end of the year 1791, he retired with his family to a small house in the town of Dumfries, placing his dependence for the future, exclusively on his chances of promotion in the excise. In Dumfries, Burns spent the short remainder of his life. The habits that he had acquired during the sudden and short-lived intoxication of his first introduction to public notice, now gained entire ascendancy over him, as misfortune and disappointment broke, or at least embittered his spirit, and enfeebled his powers of resistance. The strong excitements of admiration and applause, by which he had been surrounded at Edinburgh, were sought for at any cost, and among companions of any order who would join him in drowning reflection. Even the prospects upon which he had placed his reliance of advancement in the excise, were suddenly overcast in consequence of some imprudent expressions which he dropped on the subject of the French revolution, to which some despicable informer had called the notice of the Board. Instead of treating the matter with the contempt it deserved, with a littleness and an inquisitorial despotism peculiar to such bodies, they set on foot a regular inquiry into Burns's political tenets and conduct,-and this, it must be remembered, in relation to a man whose independence formed the most striking trait of his character. Burns thus describes his feelings and thoughts, at this most unhappy epoch of his history. He is writing to his friend Graham, of Fintray the date is Dec., 1792. "I have been surprised, confounded and distracted by Mr. Mitchell, the collector, telling me that he has received an order from your Board, to inquire into my political conduct, and blaming me as a person disaffected to government. Sir, you are a husband and a father. You know what you would feel to see the much-loved |