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ciety, of the most attractive kind. To such a man no situation could be more dangerous than that in which he was placed. The excesses into which he was led, impaired his feeble constitution, and he sunk under them in the month of October, 1774, in his 23d or 24th year. Burns was not acquainted with the poems of this youthful genius when he himself began to write poetry; and when he first saw them, he had renounced the muses. But while he resided in the town of Irvine, meeting with Fergusson's Scottish Poems, he informs us that he "strung his lyre anew with emulating vigour."* Touched by the sympathy originating in kindred genius, and in the forebodings of similar fortune, Burns regarded Fergusson with a partial and an affectionate admiration. Over his grave he erected a monument, as has already been mentioned; and his poems he has in several instances, made the subjects of his imitation.

From this account of the Scottish poems known to Burns, those who are acquainted with them will see they are chiefly humorous or pathetic; and under one or other of these descriptions most of his own poems will class. Let us compare him with his predecessors under each of these points of view, and close our examination with a few general observations.

describes, in the first canto, a rustic dance, and afterwards a contention in archery, ending in an affray. Ramsay relates the restoration of concord, and the renewal of the rural sports with the humours of a country wedding. Though each of the poets describes the manners of his respective age, yet in the whole piece there is a very sufficient uniformity; a striking proof of the identity of character in the Scottish peasantry at the two periods, distant from each other three hundred years. It is an honourable distinction to this body of men, that their character and manners, very little embellished, have been found to be susceptible of an amusing and interesting species of poetry; and it must appear not a little curious, that the single nation of modern Europe which possesses an original poetry, should have received the model, followed by their rustic bards, from the monarch on the throne.

The two additional cantos to Christis Kirk of the Grene, written by Ramsay, though objectionable in point of delicacy, are among the happiest of his productions. His chief excellence indeed, lay in the description of rural characters, incidents, and scenery; for he did not possess any very high powers either of imagination or of understanding. He was well acquainted with the peasantry of Scotland, It has frequently been observed, that Scot- their lives and opinions. The subject land has produced, comparatively speaking, few was in a great measure new; his talents writers who have excelled in humour. But were equal to the subject, and he has this observation is true only when applied to shown that it may be happily adapted to those who have continued to reside in their pastoral poetry. In his Gentle Shepherd, the own country, and have confined themselves to characters are delineations from nature, the composition in pure English; and in these cir- descriptive parts are in the genuine style of cumstances it admits of an easy explanation. beautiful simplicity, the passions and affections The Scottish poets, who have written in the dia- of rural life are finely portrayed, and the lect of Scotland, have been at all times remark- heart is pleasingly interested in the happiness able for dwelling on subjects of humour, in which that is bestowed on innocence and virtue. indeed some of them have excelled. It would Throughout the whole there is an air of reality be easy to show, that the dialect of Scotland which the most careless reader cannot but perhaving become provincial, is now scarcely suit- ceive; and in fact no poem ever perhaps acquired to the more elevated kinds of poetry. If ed so high a reputation, in which truth receivwe may believe that the poem of Christis Kirked so little embellishment from the imagination. of the Grene was written by James the First of Scotland, this accomplished monarch, who had received an English education under Henry the Fourth, and who bore arms under his gallant successor, gave the model on which the greater part of the humorous productions of the rustic muse of Scotland had been formed. Christis Kirk of the Grene was reprinted by Ramsay, somewhat modernized in the orthography, and two cantos were added by him, in which he attempts to carry on the design. Hence the poem of King James is usually printed in Ramsay's works. The royal bard

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In his pastoral songs, and his rural tales, Ramsay appears to less advantage, indeed, but still with considerable attraction. The story of the Monk and the Miller's Wife, though somewhat licentious, may rank with the happiest produc. tions of Prior or La Fontaine. But when he attempts subjects from higher life, and aims at pure English composition, he is feeble and uninteresting, and seldom even reaches mediocrity.* Neither are his familiar epistles and elegies in the Scottish dialect entitled to much approbation. Though Fergusson had higher powers of imagination than Ramsay, his genius was not of the highest order; nor did his learning, which was considerable, improve his genius. His poems written in pure English, in which he often follows classical models, though superior to the English poems of Ram say, seldom rise above mediocrity; but in those

• See The Morning Interview, &c

His

composed in the Scottish dialect he is often very successful. He was, in general, however, less happy than Ramsay in the subjects of his muse. As he spent the greater part of his life in Edinburgh, and wrote for his amusement in the intervals of business or dissipation, his Scottish poems are chiefly founded on the incidents of a town life, which, though they are not susceptible of humour, do not admit of those delineations of scenery and manners, which vivify the rural poetry of Ramsay, and which so agreeably amuse the fancy and interest the heart. The town eclogues of Fergusson, if we may so denominate them, are however faithful to nature, and often distinguished by a very happy vein of humour. His poems entitled The Daft Days, The King's Birth-day in Edinburgh, Leith Races, and The Hallow Fair, will justify this character. In these, particularly in the last, he imitated Christis Kirk of the Grene, as Ramsay had done before him. Address to the Tron-kirk Bell is an exquisite piece of humour, which Burns has scarcely excelled. In appreciating the genius of Fergusson, it ought to be recollected, that his poems are the careless effusions of an irregular though amiable young man, who wrote for the periodical papers of the day, and who died in early youth. Had his life been prolonged under happier circumstances of fortune, he would probably have risen to much higher reputation. He might have excelled in rural poetry, for though his professed pastorals on the established Sicilian model, are stale and uninteresting, The Farmer's Ingle, which may be considered as a Scottish pastoral, is the happiest of all his productions, and certainly was the archetype of the Cotter's Saturday Night. Fergusson, and more especially Burns, have shown, that the character and manners of the peasantry of Scotland, of the present times, are as well adapted to poetry, as in the days of Ramsay, or of the author of Christis Kirk of the Grene.

The humour of Burns is of a richer vein than that of Ramsay or Fergusson, both of whom, as he himself informs us, he had "frequently in his eye, but rather with a view to kindle at their flame, than to servile imitation." His descriptive powers, whether the objects on which they are employed be comic or serious, animate, or inanimate, are of the highest order. -A superiority of this kind is essential to every species of poetical excellence. In one of his earlier poems his plan seems to be to inculcate a lesson of contentment on the lower classes of society, by showing that their superiors are neither much better nor happier than themselves; and this he chooses to execute in the form of a dialogue between two dogs. He introduces this dialogue by an account of the persons and characters of the speakers. The first, whom he has named Cæsar, is a dog of condition :

The farmer's fire-side.

"His locked, letter'd, braw brass-collar, Showed him the gentleman and scholar." High-bred though he is, he is however full of condescension:

"At kirk or market, mill or smiddie,
Nae tawted tyke, tho' e'er sae duddie,
But he wad stan't, as glad to see him,
An stroan't on slanes an' hillocks wi' him."

The other Luath, is a "ploughman's-collie, ' but a cur of a good heart and a sound under standing.

"His honest, sonsie, baws'nt face,
Aye gat him friends in ilka place;
His breast was white, his towsie back
Weel clad wi' coat o' glossy black;
His gawcie tail, wi' upward curl,
Hung o'er his hurdies wi' a swirl."

Never were twa dogs so exquisitely delineated. Their gambols, before they sit down to moralize, are described with an equal degree of happiness; and through the whole dialogue, the character, as well as the different condition of the two speakers, is kept in view. The speech of Luath, in which he enumerates the comforts of the poor, gives the following account of their merriment on the first day of the year:

"That merry day the year begins,
They bar the door on frosty winds:
The nappy reeks wi' mantling ream,
And sheds a heart-inspirin' steam;
The luntin pipe, and sneeshin' mill,
Are handed round wi' right guid-will;
The canty auld folks crackin' crouse,
The young anes rantin' thro' the house-
My heart has been sae fain to see them,
That I for joy hae barkit we them."

Of all the animals who have moralized on hu man affairs since the days of Æsop, the dog seems best entitled to this privilege, as well from his superior sagacity, as from his being, more than any other, the friend and associate of man. The dogs of Burns, exceping in their talent for moralizing, are downright dogs; and not like the horses of Swift, or the Hind and Panther of Dryden, men in the shape of brutes. It is this circumstance that heightens the humour of the dialogue. The "twa dogs" are constantly kept before our eyes, and the contrast between their form and character as dogs, and the sagacity of their conversation, heightens the humour, and deepens the impression of the poet's satire. Though in this poem the chief excellence may be considered as humour, yet great talents are displayed in its composition; the happiest powers of description and the deepest insight into the human heart.

* When this poem first appeared, it was thought by some very surprising, that a peasant who had not an o; portunity of associating even with a simple gentleman,

It is seldom, however, that the humour of Burns appears in so simple a form. The liveliness of his sensibility frequently impels him to introduce into subjects of humour, emotions of tenderness or of pity; and, where occasion admits, he is sometimes carried on to exert the higher powers of imagination. In such instances he leaves the society of Ramsay and of Fergusson, and associates himself with the masters of English poetry, whose language he frequently assumes.

Again, however, he sinks into humour, and concludes the poem with the following most laughable, but most irreverent apostrophe:

"Scotland, my auld, respected mither!
Though whyles ye moistify your leather,
'Till where you sit, on craps o' heather,
Ye tine your dam;

Freedom and Whisky gang thegither,
Tak' aff your dram!"

Of this union of humour, with the higher Of the union of tenderness and humour, ex-powers of imagination, instances may be found amples may be found in The Death and Dying in the poem entitled Death and Dr Hornbook, Words of poor Mailie, in The auld Farmer's and in almost every stanza of the Address to New-Year's Morning Salutation to his Mare the Deil, one of the happiest of his producMaggie, and in many other of his poems. The tions. praise of whisky is a favourite subject with Burns. To this he dedicates his poem of Scotch Drink. After mentioning its cheering influence in a variety of situations, he describes, with singular liveliness and power of fancy, its stimulating effects on the blacksmith working at his forge:

"Nae mercy, then, for airn or steel;
The brawnie, bainie, ploughman chiel,
Brings hard owre-hip, wi' sturdy wheel,
The strong fore-hammer,

Till block an' studdie ring and reel
W' dinsome clamour,'

On another occasion,* choosing to exalt whisky above wine, he introduces a comparison between the natives of more genial climes, to whom the vine furnishes their beverage, and his own countrymen who drink the spirit of malt. The description of the Scotsman is humorous:

"But bring a Scotsman frae his hill,
Clap in his cheek a Highland gill,+
Say, such is royal George's will,
An' there's the foe;
He has nae thought but how to kill
Twa at a blow."

Here the notion of danger rouses the imagination of the poet. He goes on thus:

"Nae cauld faint-hearted doubtings teaze him;
Death comes-wi' fearless eye he sees him;
Wi' bluidy hand a welcome gies him,
And when he fa's,
His latest draught o' breathing lea'es him
In faint huzzas."

should have been able to portray the character of highlife with such accuracy. And when it was recollected that he had probably been at the races of Ayr, where nobility as well as gentry are to be seen, it was concluded that the race ground had been the field of his observation. This was sagacious enough; but it did not require.such instruction to inform Burns, that human nature is essentially the same in the high and low; and a genius which comprehends the human mind, easily comprehends the accidental varieties introduced by situ. ation.

The Author's Earnest Cry and Prayer to the Scotch Representatives in Parliament, p. 92. + Of whisky.

with all his "doings" and misdeeds, in the
After reproaching this terrible being
course of which he passes through a series
of Scottish superstitions, and rises at times
into a high strain of poetry; he concludes this
address, delivered in a tone of great familiarity,
not altogether unmixed with apprehension, in
the following words:

"But, fare ye weel, auld Nickie-ben
O wad ye tak a thought an' men'!
Ye ablins might-I dinna ken-
Still ha'e a stake-

I'm wae to think upo' yon den

Ev'n for your sake!

Humour and tenderness are here so happily intermixed, that it is impossible to say which preponderates.

Fergusson wrote a dialogue between the Causeway and the Plainstones,* of Edinburgh. This probably suggested to Burns his dialogue between the Old and New Bridge over the river Ayr. The nature of such subjects requires that they shall be treated humorously, and Fergusson has attempted nothing beyond this. Though the Causeway and the Plainstones talk together, no attempt is made to personify the speakers. A "cadie" heard the conversation, and reported it to the poet.

Burns himself is the auditor, and the time and
In the dialogue between the Brigs of Ayr,

occasion on which it occurred is related with
great circumstantiality. The poet, "press'd
by care," or "inspired by whim," had left his
bed in the town of Ayr, and wandered out
alone in the darkness and solitude of a winter
night, to the mouth of the river, where the
stillness was interrupted only by the rushing
sound of the influx of the tide. It was after
midnight. The Dungeon-clock had struck
two, and the sound had been repeated by
Wallace-Tower. All else was hushed. The
moon shone brightly, and

"The chilly frost, beneath the silver beam, Crept, gently-crusting, o'er the glittering stream."

*The middle of the street, and the side-way.
+ The Brigs of Ayr, p. 98. 1 A messenger.
The two steeples of Ayr.

In this situation, the listening bard hears the "clanging sugh" of wings moving through the air, and speedily he perceives two beings, reared, the one on the Old, the other on the New Bridge, whose form and attire he describes, and whose conversation with each other he rehearses. These genii enter into a comparison of the respective edifices over which they preside, and afterwards, as is usual between the old and young, compare modern characters and manners with those of past times. They differ, as may be expected, and taunt and scold each other in broad Scotch. This conversation, which is certainly humorous, may be considered as a proper business of the poem. As the debate runs high, and threatens serious consequences, all at once it is interrupted by a new scene of wonders:

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"The Genius of the Stream in front appears,
A venerable chief, advanced in years;
His hoary head with water-lilies crown'd,
His manly leg with garter tangle bound."

Next follow a number of otner allegorical beings, among whom are the four seasons, Rural Joy, Plenty, Hospitality, and Courage.

"Benevolence, with mild benignant air,

A female form, came from the tow'rs of Stair: Learning and Worth in equal measures trode, From simple Catrine, their long-loved abode: Last, white-robed Peace, crown'd with a hazel wreath,

To rustic Agriculture did bequeath

The broken iron instrument of Death;

At sight of whom our Sprites forgat their kindling wrath."

This poem, irregular and imperfect as it is, displays various and powerful talents, and may serve to illustrate the genius of Burns. In particular, it affords a striking instance of his being carried beyond his original purpose by the powers of imagination.

In Fergusson's poem, the Plainstones and Causeway contrast the characters of the different persons who walked upon them. Burns probably conceived, that, by a dialogue between the Old and New Bridge, he might form a humorous contrast between ancient and modern manners in the town of Ayr. Such a dialogue could only be supposed to pass in the stillness of night; and this led our poet into a description of a midnight scene, which excited in a high degree the powers of his imagination. During the whole dialogue the scenery is pre

sent to his fancy, and at length it suggests to him a fairy dance of aerial beings, under the beams of the moon, by which the wrath of the Genii of the Brigs of Ayr is appeased.

Incongruous as the different parts of this poem are, it is not an incongruity that displeases; and we have only to regret that the poet did not bestow a little pains in making the figures more correct, and in smoothing the versification.

The epistles of Burns, in which may be included his Dedication to G. H. Esq. discover, like his other writings, the powers of a superior understanding. They display deep insight into human nature, a gay and happy strain of reflection, great independence of sentiment, and generosity of heart. It is to be regretted, that in his Holy Fair, and in some of his other poems, his humour degenerates into personal satire, and is not sufficiently guarded in other respects. The Halloween of Burns is free from every objection of this sort. It is interesting not merely from its humorous description of manners, but as it records the spells and charms used on the celebration of a festival, now, even in Scotland, falling into neglect, but which was once observed over the greater part of Britain and Ireland. These charms are supposed to afford an insight into futurity, especially on the subject of marriage, the most interesting event of rural life. In the Halloween, a female, in performing one of the spells, has occasion to go out by moonlight to dip her shift-sleeve into a stream running towards the South. It was not necessary for Burns to give a description of this stream. But it was the character of his ardent mind to pour forth not merely what the occasion required, but what it admitted; and the tempta. tion to describe so beautiful a natural object by moonlight, was not to be resisted

"Whyles owre a linn the burnie plays,
As through the glen it wimpl't;
Whyles round the rocky scar it strays:
Whyles in a wiel it dimpl't;
Whyles glitter'd to the nightly rays,
Wi' bickering dancing dazzle;
Whyles cookit underneath the braes,
Beneath the spreading hazel,
Unseen that night.

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celled equally as in that of a humorous kind, and, using less of the Scottish dialect in his serious poems, he becomes more generally intelligible. It is difficult to decide whether the Address to a Mouse whose nest was turned up with the plough, should be considered as serious or comic. Be this as it may, the poem is one of the happiest and most finished of his productions. If we smile at the "bickering brattle" of this little flying animal, it is a smile of tenderness and pity. The descriptive part is admirable: the moral reflections beautiful, and arising directly out of the occasion; and in the conclusion there is a deep melancholy, a sentiment of doubt and dread, that arises to the sublime. The Address to a Mountain Daisy, turned down with the plough,† is a poem of the same nature, though somewhat inferior in point of originality, as well as in the interest produced. To extract out of incidents so common, and seemingly so trivial as these, so fine a train of sentiment and imagery, is the surest proof, as well as the most brilliant triumph, of original genius. The Vision, in two cantos, from which a beautiful extract is taken by Mr Mackenzie, in the 97th number of the Lounger, is a poem of great and various excellence. The opening, in which the poet describes his own state of mind, retiring in the evening, wearied, from the labours of the day, to moralize on his conduct and prospects, is truly interesting. The chamber, if we may so term it, in which he sits down to muse, is an exquisite painting.

"There, lanely, by the ingle cheek,
I sat and eyed the spewing reek,
That fill'd wi' hoast-provoking smeek
That auld clay biggin;
An' heard the restless rattons squeak
About the riggin."

To

To reconcile to our imagination the entrance of an aerial being into a mansion of this kind, required the powers of Burns-he, however, succeeds. Coila enters, and her countenance, attitude, and dress, unlike those of other spiritual beings, are distinctly portrayed. the painting on her mantle, on which is depicted the most striking scenery, as well as the most distinguished characters, of his native country, some exceptions may be made. The mantle of Coila, like the cup of Thyrsis, and the shield of Achilles, is too much crowded with figures, and some of the objects represented upon it are scarcely admissible, according to the principles of design. The generous temperament of Burns led him into these exuberances. In his second edition he enlarged the number of figures originally introduced, that he might include objects to which he was attached by sentiments of affection, gratitude, or patriotism. The second Duan,

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or canto of this poem, in which Coila describes her own nature and occupations, particularly her superintendance of his infant genius, and in which she reconciles him to the character of a bard, is an elevated and solemn strain of poetry, ranking in all respects, excepting the harmony of numbers, with the higher productions of the English muse. The concluding stanza, compared with that already quoted, will show to what a height Burns rises in this poem, from the point at which he set out:

"And wear thou this-she solemn said, And bound the holly round my head; The polish'd leaves, and berries red, Did rustling play;

And, like a passing thought, she fled In light away."

In various poems Burns has exhibited the picture of a mind under the deep impressions of real sorrow. The Lament, the Ode to Ruin, Despondency, and Winter, a Dirge, are of this character. In the first of these poems the eighth stanza, which describes a sleepless night from anguish of mind, is particularly striking. Burns often indulged in those melancholy views of the nature and condition of man, which are so congenial to the temperament of sensibility. The poem entitled Man was made to Mourn, affords an instance of this kind, and The Winter Night is of the same description. The last is highly characteristic, both of the temper of mind, and of the condition of Burns, It begins with a description of a dreadful storm on a night in winter. The poet represents himself as lying in bed, and listening to its howling. In this situation, he naturally turns his thoughts to the ourief Cattle, and the silly Sheep, exposed to all the violence of the tempest. Having lamented their fate, he proceeds in the following:

"Ilk happing bird-wee helpless thing! That in the merry months of spring, Delighted me to hear thee sing,

What comes o' thee? Whare wilt thou cow'r thy chittering wing, An' close thy e'e?"

Other reflections of the same nature occur to his mind; and as the midnight moon, "muffled with clouds," casts her dreary light on his window, thoughts of a darker and more melancholy nature crowd upon him. In this state of mind, he hears a voice pouring through the gloom, a solemn and plaintive strain of reflection. The mourner compares the fury of the elements with that of man to his brother man, and finds the former light in the balance.

* See p. 117.

+ Ourie, out-lying. Ourie Cattle, Cattle that are unhoused all winter.

Silly is in this, as in other places, a term of compassion and endearment.

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