the battle of Flowden. In spite of the double rhyme, it is a sweet, and, though in some parts allegorical, a natural expression of national sorrow. The more modern words to the same tune, beginning, 'I have seen the smiling of fortune beguiling,' were written long before by Mrs. Cockburn, a woman of great wit, who outlived all the first group of literati of the present century, all of whom were very fond of her. (129) I was delighted with her company, though, when I saw her, she was very old. Much did she know that is now lost." In addition to these instances of Scottish songs produced in the earlier part of the present century, may be mentioned the ballad of Hardiknute, by Lady Wardlaw; the ballad of William and Margaret; and the song entitled the Birks of Endermay, by Mallett; the love-song, beginning. "For ever fortune, wilt thou prove," produced by the youthful muse of Thomson; and the exquisite pathetic ballad, the Braes of Yarrow, by Hamilton of Bangour. On the revival of letters in Scotland, subsequent to the Union, a very general taste seems to have prevailed for the national songs and music. For many years," says Mr. Ramsay, the singing of songs was the great delight of the higher and middle order of the people, as well as of the peasantry; and though a taste for Italian music has interfered with this amusement, it is still very prevalent. Between forty and fifty Between forty and fifty years ago, the common people were not only exceedingly fond of songs and ballads, but of metrical history. Often have I, in my cheerful morn of youth, listened to them with delight, when reading or reciting the exploits of Wallace and Bruce against the southrons. Lord Hailes was wont to call Blind Harry their bible, he being their great favourite next to the Scriptures. When, therefore, one in the vale of life felt the first emotions of genius, he wanted not models sui generis. But though the seeds of poetry were scattered with a plentiful hand among the Scottish peasantry, the product was probably like that of pears and apples of a thousand that spring up, nine hundred and fifty are so bad as to set the teeth on edge; forty-five or more are passable and useful; and the rest of an exquisite flavour. Allan Ramsay and Burns are wildings of this last description. They had the example of the elder Scottish poets; they were not without the aid of the best English writers; and, what was still of more importance, they were no strangers to the book of nature, and to the book of God.” "From this general view, it is apparent that Allan Ramsay may be considered as in a great measure the reviver of the rural poetry of his country. His collection of ancient Scottish poems, under the name of The Evergreen, his collection of Scottish songs, and his own poems, the principal of which is the Gentle Shepherd, have been universally read among the peasantry of his country, and have in some degree superseded the adventures of Bruce and Wallace, as recorded by Barbour and Blind Harry. Burns was well acquainted with all these. He had also before him the poems of Fergusson in the Scottish dialect, which have been produced in our own times, and of which it will be necessary to give a short account. "Fergusson was born of parents who had it in their power to procure him a liberal education--a circumstance, however, which in Scotland implies no very high rank in society. From a well-written and apparently authentic account of his life (130), we learn that he spent six years at the schools of Edinburgh and Dundee,__and several years at the universities of Edinburgh and St. Andrews. It appears that he was at one time destined for the Scottish church; but, as he advanced towards manhood, he renounced that intention, and at Edinburgh entered the office of a writer to the signet a title which designates a separate and higher order of Scottish attornies. Fergusson had sensibility of mind, a warm and generous heart, and talents for society 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 sank under them in the month of October, 1774 in his twenty-third or twenty-fourth year. Burns was not acquainted with the poems of this youthful genius when he himself begar, 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 that 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. 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 It has frequently been observed, that either of imagination or of understanding. Scotland has produced, comparatively speak- He was well acquainted with the peasantry ing, few writers who have excelled in humour. of Scotland, their lives and opinions. The But this observation is true only when ap- subject was in a great measure new; his plied to those who have continued to reside talents were equal to the subject; and he in their own country, and have confined has shown that it may be happily adapted to themselves to composition in pure English; pastoral poetry. In his Gentle Shepherd, and, in these circumstances, it admits of an the characters are delineations from nature, easy explanation. The Scottish poets who the descriptive parts are in the genuine style have written in the dialect of Scotland, have of beautiful simplicity, the passions and been at all times remarkable for dwelling on affections of rural life are finely pourtrayed, subjects of humour, in which, indeed, many and the heart is pleasingly interested in the of them have excelled. It would be easy to happiness that is bestowed on innocence and show, that the dialect of Scotland having virtue. Throughout the whole there is an become provincial, is now scarcely suited to air of reality which the most careless reader the more elevated kinds of poetry. If we cannot but perceive; and, in fact, no poem may believe that the poem of Christis Kirk ever perhaps acquired so high a reputation, of the Grene was written by James I. of in which truth received so little embellishScotland (131), this accomplished monarch, ment from the imagination. In his pastoral who had received an English education songs, and in his rural tales, Rainsay appears under the direction of Henry IV., and who to less advantage indeed, but still with conbore arms under his gallant successor, gave siderable attraction. The story of the Monk the model on which the greater part of the and the Miller's Wife, though somewhat humorous productions of the rustic muse of licentious, may rank with the happiest proScotland has been formed. Christis Kirk ductions of Prior, or La Fontaine. But when of the Grene was reprinted by Ramsay he attempts subjects from higher life, and somewhat modernised in the orthography, aims at pure English composition, he is and two cantos were added by him, in which feeble and uninteresting, and seldom ever he attempts to carry on the design. Hence reaches mediocrity. Neither are his familiar the poem of King James is usually printed epistles and elegies in the Scottish dialect in Ramsay's works. The royal bard describes, entitled to much approbation. Though in the first canto, a rustic dance, and after- Fergusson had higher powers of imagination wards a contention in archery, ending in an | than Ramsay, his genius was not of the affray. Ramsay relates the restoration of highest order; nor did his learning, which concord, and the renewal of the rural sports, was considerable, improve his genius. His with the humours of a country wedding. poems written in pure English, in which he Though each of the poets describes the often follows classical models, though supemanners of his respective age, yet in the rior to the English poems of Ramsay, seldom whole piece there is a very sufficient unifor-rise above mediocrity; but in those commity-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 rural poetry, should have received the model, followed by their rustic bards, from the monarch on the throne. posed 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 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. His 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 (132), which may be considered as a Scottish pastoral, is the happiest of all his productions, and certainly was the prototype 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: "His locked, letter'd, braw brass collar, Show'd 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 so duddie, But he wad stan't, as glad to see him, And stroan't on stanes and hillocks wi him.” The other, Luath, is a "ploughman's collie," but a cur of a good heart and a sound understanding. "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 gaucie 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 moralise are described with an equal degree of happiness; and through the whole dialogue, the character, as well as the dif ferent 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 win's; Of all the animals who have moralised on human 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, excepting in their talent for moralising, 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. (133) 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. Of the union of tenderness and humour, examples may be found in The Death and Dying Words of poor Mailie, in The Auld Farmer's New-Year's Morning Salutation to his Mare Maggie, and in many of his other poems. The 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 and steel; Till block and studdie ring and reel Wi' dinsome clamour." On another occasion (134), 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 (135), Say such is royal George's will, And there's the foe, He has nae thought but how to kill 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, His latest draught o' breathing lea'es him Again, however, he sinks into humour, and concludes the poem with the following most laughable but most irreverent apostrephe "Scotland, my auld, respected mither! Of this union of humour with the higher powers of imagination, instances may be found in the poem entitled Death and Dr. Hornbook, and in almost every stanza of the Address to the Deil, one of the happiest of his productions. After reproaching this terrible being with all his " doings" and misdeeds, in the 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-well, auld Nickie-ben! I'm wae to think upon yon den 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 (136) of Edinburgh. This probably suggested to Burns his dialogue between the Old and the New Bridge over the river Ayr. (137) 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" (138) heard the conversation, and reported it to the poet. In the dialogues between the Brigs of Ayr, Burns himself is the auditor, and the time and occasion on which it occurred is related with great circumstantiality. The poet, "pressed 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 (139) had struck two, and the sound had been repeated by Wallace Tower. (140) All else was hushed. The moon shone brightly, and "The chilly frost, beneath the silver beam, Crept gently crusting, o'er the glittering stream.' 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 the 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: "all before their sight A fairy train appear'd in order bright; Adown the glittering stream they featly danc'd; [glanc'd; Bright to the moon their various dresses They footed o'er the wat'ry glass so neat, The infant ice scarce bent beneath their feet; While arts of Minstrelsy among them rung, And soul-enobling Bards heroic ditties sung.' 'The Genius of the Stream in front appearsA venerable chief, advanc'd in years; His hoary head with water-lilies crown'd, His manly leg with garter-tangle bound," Next follow a number of other allegorical beings, among whom are the four seasons, Rural Joy, Plenty, Hospitality, and Cou rage. "Benevolence, with mild benignant air, A female form, came from the tow'rs of Stair; To rustic Agriculture did bequeath 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 present to his fancy, and at length it suggests to him a fairy dance of aërial 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 dis pleases; 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 that it 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. (141) 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 is admitted; and the temptation to describe so beautiful a natural object by moonlight, was not to be resisted "Whyles owre a linn the burnie plays, Unseen that night." Those who understand the Scottish dialect will allow this to be one of the finest instances of description which the records of poetry afford. (142) Though of a very different nature, it may be compa ed, in point of excellence, with Thomson's description of a river swoollen by the rains of winter, bursting through the streights that confine its torrent, torrent, "boiling, wheeling, foaming, and thundering along." In pastoral, or, to speak more correctly, in rural poetry of a serious nature, Burns excelled equally as in that of a humorous kind; and, using less of the Scottish dialect |
