lady who assumes such a dress puts her beauty, indeed, to a severer trial. She rejects-she, indeed, opposes the influence of fashion; she, possibly, abandons the grace of elegant and flowing drapery; but her native charms remain, the more striking, perhaps, because the less adorned, and to these she trusts for fixing her empire on those affections over which fashion has no sway. If she succeeds, a new association arises. The dress of the beautiful rustic becomes itself beautiful, and establishes a new fashion for the young and the gay. And when, in after ages, the contemplative observer shall view her picture in the gallery that contains the portraits of the beauties of successive centuries, each in the dress of her respective day, her drapery will not deviate, more than that of her rivals, from the standard of his taste, and he will give the palm to her who excels in the lineaments of nature. Burns wrote professedly for the peasantry of his country, and by them their native dialect is universally relished. To a numerous class of the natives of Scotland of another description, it may also be considered as attractive in a different point of view. Estranged from their native soil, and spread over foreign lands, the idiom of their country unites with the sentiments and the descriptions on which it is employed, to recal to their minds the interesting scenes of infancy and youth-to awaken many pleasing, many tender recollections. Literary men, residing at Edinburgh or Aberdeen, cannot judge on this point for one hundred and fifty thousand of their expatriated countrymen. (150) To the use of the Scottish dialect in one species of poetry, the composition of songs, the taste of the public has been for some time reconciled. The dialect in question excels, as has already been observed, in the copiousness and exactness of its terms for natural objects; and in pastoral or rural songs, it gives a Doric simplicity which is very generally approved. Neither does the regret seem well founded which some persons of taste have expressed, that Burns used this dialect in so many other of his compositions. His declared purpose was to paint the manners of rustic life among his "humble compeers," and it is not easy to conceive, that this could have been done with equal humour and effect, if he had not adopted their idiom. There are some, indeed, who will think the subject too low for poetry. Persons of this sickly taste will find their delicacies consulted in many a polite and learned author; let them not seek for gratification in the rough and vigorous lines, in the unbridled humour, or in the overpowering sensibility of this bard of nature. To determine the comparative merit of Burns would be no easy task. Many persons, afterwards distinguished in literature, have been born in as humble a situation of life; but it would be difficult to find any other, who, while earning his subsistence by daily labour, has written verses which have attracted and retained universal attention, and which are likely to give the author a permanent and distinguished place among the followers of the muses. If he is deficient in grace, he is distinguished for ease as well as energy; and these are indications of the higher order of genius. The father of epic poetry exhibits one of his heroes as excelling in strength, another in swiftness-to form his perfect warrior, these attributes are combined. Every species of intellectual superiority admits, perhaps, of a similar arrangement. One writer excels in force-another in ease; he is superior to them both, in whom both these qualities are united. Of Homer himself it may be said, that, like his own Achilles, he surpasses his competitors in mobility as well as strength. of The force of Burns lay in the powers his understanding and in the sensibility of his heart; and these will be found to infuse the living principle into all the works of genius which seem destined to immortality. His sensibility had an uncommon range. He was alive to every species of emotion. He is one of the few poets that can be mentioned, who have at once excelled in humour, in tenderness, and in sublimity; a praise unknown to the ancients, and which in modern times is only due to Ariosto, to Shakspeare, and perhaps to Voltaire. To compare the writings of the Scottish peasants with the works of these giants in literature, might appear presumptuous; yet it may be asserted that he has displayed the foot of Hercules. How near he might have approached them by proper culture, with lengthened years, and under happier auspices, it is not for us to calculate. But while we run over the melancholy story of his life, it is impossible not to heave a sigh at the asperity of his fortune; and as we survey the records of his mind, it is easy to see, that out of such materials have been reared the fairest and the most durable of the monuments of genius. LETTER FROM GILBERT BURNS TO DR. CURRIE. Extracts from Letters. Addenda. 87 coal to the family fire (and I could yet point out the particular spot), that the author first repeated to me the Address to the FROM GILBERT BURNS TO DR. CURRIE, Deil. The curious idea of such an address RESPECTING THE COMPOSITION OF HIS Mossgiel, 2nd April, 1798. "I CANNOT pretend to be very accurate in respect to the dates of the poems, but none of them, excepting Winter, a Dirge (which was a juvenile production), The Death and Dying Words of poor Mailie, and some of the songs, were composed before the year 1784. The circumstances of the poor sheep were pretty much as he has described them. Among the earliest of his poems was the Epistle to Davie. Robert often composed without any regular plan. When anything made a strong impression on his mind, so as to rouse it to poetic exertion, he would give way to the impulse, and embody the thought in rhyme. If he hit on two or three stanzas to please him, he would then think of proper introductory, connecting, and concluding stanzas; hence the middle of a poem was often first produced. It was, I think, in summer 1784, when, in the interval of harder labour, he and I were weeding in the garden (kail-yard), that he repeated to me the principal part of this epistle. I believe the first idea of Robert's becoming an author was started on this occasion. I was much pleased with the epistle, and said to him I was of opinion it would bear being printed, and that it would be well received by people of taste; that I thought it at least equal, if not superior, to many of Allan Ramsay's epistles; and that the merit of these, and much other Scotch poetry, seemed to consist principally in the knack of the expression, but here there was a train of interesting sentiment, and the Scotticism of the language scarcely seemed affected, but appeared to be the natural language of the poet that, besides, there was certainly some novelty in a poet pointing out the consolations that were in store for him when he should go a-begging. Robert seemed very well pleased with my criticism, and we talked of sending it to some magazine; but as this plan afforded no opportunity of knowing how it would take, the idea was dropped. "It was, I think, in the winter following, as we were going together with carts for was suggested to him by running over in his mind the many ludicrous accounts and representations we have from various quarters of this august personage. Death and Doctor Hornbook, though not published in the Kilmarnock edition, was produced early in the year 1785. The schoolmaster of Tarbolton parish, to eke out the scanty subsistence allowed to that useful class of men, had set up a shop of grocery goods. Having accidentally fallen in with some medical books, and become most hobby-horsically attached to the study of medicine, he had added the sale of a few medicines to his little trade. He had got a shop-bill printed, at the bottom of which, overlooking his own incapacity, he had advertised that Advice would be given in common disorders at the shop gratis.' Robert was at a mason meeting in Tarbolton, when the dominie unfortunately made too ostentatious a display of his medical skill. As he parted in the evening from this mixture of pedantry and physic, at the place where he describes his meeting with Death, one of those floating ideas of apparitions he mentions in his letter to Dr. Moore, crossed his mind; this set him to work for the rest of the way home. These circumstances he related when he repeated the verses to me next afternoon, as I was holding the plough, and he was letting the water off the field beside me. The Epistle to John Lapraik was produced exactly on the occasion described by the author. He says in that He says in that poem, 'On Fasten e'en we had a rockin.' I believe he has omitted the word rocking in the glossary. It is a term derived from those primitive times, when the countrywomen employed their spare hours in spinning on the rock, or distaff. The simple implement is a very portable one, and well fitted to the social inclination of meeting in a neighbour's house; hence the phrase of going a-rocking, or with the rock. As the connection the phrase had with the implement was forgotten, when the rock gave place to the spinning-wheel, the phrase came to be used by both sexes on social occasions, and men talk of going with their rocks as well as women. "It was at one of these rockings at our | house, when we had twelve or fifteen young | people with their rocks, that Lapraik's song, beginning When I upon thy bosom lean,' was sung, and we were informed who was the author. Upon this, Robert wrote his first epistle to Laipraik, and his second in reply to his answer. The verses to the Mouse and Mountain Daisy were composed on the occasions mentioned, and while the author was holding the plough; I could point out the particular spot where each was composed. Holding the plough was a favourite situation with Robert for poetic composition, and some of his best verses were produced while he was at that exercise. Several of the poems were produced for the purpose of bringing forward some favourite sentiment of the author. Robert had frequently remarked to me that he thought there was something peculiarly venerable in the phrase, 'Let us worship God,' used by a decent, sober head of a family, introducing family worship. To this sentiment of the author the world is indebted for the Cotter's Saturday Night. When my brother had some pleasure in view, in which I was thought fit to participate, we used frequently to walk together, when the weather was favourable, on the Sunday afternoons (those precious breathing times to the labouring part of the community), and enjoyed such Sundays as would make one regret to see their number abridged. It was in one of these walks that I first had the pleasure of hearing the author repeat the Cotter's Saturday Night. I do not recollect to have read or heard anything by which I was more highly electrified. The fifth and sixth stanzas, and the eight-pleasure in presenting to the public the eenth, thrilled with peculiar ecstacy through following letter, to the due understanding of my soul. I mention this to you, that you which a 1 few previous observations are may see what hit the taste of unlettered necessary. criticism. I should be glad to know, if the enlightened mind and refined taste of Mr. Roscoe, who has borne such honourable testimony to this poem, agrees with me in the selection. Fergusson, in his Hallow Fair of Edinburgh, I believe, likewise furnished a hint of the title and plan of the Holy Fair. The farcical scene the poet there describes was often a favourite field of his observation, and the most of the incidents he mentions had actually passed before his eyes. It is scarcely necessary to mention, that The Lament was composed on that unfortunate passage in his matrimonial history which I have mentioned in my letter to Mrs. Dunlop, after the first distraction of his feelings had a little subsided. The Twa Dogs was composed after the resolution of publishing was nearly taken. Robert had had a dog, which he called Luath, that was a great favourite. The dog had been killed by the wanton cruelty of some person the night before my father's death. Robert said to me, that he should like to confer such immortality as he could bestow upon his old friend Luath, and that he had a great mind to introduce something into the book, under the title of Stanzas to the Memory of a Quadruped Friend; but this plan was given up for the tale as it now stands. Cæsar was merely the creature of the poet's imagination, created for the purpose of holding chat with his favourite Luath. The first time Robert heard the spinnet played upon, was at the house of Dr. Lawrie, then minister of the parish of Loudon, now in Glasgow, having given up the parish in favour of his son. Dr. Lawrie has several daughters; one of them played; the father and mother led down the dance; the rest of the sisters, the brother, the poet, and the other guests, mixed in it. It was a delightful family scene for our poet, then lately introduced to the world. His mind was roused to a poetic enthusiasm, and the stanzas [which he wrote on the occasion] were left in the room where he slept. It was to Dr. Lawrie that Dr. Blacklock's letter was addressed, which my brother, in his letter to Dr. Moore, mentions as the reason of his going to | Edinburgh. LETTER OF GILBERT BURNS. (First inserted in the Second Edition.) The editor [Dr. Currie] has particular The biographer of Burns was naturally desirous of hearing the opinion of the friend and brother of the poet, on the manner in which he had executed his task, before a second edition should be committed to the press. He had the satisfaction of receiving this opinion, in a letter dated the 24th of August, approving of the Life in very obliging terms, and offering one or two trivial corrections as to names and dates chiefly, which are made in this edition. One or two observations were offered of a different kind. In the 319th page [corresponding to the 66th page of the present reprint of Dr. Currie's memoir], a quotation is made from the pastoral song, Ettrick Banks, and an explanation given of the phrase "mony feck," which occurs in this quotation. Supposing the sense to be complete after "mony," the editor had considered "feck" a rustic oath which confirmed the assertion. The words were, therefore, separated by a comma. Mr. Burns considered this an error. "Feck," he presumes, is the Scottish word for quantity, and " mony feck" to mean simply, very many. The editor, in yielding to this authority, expressed some hesitation, and hinted that the phrase "mony feck" was, in Mr. Burns's sense, a pleonasm, or barbarism, which deformed this beautiful song. His reply to this observation makes the first clause of the following letter. In the same communication he informed me, that the Mirror and the Lounger were proposed by him to the Conversation Club of Mauchline, and that he had thoughts of giving me his sentiments on the remarks I had made respecting the fitness of such works for such societies. The observations of such a man on such a subject, the editor conceived, would be received with particular interest by the public, and, having pressed earnestly for them, they will be found in the following letter. Of the value of this communication, delicacy towards his very respectable correspondent prevents him from expressing his opinion. The original letter is in the hands of Messrs. Cadell and Davies. by foreign intercourse, 'whose soul-proud science never taught to stray,' ever discovered barbarism in the song of Ettrick Banks. The story you have heard of the gable of my father's house falling down, is simply as follows (151):-When my father built his 'clay biggin,' he put in two stone-jambs, as they are called, and a lintel, carrying up a chimney in his clay-gable. The consequence was, that as the gable subsided, the jambs, remaining firm, threw it off its centre; and one very stormy morning, when my brother was nine or ten days old, a little before daylight, a part of the gable fell out, and the rest appeared so shattered, that my mother, with the young poet, had to be carried through the storm to a neighbour's house, where they remained a week till their own dwelling was adjusted. That you may not think too meanly of this house, or of my father's taste in building, by supposing the poet's description in the Vision (which is entirely a fancy picture) applicable to it, allow me to take notice to you, that the house consisted of a kitchen in one end, and a room in the other, with a fire-place and chimney; that my father had constructed a concealed bed in the kitchen, with a small closet at the end, of the same materials with the house; and when altogether cast over, outside and in, with lime, it had a neat, comfortable appearance, such as no family of the same rank, in the present improved style of living, would think themselves ill-lodged in. I wish likewise to take notice in passing, that although the 'Cotter' in the Saturday Night, is an exact copy of my father in his manners, his family-devotion, and exhortations, yet the other parts of the description do not apply to our family. None of us were ever 'at service out amang the neibors roun'. Instead of our depositing our “Dinning, Dumfries-shire, 24th Oct., 1800. "DEAR SIR.-Yours of the 17th instant came to my hand yesterday, and I sit down this afternoon to write you in return; but when I shall be able to finish all I wish to say to you, I cannot tell. I am sorry your conviction is not complete respecting feck. There is no doubt, that if you take two English words which appear synonymous to mony feck, and judge by the rules of English construction, it will appear a barbarism. I believe, if you take this mode of translating'sair-won penny fee' with our parents, my from any language, the effect will frequentiy father laboured hard, and lived with the be the same. But if you take the expression most rigid economy, that he might be able mony feck to have, as I have stated it, the to keep his children at home, thereby having same meaning with the English expression an opportunity of watching the progress of very many (and such licence every translator our young minds, and forming in them must be allowed, especially when he trans-early habits of piety and virtue; and from lates from a simple dialect which has never been subjected to rule, and where the precise meaning of words is, of consequence, not minutely attended to), it will be well enough. One thing I am certain of, that ours is the sense universally understood in this country; and I believe no Scotsman who has lived contented at home, pleased with the simple manners, the simple melodies, and the simple dialect of his native country, unvitiated this motive alone did he engage in farmingthe source of all his difficulties and dis tresses. "When I threatened you in my last with a long letter on the subject of the books I recommended to the Mauchline Club, and the effects of refinement of taste on the labouring classes of men, I meant merely to write you on that subject, with the view that, in some future communication to the public, you might take up the subject more at large; that by means of your happy manner of writing, the attention of people of power and influence might be fixed on it. I had little expectation, however, that I should overcome my indolence, and the difficulty of arranging my thoughts so far as to put my threat in execution; till some time ago, before I had finished my harvest, having a call from Mr. Ewart (152), with a message from you, pressing me to the performance of this task, I thought myself no longer at liberty to decline it, and resolved to set about it with my first leisure. I will now, therefore, endeavour to lay before you what has occurred to my mind, on a subject where people capable of observation, and of placing their remarks in a proper point of view, have seldom an opportunity of making their remarks on real life. In doing this, I may perhaps be led sometimes to write more in the manner of a person communicating information to you which you did not know before, and at other times more in the style of egotism, than I would choose to do to any person, in whose candour, and even personal good will, I had less confidence. "There are two several lines of study that open to every man as he enters life: the one, the general science of life, of duty, and of happiness; the other, the particular arts of his employment or situation in society, and the several branches of knowledge therewith connected. This last is certainly indispensable, as nothing can be more disgraceful than ignorance in the way of one's own profession; and whatever a man's speculative knowledge may be, if he is ill-informed there, he can neither be a useful nor a respectable member of society. It is, nevertheless, true, that the proper study of mankind is man ;' to consider what duties are incumbent on him as a rational creature, and a member of society; how he may increase or secure his happiness; and how he may prevent or soften the many miseries incident to human life. I think the pursuit of happiness is too frequently confined to the endeavour after the acquisition of wealth. I do not wish to be considered as an idle declaimer against riches, which, after all that can be said against them, will still be considered by men of common sense as objects of importance, and poverty will be felt as a sore evil, after all the fine things that can be said of its advantages; on the contrary, I am of opinion, that a great proportion of the miseries of life arise from the want of economy, and a prudent attention to money, or the ill-directed or intemperate pursuit of it. But however valuable riches may be as the means of com| fort, independence, and the pleasure of doing good to others, yet I am of opinion that they may be, and frequently are, purchased at too great a cost, and that sacrifices are made in the pursuit, which the acquisition cannot compensate. I remember hearing my worthy teacher, Mr. Murdoch, relate an anecdote to my father, which I think sets this matter in a strong light, and perhaps was the origin, or at least tended to promote this way of thinking in me. When Mr. Murdoch left Alloway, he went to teach and reside in the family of an opulent farmer who had a number of sons. A neighbour coming on a visit, in the course of conversation, asked the father how he meant to dispose of his sons. The father replied that he had not determined. The visitor said that, were he in his place, he would give them all good education and send them abroad, without, perhaps, having a precise idea where. The father objected, that many young men lost their health in foreign countries, and many their lives. True, replied the visitor, but as you have a number of sons, it will be strange if some one of them does not live and make a fortune. "Let any person who has the feelings of a father, comment on this story; but though few will avow, even to themselves, that such views govern their conduct, yet do we not daily see people shipping off their sons (and who would do so by their daughters also, if there were any demand for them), that they may be rich or perish? "The education of the lower classes is seldom considered in any other point of view than as the means of raising them from that station to which they were born, and of making a fortune. I am ignorant of the mysteries of the art of acquiring a fortune without any thing to begin with, and cannot calculate, with any degree of exactness, the difficulties to be surmounted, the mortifications to be suffered, and the degradation of character to be submitted to, in lending one's self to be the minister of other people's vices, or in the practice of rapine, fraud, oppression, or dissimulation, in the progress; but even when the wished-for end is attained, it may be questioned whether happiness be much increased by the change. When I have seen a fortunate adventurer of the lower ranks of life returned from the East or West Indies, with all the hauteur of a vulgar mind accustomed to be served by slaves, assuming a character, which, from early habits of life, he is ill fitted to support-displaying magnificence which raises the envy of some, |