labours, nor be idle when unobserved; and chiefly
to fear the Lord, and duly, morn and night, implore
his aid and counsel. While this is going on, a gentle
rap is heard at the door, and a strappan youth, who
"takes the mother's e'e," is introduced by Jenny as
a neighbour lad, who, among other things, had un-
dertaken to see her safely home. The visit is well
taken, for he is neither wild nor worthless, but come
of honest parents, and is, moreover, blate and bash-
ful, and for inward joy can scarce behave himself.
The mother knows well what makes him so grave;
the father converses about horses and ploughs,
while the supper-table is spread, and milk from her
only cow, and a
"well-hained cheese," of a peculiar
flavour, and a twelvemonth old "sin' lint was in
the bell," are placed by the frugal and happy mother
before the lothful stranger.

"The cheerfu' supper done, wi' serious face
They round the ingle form a circle wide,
The sire turns o'er, wi' patriarchal grace,
The big ha' bible, ance his father's pride:

His bonnet reverently is laid aside,

His lyart haffets wearing thin and bare,
Those strains that once did sweet in Zion glide,

He wales a portion with judicious care,

And let us worship God,' he says with solemn air."

The canker-tooth of the most envious criticism cannot well fasten on a work in every respect so perfect; nor, in expatiating upon it, are we going out of the direct line of biography: it is known to be, in part, a picture of the household of William Burness. From pictures of national manners and sentiment we must turn to matters more personal.

Of the maidens of Kyle, who contributed by their charms of mind or person to the witchery of the love

songs of Burns, I can give but an imperfect account. The young woman who "had pledged her soul to meet him in the field of matrimony, yet jilted him with peculiar circumstances of mortification," he has not named; and I believe her charms, real or imaginary, have remained unsung. The Tibbie who scorned the advances of the Poet, and

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spak na, but gade by like stoure," was a neighbouring laird's daughter, with a portion of two acres of peatmoss, and twenty pounds Scots. The Peggy who inspired some of his early lyrics was the sister of a Carrick farmer, a girl prudent as well as beautiful. The Nannie, who lived among the mosses near the Lugar, was a farmer's daughter, Agnes Fleming by name, and charmed the sweet song of "My Nannie O" from him, by the elegance of her "Green grow person and the melody of her voice. the Rashes," was a general tribute paid to the collective charms of the lasses of Kyle; there were few with whom he had not held tryste,

"Beneath the milk white thorn that scents the evening gale."

Some of those maidens were but, perhaps, the chance inspirers of his lyric strains. "Highland Mary," and "Mary in Heaven," of whom he has so passionately sung, was a native of Ardrossan. Those who think that poetry embalms high names alone, ladies of birth and rank must prepare to be disappointed, for Mary Campbell was a peasant's daughter, and lived, when she captivated the Poet, in the humble situation of dairy-maid in "the castle o' Montgomery." That she was beautiful, we have other testimony than that of Burns: her charms attracted gazers, if not

wooers, and she was exposed to the allurements of wealth. She withstood all temptation, and returned the affection of the Poet with the fervour of inno

cence and youth. "After a pretty long trial," says Burns, "of the most ardent, reciprocal affection, we met, by appointment, on the second Sunday of May, in a sequestered spot on the banks of the Ayr, where we spent a day in taking a farewell, before she should embark for the West Highlands, to arrange matters among her friends for our projected change of life. At the close of the autumn following, she crossed the sea to meet me at Greenock, where she had scarce landed, when she was seized with a malignant fever, which hurried my dear girl to her grave in a few days, before I could even learn of her illness."-"This adieu was performed," says Cromek, "in a striking and moving way; the lovers stood on each side of a small brook, they laved their hands in the stream, and holding a Bible between them, pronounced their vows to be faithful to each other. They parted never to meet again!"

The Bible on which they vowed their vows, is in the possession of the sister of Mary Campbell, at Ardrossan. On the first volume is written by the hand of Burns: "And ye shall not swear by my name falsely; I am the Lord.- Leviticus, chap, xix, v. 12." On the second volume, the same hand has written; "Thou shalt not forswear thyself, but shall perform unto the Lord thine oaths.--St. Matthew, chap. v., v. 33." And on the blank leaves of both columns is impressed his mark as a mason, and also signed below, "Robert Burns, Mossgiel."

These are touching insertions, but not more so than the verses in which he has embodied the parting

Scene:

"How sweetly bloomed the gay-green birk,

How rich the hawthorn's blossom,

As underneath their fragrant shade

I clasped her to my bosom.
The golden hours on angel wings
Flew o'er me and my dearie,
For dear to me as light and life,

Was my sweet Highland Mary."

To the same affectionate young creature, Burns addressed a strain of scarcely inferior beauty, beginning with

"Will ye go to the Indies my Mary,

And leave old Scotia's shore?"

Nor did he forget her worth in after-life; his heart and fancy frequently travelled back to early scenes of joy or sorrow. Who the Mary Morison was on whom he wrote one of his early songs, I have not been able to discover; nor do I know the name of the heroine of "Cessnock Banks." Their beauty seems like that of many others, to have passed suddenly over him, touching his fancy without affecting his heart. The Eliza, from whom he seems so loth to part, in one of his songs, was, I am told by John Galt, less beautiful than witty.

To the charms of Jean Armour I have already alluded. This young woman, the daughter of a devout man and master-mason, lived in Mauchline, and was distinguished less for the beauty of her person, than for the grace of her dancing and the melody of her voice. Burns seems to have become attached to her soon after the loss of his Highland

Mary. In one of his joyous moments, he warned the maidens of Mauchline against reading inflammatory novels," their fine Tom Jones and Grandisons" served only as snares, he said, for their innocence :

"Such witching books

Are baited hooks

For rakish rooks

Like Rob Mossgiel."

Who those maidens were he tells us in rhyme :

"In Mauchline there dwells six proper young belles,
The pride of the place and its neighbourhood a';-
-Miss Miller is fine and Miss Markland's divine,
Miss Smith she has wit and Miss Betty is braw,
There's beauty and fortune to get with Miss Morton,
But Armour's the jewel for me o' them a'."

How the Poet and his Jean became acquainted is easily imagined by those who know the facilities for meetings of the young which fairs, races, dances, weddings, house-heatings, and kirn-suppers afford; of the growth of affection between them it is less easy to give an account; we must trace it by the uncertain light of his poetry.

In the " Epistle to Davie" he alludes to Jean Armour by name, and calls her his own; in the "Vision" he compliments the Muse of Kyle by comparing her clean straight and taper limbs to those of his bonnie Jean; and in one of his lyrics he speaks of the sighs and vows which have passed between them among the sequestered hills. It would seem, however, that during the season of their courtship the Poet felt less sure of the continuance of her affection than he had looked for, and something like change may be inferred from his