McDiarmid : *" Rousseau, we all know, when dying, wished to be carried into the open air, that he might obtain a parting look of the glorious orb of day. A night or two before Burns left Brow, he drank tea with Mrs Craig, widow of the minister of Ruthwell. His altered appearance excited much silent sympathy; and the evening being beautiful, and the sun shining brightly through the casement, Miss Craig (now Mrs Henry Duncan), was afraid the light might be too much for him, and rose with the view of letting down the window blinds. Burns immediately guessed what she meant; and, regarding the young lady with a look of great benignity, said,Thank you, my dear, for your kind attention; but, oh, let him shine; he will not shine long for me.""

On the 18th, despairing of any benefit from the sea, our poet came back to Dumfries. Mr Allan Cunningham, who saw him arrive "visibly changed in his looks, being with difficulty able to stand upright, and reach his own door," has given a striking picture, in one of his essays, of the state of popular feeling in the town during the short space which intervened between his return and his death." Dumfries was like a besieged place. It was known he was dying, and the anxiety, not of the rich and the learned only, but of the mechanics and peasants, exceeded all belief. Wherever two or three people stood together, their talk was of Burns, and of him alone. They spoke of his history-of his person-of his works-of his family -of his fame-and of his untimely and approach

* I take the opportunity of once mo e acknowledging my great obligations to this gentleman, who is, I understand, connected by his marriage with the family of the poet.

A warmth and an enthusiasm which Dumfries to my remembrance. was saying-the opinions of the am. Maxwell was a kind and a skilful caught up and reported from and from house to house." humour." Cunningham adds, “was w: never forsook him. He Das fellow volunteers with a smile, side with his eyes wet, and the awkward squad fire over was smile the hopes of his had lived long enough.

the eager yet decorous ownsmen increased. It is men of Dumfries to meet → bans of remission from laan opportunity of

Suda". Tude of all ranks and of then: on some in

sest and forgiven; they

Tech: his com

ce of him with

spirit, whose

ness;

ple were with me. He lay in a plain unadorned coffin, with a linen sheet drawn over his face; and on the bed, and around the body, herbs and flowers were thickly strewn, according to the usage of the country. He was wasted somewhat by long illbut death had not increased the swarthy hue of his face, which was uncommonly dark and deep. ly marked-his broad and open brow was pale and serene, and around it his sable hair lay in masses, slightly touched with grey. The room where he lay was plain and neat, and the simplicity of the poet's humble dwelling pressed the presence of death more closely on the heart than if his bier had been embellished by vanity, and covered with the blazonry of high ancestry and rank. We stood and gazed on him in silence for the space of several minutes-we went, and others succeeded usnot a whisper was heard. This was several days after his death."

On the 25th of July, the remains of the poet were removed to the Trades-hall, where they lay in state until next morning. The volunteers of Dumfries were determined to inter their illustrious comrade (as indeed he had anticipated) with military honours. The chief persons of the town and neighbourhood resolved to make part of the procession; and not a few travelled from great distances to witness the solemnity. The streets were lined by the Fencible Infantry of Angus-shire, and the Cavalry of the Cinque Ports, then quartered at Dumfries, whose commander, Lord Hawkesbury, (now Earl of Liverpool,) although he had always declined a personal introduction to the poet,* officiated as one of the chief mourners. "The mul

* So Mr Syme has informed Mr M'Diarmid.

ing fate, with a warmth and an enthusiasm which will ever endear Dumfries to my remembrance. All that he said or was saying-the opinions of the physicians, (and Maxwell was a kind and a skilful one,) were eagerly caught up and reported from street to street, and from house to house."

"His good humour," Cunningham adds, "was unruffled, and his wit never forsook him. He looked to one of his fellow volunteers with a smile, as he stood by the bed-side with his eyes wet, and said, John, don't let the awkward squad fire over me.' He repressed with a smile the hopes of his friends, and told them he had lived long enough. As his life drew near a close, the eager yet decorous solicitude of his fellow townsmen increased. It is the practice of the young men of Dumfries to meet in the streets during the hours of remission from labour, and by these means I had an opportunity of witnessing the general solicitude of all ranks and of all ages. His differences with them on some important points were forgotten and forgiven; they thought only of his genius-of the delight his compositions had diffused-and they talked of him with the same awe as of some departing spirit, whose voice was to gladden them no more.' "*

"A tremour now pervaded his frame," says Dr Currie, on the authority of the physician who attended him; " his tongue was parched; and his mind sunk into delirium, when not roused by conversation. On the second and third day the fever increased, and his strength diminished." On the fourth, July 21st, 1796, Robert Burns died.

99

"I went to see him laid out for the grave,' says Mr Allan Cunningham; "several elder peo

* In the London Magazine, 1824. Article, "Robert Burns and Lord Byron."

ple were with me. He lay in a plain unadorned coffin, with a linen sheet drawn over his face; and on the bed, and around the body, herbs and flowers were thickly strewn, according to the usage of the country. He was wasted somewhat by long illness; but death had not increased the swarthy hue of his face, which was uncommonly dark and deep. ly marked-his broad and open brow was pale and serene, and around it his sable hair lay in masses, slightly touched with grey. The room where he lay was plain and neat, and the simplicity of the poet's humble dwelling pressed the presence of death more closely on the heart than if his bier had been embellished by vanity, and covered with the blazonry of high ancestry and rank. We stood and gazed on him in silence for the space of several minutes-we went, and others succeeded usnot a whisper was heard. This was several days after his death."

On the 25th of July, the remains of the poet were removed to the Trades-hall, where they lay in state until next morning. The volunteers of Dumfries were determined to inter their illustrious comrade (as indeed he had anticipated) with military honours. The chief persons of the town and neighbourhood resolved to make part of the procession; and not a few travelled from great distances to witness the solemnity. The streets were lined by the Fencible Infantry of Angus-shire, and the Cavalry of the Cinque Ports, then quartered at Dumfries, whose commander, Lord Hawkesbury, (now Earl of Liverpool,) although he had always declined a personal introduction to the poet, * officiated as one of the chief mourners. "The mul

* So Mr Syme has informed Mr M'Diarmid.