RULES AND REGULATIONS

TO BE OBSERVED IN

The Bachelors' Club.

another, and whoever of them has the majority of votes shall be duly elected-allowing the president the first vote, and the casting vote upon a par, but none other. Then, after a general toast to mistresses of the club, they shall dismiss.

6th. There shall be no private conversation carried on during the time of debate, nor shall any member interrupt another while he is speak

2d. When the club is met, the president, or, he failing, some one of the members, till he come, shall take his seat: then the other members shall seat themselves; those who are for one side of the question, on the president's right hand; and those who are for the other side on his left-which of them shall have the right hand is to be determined by the president. The president, and four of the members being present, shall have power to transact any ordinary part of the society's business.

3d. The club met and seated, the president shall read the question out of the club's book of records (which book is always to be kept by the president); then the two members nearest the president shall cast lots who of them shall speak first, and, according as the lot shall determine, the member nearest the president on that side shall deliver his opinion, and the member nearest on the other side shall reply to him; then the second member of the side that spoke first; then the second member of the side that spoke second and so on to the end of the company; but if there be fewer members on the one side than on the other, when all the members of the least side have spoken according to their places, any of them, as they please among themselves, may reply to the remaining members of the opposite side; when both sides have spoken, the president shall give his opinion, after which they may go over it a second or more times, and so continue the question.

4th. The club shall then proceed to the choice of a question for the subject of next night's meeting. The president shall first propose one, and any other member who chooses may propose more questions; and whatever one of them is most agreeable to the majority of the members shall be the subject of debate nextclub-night.

5th. The club shall, lastly, elect a new president for the next meeting: the president shall first name one, then any of the club may name

president for the first fault, doubling his share of the reckoning for the second, trebling it for the third, and so in proportion for every other fault; provided always, however, that any member may speak at any time after leave asked, and given by the president. All swearing and profane language, and particularly all obscene and indecent conversation, is strictly prohibited, under the same penalty as aforesaid in the first clause of this article.

7th. No member, on any pretence whatever, shall mention any of the club's affairs to any other person but a brother-member, under the pain of being excluded; and particularly if any member shall reveal any of the speeches or affairs of the club, with a view to ridicule or laugh at any of the rest of the members, he shall be for ever excommunicated from the society; and the rest of the members are desired, as much as possible, to avoid and have no communication with him as a friend or comrade.

8th. Every member shall attend at the meetings, without he can give a proper excuse for not attending; and it is desired that every one who cannot attend will send his excuse with some other member; and he who shall be absent three meetings without sending such excuse shall be summoned to the club-night, when, if he fail to appear, or send an excuse, he shall be excluded.

9th. The club shall not consist of more than sixteen members, all bachelors, belonging to the parish of Tarbolton; except a brother-member marry, and in that case he may be continued, if the majority of the club think proper. No person shall be admitted a member of this society, without the unanimous consent of the club; and any member may withdraw from the club altogether, by giving a notice to the president in writing of his departure.

10th. Every man proper for a member of this society must have a frank, honest, open heart; above any thing dirty or mean; and must be a professed lover of one or more of the female

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sex. No haughty self-conceited person, who looks upon himself as superior to the rest of the club, and especially no mean-spirited, worldly mortal, whose only will is to heap up money, shall upon any pretence whatever be admitted. In short, the proper person for this society is a cheerful, honest-hearted lad, who, if he has a friend that is true, and a mistress that is kind, and as much wealth as genteely to make both ends meet, is just as happy as this world can make him.*

The following interesting letter was addressed to Dr. Currie, the first biographer of Burns. It well deserves a place in this edition :

A LETTER OF GILBERT BURNS

ON

EDUCATION.

Dinning, Dumfries-shire, 24th Oct. 1800. DEAR SIR-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 that I wished 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. 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, of Manchester, 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,

[It appears that our poet made more preparation than might be supposed for the discussions of the society at Tarbolton. There were found some detached memoranda, evidently prepared for these meetings; and, amongst others, the heads of a speech on the question mentioned in p. 17, in which, as might be expected, he takes the imprudent side of the question. The following may serve as a farther specimen of the questions debated in the society at Tarbolton :"Whether do we derive more happiness from love or friend

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 comfort, 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.

ship?" "Whether between friends, who have no reason to doubt each other's friendship, there should be any reserve ?" "Whether is the savage man, or the peasant of a civilised country, in the most happy situation?" "Whether is a young man of the lower ranks of life likeliest to be happy, who has got a good education, and his mind well informed, or he who has just the education and information of those around him ?" CURRIE.]

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 anything to begin with, and cannot calculate, with any degreee 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, and the contempt of others-claiming an equality with the great, which they are unwilling to allow-inly pining at the precedence of the hereditary gentry-maddened by the polished insolence of some of the unworthy part of them-seeking pleasure in the society of men who can condescend to flatter him, and listen to his absurdity for the sake of a good dinner and good wine-I cannot avoid concluding that his brother, or companion, who, by a diligent application to the labours of agriculture, or some useful mechanic employment, and the careful husbanding of his gains, has acquired a competence in his station, is a much happier, and, in the eye of a person who can take an enlarged view of mankind, a much more respectable,

man.

But the votaries of wealth may be considered as a great number of candidates striving for a few prizes: and, whatever addition the successful may make to their pleasure or happiness, the disappointed will always have more to suffer, I am afraid, than those who abide contented in the station to which they were born. I wish, therefore, the education of the lower classes to be promoted and directed to their improvement as men, as the means of increasing their virtue, and opening to them new and dignified sources of pleasure and happiness. I have heard some people object to the education of the lower classes of men, as rendering them less useful, by abstracting them from their proper business; others, as tending to make them saucy to their

superiors, impatient of their condition, and turbulent subjects; while you, with more humanity, have your fears alarmed, lest the delicacy of mind, induced by that sort of education and reading I recommended, should render the evils of their situation insupportable to them. I wish to examine the validity of each of these objections, beginning with the one you have mentioned.

I do not mean to controvert your criticism of my favourite books, the Mirror and Lounger, although I understand there are people, who think themselves judges, who do not agree with you. The acquisition of knowledge, except what is connected with human life and conduct, or the particular business of his employment, does not appear to me to be the fittest pursuit for a peasant. I would say with the poet,

"How empty learning, and how vain is art,

Save where it guides the life, or mends the heart!" There seems to be a considerable latitude in the use of the word taste. I understand it to be the perception and relish of beauty, order, or any other thing, the contemplation of which supgives pleasure and delight to the mind. I pose it is in this sense you wish it to be understood. If I am right, the taste which these books are calculated to cultivate (besides the taste for fine writing, which many of the papers tend to improve and to gratify), is what is racter and conduct, as almost every paper reproper, consistent, and becoming in human chalates to these subjects.

I am sorry I have not these books by me, that I might point out some instances. I remember two; one, the beautiful story of La Roche, where, besides the pleasure one derives from a beautiful simple story, told in M'Kenzie's happiest manner, the mind is led to taste, with in deep affliction from habitual devotion and heartfelt rapture, the consolation to be derived trust in Almighty God. The other, the story of General W where the reader is led to have a high relish for that firmness of mind which disregards appearances, the common forms and vanities of life, for the sake of doing justice in a case which was out of the reach of human laws.

Allow me then to remark that if the morality of these books is subordinate to the cultivation of taste; that taste, that refinement of mind and delicacy of sentiment which they are intended to give, are the strongest guard and surest foundation of morality and virtue. Other moralists guard, as it were, the overt act; these papers, by exalting duty into sentiment, are calculated to make every deviation from rectitude and propriety of conduct painful to the mind

"Whose temper'd powers

Refine at length, and every passion wears A chaster, milder, more attractive mien."

I readily grant you that the refinement of mind which I contend for increases our sensibility to the evils of life; but what station of life is without its evils? There seems to be no such thing as perfect happiness in this world, and we must balance the pleasure and the pain which we derive from taste, before we can properly appreciate it in the case before us. I apprehend, that on a minute examination it will appear that the evils peculiar to the lower ranks of life derive their power to wound us more from the suggestions of false pride, and the "contagion of luxury, weak and vile," than the refinement of our taste. It was a favourite remark of my brothers that there was no part of the constitution of our nature to which we were more indebted than that by which "custom makes things familiar and easy" (a copy Mr. Murdoch used to set us to write); and there is little labour which custom will not make easy to a man in health if he is not ashamed of his employment, or does not begin to compare his situation with those he may see going about at their ease.

But the man of enlarged mind feels the respect due to him as a man; he has learned that no employment is dishonourable in itself; that while he performs aright the duties of that station in which God has placed him, he is as great as a king in the eyes of Him whom he is principally desirous to please; for the man of taste, who is constantly obliged to labour, must of necessity be religious. If you teach him only to reason, you may make him an atheist, a demagogue, or any vile thing; but if you teach him to feel, his feelings can only find their proper and natural relief in devotion and religious resignation. He knows that those people who are to appearance at ease are not without their share of evils, and that even toil itself is not destitute of advantages. He listens to the words of his favourite poet :

"Oh, mortal man, that livest here by toil,

Cease to repine and grudge thy hard estate! That like an emmet thou art ever moil, Is a sad sentence of an ancient date; And, certes, there is for it reason great; Although sometimes it makes thee weep and wail, And curse thy star, and early drudge, and late; Withouten that would come an heavier bale, Loose life, unruly passions, and diseases pale !" And while he repeats the words, the grateful recollection comes across his mind how often he has derived ineffable pleasure from the sweet song of "nature's darling child." I can say, from my own experience, that there is no sort of farm-labour inconsistent with the most refined and pleasurable state of the mind that I am acquainted with, thrashing alone excepted. That, indeed, I have always considered as insupportable drudgery, and think the ingenious mechanic who invented the thrashing-machine ought to have a statue among the benefactors

of his country, and should be placed in the niche next to the person who introduced the culture of potatoes into this island.

Perhaps the thing of most importance in the education of the common people is to prevent the intrusion of artificial wants. I bless the memory of my worthy father for almost every thing in the dispositions of my mind, and my habits of life, which I can approve of; and for none more than the pains he took to impress my mind with the sentiment, that nothing was more unworthy the character of a man than that his happiness should in the least depend on what he should eat or drink. So early did he impress my mind with this, that, although I was as fond of sweetmeats as children generally are, yet I seldom laid out any of the half-pence which relations or neighbours gave me at fairs in the purchase of them; and, if I did, every mouthful I swallowed was accompanied with shame and remorse; and to this hour I never indulge in the use of any delicacy but I feel a considerable degree of self-reproach and alarm for the degradation of the human character. Such a habit of thinking I consider as of great consequence, both to the virtue and happiness of men in the lower ranks of life. And thus, Sir, I am of opinion that, if their minds are early and deeply impressed with a sense of the dignity of man, as such; with the love of independence and of industry, economy and temperance, as the most obvious means of making themselves independent, and the virtues most becoming their situation, and necessary to their happiness; men in the lower ranks of life may partake of the pleasures to be derived from the perusal of books calculated to improve the mind and refine the taste, without any danger of becoming more unhappy in their situation, or discontented with it. Nor do I think there is any danger of their becoming less useful. There are some hours every day that the most constant labourer is neither at work nor asleep. These hours are either appropriated to amusement or to sloth. If a taste for employing these hours in reading were cultivated, I do not suppose that the return to labour would be more difficult. Every one will allow that the attachment to idle amusements, or even to sloth. has as powerful a tendency to abstract men from their proper business as the attachment to books; while the one dissipates the mind, and the other tends to increase its powers of selfgovernance.

To those who are afraid that the improvement of the minds of the common people might be dangerous to the state, or the established order of society, I would remark that turbulence and commotion are certainly very inimical to the feelings of a refined mind. Let the matter be brought to the test of experience and observation. Of what description of people are mobs and insurrections composed? are they not uni