XIV. On a Noted Corcomb. LIGHT lay the earth on Billy's breast, His skull will prop it under. [The above is printed from the original MS. in the Poet's hand-writing.] XV. On Miss Jean Scott, of Ecclefechan." XVI. ON A Hen-peck'd Country Squire. As father Adam first was fool'd, The devil rul'd the woman. [The Poet was not satisfied with these lines--in a second attempt he varied the satire.] XVII. On the Same. O DEATH, had'st thou but spar'd his life E'en as he is, cauld in his graff, [He was not, however, satisfied with his second epigram on this parsimonious dame; he turned the matter over in his mind, brought in a little learning, and sharpened the point of his satire.] XVIII. On the Same. ONE Queen Artemisia, as old stories tell, [The young lady, the subject of these complimentary lines, dwelt in Ayr, and cheered the Poet not only with her sweet looks, but with her sweet voice. Tradition relates no more. The name of Stuart is sometimes substituted for Scott, but with little propriety, for the point is lost by the change.] Burns, on repassing the Highland border, in 1787, turned round and bade farewell to the hospitalities of the north in these happy lines. Another account states that he was called on for a toast at table, and gave "The Highland Welcome," much to the pleasure of all who heard him.] In respect for the love and affection he'd shewn her, She reduc'd him to dust and she drank up the powder. But Queen Netherplace, of a diff'rent complexion, When call'd on to order the fun'ral direction, Would have ate her dead lord, on a slender pretence, [pense! Not to show her respect, but-to save the ex [All that seems necessary to be said of this sordid lady has been told by the Poet. In the original MS. he has written "Campbell of Netherplace."] XIX. The Highland Welcome. WHEN Death's dark stream I ferry o'er, XX. EXTEMPORE, On William Smellie, AUTHOR OF THE PHILOSOPHY OF NATURAL HISTORY, SHREWD Willie Smellie to Crochallan came, XXI. Verses WRITTEN ON A WINDOW OF THE INN AT CARRON. WE cam' na here to view your warks [He belonged to a club of which Burns was a member, called the Crochallan Fencibles, the members of which met in Douglas's tavern, in the Anchor Close, Edinburgh. The Club took its name from a beautiful plaintive Highland Air, entitled, Cro Chalein-literally Colin's Castle-an air which Douglas occasionally sang with much effect to his guests. Smellie was a singular person, disregarded nicety of dress, loved wine and sociality, and sallies of humour; yet possessed a warm and generous heart. The above lines also form a part of the Third Epistle to Robert Graham, Esq., of Fintray.] But whan we tirl'd at your door, Your porter dought na hear us; Sae may, shou'd we to hell's yetts come, Your billy Satan sair us! * [The reason assigned for refusing to show the Carron Foundries to Burns was that he called on a Sunday. This could hardly be he knew that the labour which rendered the place interesting had ceased; that the furnaces were mostly extinguished, and the "warks" not to be seen. He perhaps sought admittance without an introduction. On his second visit, he was received with a civility that soothed him: he made one remark-"The blazing furnaces and melting iron realized the description of the giants forging thunderbolts."] * [Burns, it would appear, had gone to Carron on a Sunday, and given in an assumed name for permission to see the Works. The following lines, in answer to the Poet, were written by Mr. Benson, one of the clerks. "If you came here to see our works, Than to give a fictitious name, In hopes to cheat the Devil. Six days a week to you and all + [When Burns visited Stirling in 1787, and beheld the ruins of that princely place where Scottish parliaments once assembled, and princes dispensed justice, he was stung to the heart, and, it has been stated, vented his indignation in these lines. The last couplet is now restored. The present lovely scion of the House of Brunswick can afford to smile at the spleen of a disappointed poet. He was not the only one who felt attachment to the House of Stuart. The "The original lines were certainly as strongly marked by an unworthy feeling towards the reigning, as by a generous affection towards the dethroned family; but the sin of writing them is unnecessarily aggravated by Mr. Lockhart, when he says, "The last couplet, alluding, in the coarsest style, to the melancholy state of the good king's health at the time, was indeed an outrage which no political prejudice could have made a gentleman approve." king was not seized with his melancholy indisposition till the month of October in the ensuing year. In that couplet -here, by the way, printed for the first time-Burns seems to have merely proceeded upon a prevailing impression of at least the Jacobite part of the community, respecting the intellectual character of the family of Brunswick-Lunenburg. How far the impression was from the truth it would be ludicrous to advert to in serious terms; but it is curious now to perceive traces of the extent to which it animated a portion of British society in the past age. It appears that the impassioned peasant of Kyle was not, in the use of this rash and coarse expression, more guilty of lese-majesty than another individual, who, though under the same political prepossessions, was certainly the last whom Mr. Lockhart could have expected to be guilty of any such out-burst. In a letter written by Bishop Forbes, of the Scottish Episcopal Church at Leith, to Bishop Gordon, of London, and of which a copy, under Forbes's hand, rests before us, is the following passage: You know the famous Dr. Johnson has been among us. Several anecdotes could I give you of him; but one is most singular. Dining one day at the table of one of the Lords of Session, the company stumbled upon characters, particularly, it would appear, of kings. 'Well,' said the bluff doctor, George the First was a robber, George the Second a fool, and George the Third is an idiot!' How the company stared I leave you to judge. It was far from being polite, especially considering the table at which he was entertained, and that he himself is a pensioner at 300 a-year.' It is, indeed, just possible that no such saying was ever uttered, but much more likely that it was. If Burns's imprudence was great, it was soon XXII. Lines on viewing Stirling Palace. A race outlandish fills their throne- XXIII. The Reproof. Į RASH mortal, and slanderous Poet, thy name Shall no longer appear in the records of fame; repented of. Coming back to Stirling in a few weeks, and finding that the verses had given offence, he broke the pane on which they were inscribed."-THE LAND OF BURNS, a beautifully embellished work, edited by Professor Wilson and Robert Chambers.] [A writer in the Paisley Magazine, December 1828, gives the following more satisfactory account of these celebrated lines, involving circumstances which reflect the brightest lustre on the character of the Ayr-shire Poet:-"They were not the composition of Burns, but of his friend Nicol. This we state from the testimony of those who themselves knew the fact as it truly stood, and who were well acquainted with the high-wrought feelings of honour and friendship which induced Burns to remain silent under the obloquy which their affiliation entailed upon him. The individual whose attention the lines first attracted was a clerk in the employment of the Carron Iron Company, then travelling through! the country collecting accounts, or receiving orders, who : happened to arrive immediately after the departure of the poet and his friend. On inquiry, he learned that the last occupant of the apartment was the far-famed Burns, and on this discovery he immediately transferred a copy of the lines to his memorandum-book of orders, made every person as wise as himself on the subject, and penned an answer to them, which, with the lines themselves, soon spread over the country, and found a place in every periodical of the day. To this poetic critic of the Carron Works do we owe the first hint of Burns being the author of this tavern effusion. They who saw the writing on the glass know that it was not the hand-writing of the poet; but this critic, who knew neither his autograph nor his person, chose to consider it as such, and so announced it to the world. On his return to Stirling, Burns was both irritated and grieved to find that this idie and mischievous tale had been so widely spread and so generally believed. The reason of the cold and constrained reception he met with from some distinguished friends,,| which at the time he could not account for, was now explained, and he felt in all its bitterness the misery of being innocently blamed for a thing which he despised as unworthy of his head and heart. To disavow the authorship was to draw down popular indignation on the head of Nicol-a storm which would have annihilated him. Rather than ruin the interests of that friend, he generously and magnanimously, or, as some less fervent mind may think, foolishly, devoted himself to unmerited obloquy, by remaining silent, and suffering the story to circulate uncontradicted. friend who was with Burns when he indignantly smashed the obnoxious pane with the butt end of his whip, and who was perfectly aware of the whole circumstances as they really stood, long and earnestly pleaded with him to contradict the story that had got wind, and injured him so much in public estimation. It was with a smile of peculiar melancholy that Burns made this noble and characteristic reply: I know I am not the author; but I'll be damned ere I betray him. It would ruin him-he is my friend!' It is unnecessary to add that to this resolution he ever after remained firm."] The [The imprudence of the lines on Stirling Palace was hinted to the Poet by a friend; on which he took out his diamond, saying, "O, I mean to reprove myself," walked to the window, and scratched The Reproof on the pane.] Dost not know, that old Mansfield, who writes like the Bible, [libel? Says, The more 'tis a truth, Sir, the more 'tis a XXIV. WRITTEN UNDER THE PICTURE OF THE CELEBRATED MISS BURNS.* CEASE, ye prudes, your envious railing, True it is, she had one failing Had a woman ever less? XXV. Johnny Deep. HERE am I, Johnny Peep, And these three sheep saw me; And so Johnny Peep gets free.† XXVI. The Henpeck'd Husband. 1 CURS'd be the man, the poorest wretch in life, *["The Miss Burns of these lines was well known to the bucks of Edinburgh in the days of the Poet's abode in the metropolis. There is a letter still extant, addressed by Burns, in behalf of his beauteous namesake, to the magistrates of Edinburgh, in which she is made ironically to claim their protection for a laxer system of social morality, and a freer intercourse betwixt youth and beauty."-CUNNINGHAM.] An men exclaimed, "In God's name, who are you?" explanation ensued, and the happy party did not separate the same day they met.] ["It is related that one day the lady of a house where the Poet dined expressed herself with less civility than he expected about the depth of her husband's potations and his habits of extravagance. Her freedom of tongue was rewarded by these sharp verses."-CUNNINGHAM.] of the Poet.] [There is some character, if little poetry, in the above [During the first Highland tour of the Poet, he halted impromptu. Burns was one day at a cattle-market, held at Inverary; but, on finding himself neglected by the innin a town in Cumberland, and, in the bustle that prevails keeper, whose house was filled with visiters to his Grace on these occasions, he lost sight of some of the friends who the Duke of Argyll, he expressed in these verses his sense accompanied him. He pushed to a tavern, opened the door of the incivility with which he was treated. Tradition speaks of every room, and merely looked in, till at last he came of a pursuit which took place on the part of "The Campto one in which three jolly Cumberland blades were enjoy-bell," and of a determination not to be soothed on the part ing themselves. As he withdrew his head, one of them shouted "Come in, Johnny Peep." Burns obeyed the call, seated himself at the table, and, in a short time, was the life and soul of the party. In the course of their merriment, it was proposed that each should write a stanza of poetry, and put it with half-a-crown below the candlestick, with this stipulation, that the best poet was to have his halfcrown returned, while the other three were to be expended to treat the party. What the others wrote has now sunk into oblivion. The stanza of the Ayr-shire ploughman being read, a roar of laughter followed, and, while the palm of victory was unanimously voted to Burns, one of the English [Burns has himself related the origin of this sally:"Stopping at a merchant's shop in Edinburgh, a friend of mine, one day, put Elphinstone's Translation of Martial into my hand, and desired my opinion of it. I asked permission to write my opinion on a blank leaf of the book; which being granted, I wrote this epigram."] (Willie Michie was schoolmaster of Cleish parish, in Fife-shire, and became acquainted with Burns during his first visit to Edinburgh, in 1787. His name is not mentioned in all the correspondence of the Poet, nor is he numbered amongst his admirers or friends.] [It was a favourite practice to ask the Poet for a blessing, even where he was a guest. His readiness was generally known; and whatever he said was gratefully remembered.] [The name of the person on whom this terrible epitaph was composed is not known. Mr. Cromek used to recite it, and say that he had sought in vain to discover who the Walter was against whom it was directed. The name might be found; but, in gratifying idle curiosity, much pain would be inflicted.] [It is related that, one evening, at table, when wine and wit were flowing, Grose, delighted with some of the sailies of Burns, requested the honour of a couplet upon himself. The Poet eyed the corpulent antiquarian for a minute's space or so, and then repeated the above epigram amid roars of laughter.] XXXVI. Lines, WRITTEN ON A PANE OF GLASS, IN THE INN AT MOFFATT. ASK why God made the gem so small, And why so huge the granite? Because God meant mankind should set The higher value on it.]] XXXVII. Lines, spoken extempore, ON BEING APPOINTED TO THE EXCISE. SEARCHING auld wives' barrels, That clarty barm should stain my laurels; These movin' things ca'd wives and weans Wad move the very hearts o' stanes !¶ XXXVIII. Verses ADDRESSED TO THE LANDLADY OF THE INN AT ROSSLYN, My blessings on you, sonsy wife; I ne'er was here before; You've gi'en us walth for horn and knife, Nae heart could wish for more. [The Poet was stopped by a storm once in Clydesdale, and on Sunday went to Lamington Kirk; the day was so rough, the kirk so cold, and the sermon so little to his liking, that he left his poetic protest in the pew where he had been sitting.] [One day, while Burns was at Moffat, "The charming lovely Davies of one of his songs rode past, accompanied by a lady tall and portly. On a friend asking the Pet why God made one lady so large, and Miss Davies so little, he replied in the words of the epigram. No one has apologized [' so handsomely for "scrimpit stature."] [That the Poet delighted not in the name of gauger is well known; yet he would allow no one to speak ill of the Excise but himself. He was strict, but merciful; the smuggler had no chance of escape from him, while to the country purchaser he was very indulgent.] Heav'n keep you free frae care and strife, Till far ayont fourscore; And, while I toddle on through life, I'll ne'er gang by your door. XXXIX. On Grizzel Grim. HERE lies with death auld Grizzel Grim, Lincluden's ugly witch; O Death, how horrid is thy taste To lie with such a b! XL. Epitaph on W STOP, Thief! dame Nature cried to Death, XLI. On Mr. Burton. * HERE cursing, swearing Burton lies, * [On one occasion Burns met at the festive board a dashing young Englishman of the name of Burton, who became very importunate that the poet should compose an epitaph for him. In vain the bard objected that he was not sufficiently acquainted with Burton's character and habits to qualify him for the task; the request was constantly repeated with a "Dem my eyes, Burns, do write an epitaph for me; Oh, Dem my blood, do, Burns, write an epitaph for me." Overcome by his importunity, Burns at last took out his pencil and produced the above. It operated like a shower-bath upon poor Burton, but electrified the rest of the company.] (When Mrs. Kemble performed, in 1794, the part of Yarico at the Dumfries theatre, Burns was in Mrs. Riddel's box, and was deeply moved by her natural and pathetic acting. He took out a bit of paper, wrote these lines with a pencil, and had them handed to her at the conclusion of the piece.] [John Syme, of Ryedale, was the constant companion of Burns, and these lines were spoken to him in answer to an invitation to dine, in which he promised the "first of company and the first of cookery." He was a gentleman of education and talent, difficult to please in the pleasures of the table; a wit in his way, an epigramatist and rhymer, an admirable teller of a story, and altogether a convivial and well-informed man. "The acquaintance which Burns maintained with a considerable number of the gentry of his neighbourhood was not favourable to him. They frequently sent him game from their estates, and disdained not to come to his house to partake of it. The large quantities of rum which flowed XLII. On Mrs. Kemble. † KEMBLE, thou cur'st my unbelief XLIII. Ertempore, to Mr. Syme, ON REFUSING TO DINE WITH HIM. No more of your guests, be they titled or not, XLIV. To Mr. Syme, WITH A PRESENT OF A DOZEN OF PORTER. XLV. Inscription on a Goblet. THERE's death in the cup-sae beware! Nay, more-there is danger in touching; But wha can avoid the fell snare? The man and his wine's sae bewitching! || into his stores gratuitously, in consequence of seizures, as was then the custom, were also injurious. Yet, as far as circumstances left him to his own inclinations, he was a man of simple, as well as kindly, domestic habits. As he was often detained by company from the dinner provided for him by his wife, she sometimes, on a conjecture of his probable absence, would not prepare that meal for him. When he chanced to come home, and find no dinner ready, he was never in the least troubled or irritated, but would address himself with the greatest cheerfulness to any succedaneum that could be readily set before him. They generally had abundance of good Dunlop cheese, sent to them by their Ayr-shire friends. The poet would sit down to that wholesome fare, with bread and butter, and his book by his side, and seem, to any casual visiter, such as Miss Lewars, as happy as a courtier at the feasts of kings."— CHAMBERS.] § [Burns had a happy knack of paying compliments; and Syme abounded in humour, and in dry sarcastic sallies, such as the Poet loved. Ramsay of Ochtertyre said the pathos of Burns's conversation brought tears even to the cheeks of Mr. Syme, "albeit unused to the melting mood."] [One day after dinner at Ryedale, Burns wrote these lines on a goblet with his diamond. Syme would seem to have been less affected with the compliment than with defacing his crystal service, for he threw the goblet behind the fire. We are not told what the Poet thought; but it is said that Brown, the clerk of "Stamp-office Johnny," snatched the goblet out of the fire uninjured, and kept it as a relique till his death.] |