of Bannockburn. This thought, in my solitary greatest modesty is the sure attendant of the wanderings, warmed me to a pitch of enthu- greatest merit. While you are sending me verses siasm on the theme of Liberty and Indepen-that even Shakspeare might be proud to own dence, which I threw into a kind of SCOTTISH you speak of them as if they were ordinary proode, fitted to the air that one might suppose to be the gallant ROYAL SCOT's address to his heroic followers on that eventful morning.

(Scots wha hae wi' Wallace bled, p. 195.)

So may God ever defend the cause of Truth and Liberty, as he did that day!—Amen.

P. S.-I showed the air to Urbani, who was

highly pleased with it, and begged me to make soft verses for it; but I had no idea of giving myself any trouble on the subject, till the accidental recollection of that glorious struggle for freedom, associated with the glowing ideas of some other struggles of the same nature, not quite so ancient, roused my rhyming mania. Clarke's set of the tune, with his bass, you will find in the Museum; though I am afraid that the air is not what will entitle it to a place in your elegant selection

No. XL.

THE SAME TO THE SAME.

Sept. 1798.

ductions! Your heroic ode is to me the noblest composition of the kind in the Scottish language. I happened to dine yesterday with a party of your friends, to whom I read it. They were all charmed with it, entreated me to find out a suitable air for it, and reprobated the idea of giving it a tune so totally devoid of interest or grandeur as Hey tuttie taitie. Assuredly your partiality for this tune must arise from the ideas associated in your mind by the tradition concerning it, for I never heard any person,and I have conversed again and again with the greatest enthusiasts for Scottish airs,—I say I never heard any one speak of it as worthy of

notice.

I have been running over the whole hundred airs, of which I lately sent you the list; and I think Lewie Gordon is most happily adapted to your ode; at least with a very slight variation of the fourth line, which I shall presently submit to you. There is in Lewie Gordon more of the grand than the plaintive, particularly when it is sung with a degree of spirit, which your words would oblige the singer to give it. I would have no scruple about substituting your ode in the room of Lewie Gordon, which has neither the interest, the grandeur, nor the poetry that characterise your verses. Now, the variation I have to suggest upon the last line of each verse, the only line too short for the air, is as follows:

Verse 1st,

2d,

3d,

Or to glorious victorie.

Chains-chains and slaverie. Let him, let him turn and flie. 4th, Let him bravely follow me. 5th, But they shall, they shall be free. 6th, Let us, let us do, or die!

I DARE say, my dear Sir, that you will begin to think my correspondence is persecution. No matter, I can't help it; a ballad is my hobbyhorse; which, though otherwise a simple sort of harmless, idiotical beast enough, has yet this blessed headstrong property, that when once it has fairly made off with a hapless wight, it gets 80 enamoured with the tinkle-gingle, tinklegingle of its own bells, that it is sure to run poor pilgarlick, the bedlam jockey, quite be- If you connect each line with its own verse, I yond any useful point or post in the common do not think you will find that either the sentiment or the expression loses any of its energy. The following song I have composed for The only line which I dislike in the whole of Oran-gaoil, the Highland air that, you tell me the song is, "Welcome to your gory bed.' in your last, you have resolved to give a place to in your book. I have this moment finished the song; so you have it glowing from the mint. If it suit you, well! if not, 'tis also well!

race of man.

Behold the hour the boat arrives, p. 193.)

Would not another word be preferable to welcome? In your next I will expect to be in formed whether you agree to what I have proposed. These little alterations I submit with the greatest deference.

The beauty of the verses you have made for Oran-gaoil will insure celebrity to the air.

No. XLI.

MR. THOMSON TO THE POET.

Edinburgh, 5th Sept. 1793.

I BELIEVE it is generally allowed that the

No. XLII.

THE POET TO MR. THOMSON.

September, 1793.

I HAVE received your list, my dear Sir, and here go my observations on it.

Down the burn Davie. I have this moment tried an alteration, leaving out the last half of the third stanza, and the first half of the last stanza, thus:

As down the burn they took their way,
And thro' the flowery dale;
His cheek to hers he aft did lay,

And love was aye the tale.

With "Mary, when shall we return,
Sic pleasure to renew ?"
Quoth Mary, "Love, I like the burn,
And aye shall follow you."†

Gill Morice I am for leaving out. It is a plaguey length; the air itself is never sung; and its place can well be supplied by one or two songs for fine airs that are not in your list. For instance, Craigieburn-wood and Roy's Wife. The first, beside its intrinsic merit, has novelty; and the last has high merit, as well as great celebrity. I have the original words of a song for the last air, in the hand-writing of the lady who composed it; and they are superior to any edition of the song which the public has yet

seen.

Highland Laddie. The old set will please a mere Scotch ear best; and the new an Italianized one. There is a third, and what Oswald calls the old Highland Laddie, which pleases me more than either of then. It is sometimes called Ginglan Johnnie; it being the air of an old humorous tawdry song of that name. You will find it in the Museum, I hae been at Crookie-den, &c. I would advise you, Thro' the wood laddie—I am decidedly of in this musical quandary, to offer up your prayopinion, that both in this, and There'll never beers to the muses for inspiring direction; and in peace till Jamie comes hame, the second or high part of the tune being a repetition of the first part an octave higher, is only for instrumental music, and would be much better omitted in singing.

Cowden-knowes. Remember in your index that the song in pure English to this tune, beginning

"When summer comes, the swains on Tweed,"

is the production of Crawford: Robert was his Christian name.

the meantime, waiting for this direction, bestow
a libation to Bacchus; and there is not a doubt
but you will hit on a judicious choice.
batum est.

Pro

Auld Sir Simon, I must beg you to leave out, and put in its place, The Quaker's wife.

Blythe hae I been o'er the hill, is one of the finest songs ever I made in my life; and besides, is composed on a young lady, positively the most beautiful, lovely woman in the world. As

I

purpose giving you the names and designations of all my heroines, to appear in some future edition of your work, perhaps half a century hence, you must certainly include the bonniest lass in a' the warld in your collection.

Daintie Davie, I have heard sung, nineteen thousand nine hundred and ninety-nine times, and always with the chorus to the low part of the tune; and nothing has surprised me so much as your opinion on this subject. If it will not suit, as I proposed, we will lay two of the stanzas together, and then make the chorus follow.

Laddie lie near me, must lie by me for some time. I do not know the air; and until I am complete master of a tune, in my own singing, (such as it is), I can never compose for it. My way is: I consider the poetic sentiment correspondent to my idea of the musical expression; then choose my theme; begin one stanza; when that is composed, which is generally the most difficult part of the business, I walk out, sit down, and then look out for objects in Fee him father-I enclose you Fraser's set nature around me, that are in unison or har- of this tune when he plays it slow; in fact, mony with the cogitations of my fancy, and he makes it the language of despair. I shall workings of my bosom; humming every now here give you two stanzas in that style; merely and then the air, with the verses I have fra- to try if it will be any improvement. med. When I feel my muse beginning to jade, possible, in singing, to give it half the pathos I retire to the solitary fireside of my study, and which Fraser gives it in playing, it would make there commit my effusions to paper; swinging an admirable pathetic song. I do not give these at intervals on the hind legs of my elbow-chair, verses for any merit they have. I composed by way of calling forth my own critical stric-them at the time in which Patie Allan's mitures, as my pen goes on. Seriously, this, at home, is almost invariably my way. What cursed egotism!

Mr. Thomson's list of songs for his publication. In his remarks, the bard proceeds in order, and goes through the whole; but on many of them he merely signifies his approbation. All his remarks of any im portance are presented to the reader.

This alteration Mr. Thomson has adopted, (or at least intended to adopt), instead of the last stanza of the original song, which is objectionable in point of delicacy.

Were it

ther died, that was about the back o' midnight; and by the leeside of a bowl of punch, which had overset every mortal in company, except the hautbois and the muse.

(Thou hast left me ever, Jamie, p. 239.)

Jockie and Jenny I would discard, and in its place would put There's nae luck about

the house, which has a very pleasant air; and which is positively the finest love-ballad in that style in the Scottish, or perhaps in any other language. When she cam ben she bobbet, as an air, is more beautiful than either, and in the andante way, would unite with a charming sentimental ballad.

Saw ye my father, is one of my greatest favourites. The evening before last, I wandered out, and began a tender song; in what I think is its native style. I must premise, that the old way, and the way to give most effect, is to have no starting note, as the fiddlers call it, but to burst at once into the pathos. Every country girl sings-Saw ye my father, &c.

My song is but just begun; and I should like, before I proceed, to know your opinion of it. I have sprinkled it with the Scottish dialect, but it may be easily turned into correct English. (p. 242.)

Todlin' hame. Urbani mentioned an idea of his, which has long been mine; that this air is highly susceptible of pathos; accordingly, you will soon hear him, at your concert, try it to a song of mine in the Museum, Ye banks and braes o' bonnie Doon.-One song more and I have done: Auld lang syne. The air is but mediocre; but the following song, the old song of the olden times, and which has never been in print, nor even in manuscript, until I took it down from an old man's singing, is enough to recommend any air.

(Auld lung syne, p. 191.)

No. XLII.

THE POET TO MR. THOMSON

September, 1793.

I AM happy, my dear sir, that my ode pleases you so much. Your idea," honour's bed," is, though a beautiful, a hackneyed idea; so, if you please, we will let the line stand as it is. I have altered the song as follows:

(Bannock-burn, p. 195.)

N. B.-I have borrowed the last stanza from the commnon stall edition of Wallace.

"A false usurper sinks in every foe,
And liberty returns with every blow."

A couplet worthy of Homer. Yesterday you had enough of my correspondence. The post goes, and my head aches miserably, One comfort; I suffer so much, just now, in this world, for last night's joviality, that I shall escape scotfree for it in the world to come. Amen!

No. XLIV.

MR. THOMSON TO THE POET.

12th September, 1793.

A THOUSAND thanks to you, my dear Sir, for your observations on the list of my songs. I am happy to find your ideas so much in unison with my own respecting the generality of the airs, as well as the verses. About some of them we differ, but there is no disputing about hobby horses. I shall not fail to profit by the remarks you make; and to re-consider the whole with

attention.

Now, I suppose I have tired your patience fairly. You must, after all is over, have a number of ballads, properly so called. Gill Morice, Tranent Muir, MPherson's Farewell, Bat-together, and then the chorus-'tis the proper Daintie Davie must be sung, two stanzas tle of Sheriff-muir, or We ran and they ran, (I know the author of this charming ballad, and his history), Hardyknute, Barbara Allan, (I can furnish a finer set of this tune than any thing that has yet appeared); and besides, do you know that I really have the old tune to which The Cherry and the Slae was sung; and which is mentioned as a well known air in Scotland's Complaint, a book published before poor Mary's days. It was then called The banks o' Helicon; an old poem which Pinkerton has brought to light. You will see all this in Tytler's History of Scottish Music. The the king of good fellows, and the best singer tune, to a learned ear, may have no great merit; of the lively Scottish ballads that ever existed, but it is a great curiosity. I have a good many has charmed thousands of companies with Fee original things of this kind.

something of pathos, or tenderness at least, in way. I agree with you, that there may be the air of Fee him, father, when performed with feeling; but a tender cast may be given almost to any lively air, if you sing it very slowly, expressively, and with serious words. I am, however, clearly and invariably for retaining the cheerful tunes joined to their own humorous verses, wherever the verses are passable. But the sweet song for Fee him, father, which you began about the back of midnight, I will pub

lish as an additional one. Mr. James Balfour,

him, father, and with Todlin hame also, to the old words, which never should be disunited from either of these airs. Some Bacchanals I would wish to discard. Fy let us a' to the bridal, for instance, is so coarse and vulgar, that I think it fit only to be sung in a company of drunken col

liers; and Saw ye my father appears to me (Where are the joys I hae met in the morning,

both indelicate and silly.

One word more with regard to your heroic

ode. I think, with great deference to the poet,

p. 242.)

Adieu, my dear Sir! The post goes, so I shall

that a prudent general would avoid saying any defer some other remarks unti! more leisure.

thing to his soldiers which might tend to make death more frightful than it is. Gory presents a disagreeable image to the mind; and to tell them, "Welcome to your gory bed," seems rather a discouraging address, notwithstanding the alternative which follows. I have shown the song to three friends of excellent taste, and each of them objected to this line, which emboldens me to use the freedom of bringing it again under your notice. I would suggest,

No. XLVI.

THE SAME TO THE SAME.

September, 1792.

I HAVE been turning over some volumes of songs, to find verses whose measures would suit the airs for which you have allotted me to find English songs.

For Muirland Willie, you have, in Ramsay's Tea-table, an excellent song, beginning "Ah, why those tears in Nelly's eyes?" As for The Collier's Dochter, take the following Bacchanal,

(Deluded Swain, p. 198.)

The faulty line in Logan-water, I mend thus:

"How can your flinty hearts enjoy

The widow's tears, the orphan's cry ?"

The song, otherwise, will pass. As to M Gregoira-Rua-Ruth, you will see a song of mine to it, with a set of the air superior to yours, in the Museum, Vol. ii. p. 181. The song begins,

"Raving winds around her blowing."

I have scrutinized it over and over; and to the world some way or other it shall go as it is. At the same time it will not in the least hurt me should you leave it out altogether and adhere to your first intention of adopting Logan's verses." I have finished my song to Saw ye my fa- Your Irish airs are pretty, but they are downther; and in English, as you will see. That right Irish. If they were like the Banks of there is a syllable too much for the expression of Banna, for instance, though really Irish, yet in the air, is true; but allow me to say, that the the Scottish taste. you might adopt them. Since mere dividing of a dotted crotchet into a crot-you are so fond of Irish music, "what say you to chet and a quaver, is not a great matter: how-twenty-five of them in an additional number? ever, in that I have no pretensions to cope in judgment with you. Of the poetry I speak with confidence; but the music is a business where I hint my ideas with the utmost diffidence.

The old verses have merit, though unequal, and are popular; my advice is to set the air to the old words, and let mine follow as English verses. Here they are

We could easily find this quantity of charming airs; will take care that you shall not want songs; and I assure you that you will find it the most saleable of the whole. If you do not approve of Roy's wife, for the music's sake, we shall not insert it. Deil tak' the wars, is a charming song; so is, Saw ye my Peggy? There's nae luck about the house, well deserves a place; I cannot say that O'er the hills and Mr. Thomson has very properly adopted this song far awa strikes me as equal to your selection. (if it may be so called) as the bard presented it to him. This is no my ain house is a great favourite air He has attached it to the air of Lewie Gordon, and per- of mine; and if you send me your set of it, I haps among the existing airs he could not find a better will task my muse to her highest effort. What but the poetry is suited to a much higher strain of music, and may employ the genius of some Scottish Han-is your opinion of I hae laid a herrin in sawt? del, if any such should in future arise. The reader I like it much. Your Jacobite airs are pretty; will have observed, that Burns adopted the alterations proposed by his friend and correspondent in former in and there are many others of the same kind, stances with great readiness; perhaps, infced, on all pretty-but you have not room for them. You indifferent occasions. In the present instance, however, he rejected them, though repeatedly urged, with deter cannot, I think, insert, Fy let us u' to the bridle, to any other words than its own.

mined resolution.

Y

What pleases me, as simple and naive, dis-his manuscripts, I hope you may find out some gusts you as ludicrous and low. For this reason, that will answer as English songs to the airs yet Fye, gie me my coggie, sirs-Fye, let us a' to unprovided. the bridal, with several others of that cast, are, to me, highly pleasing; while, Saw ye my father, or saw ye my Mother, delights me with its discriptive simple pathos. Thus, my song, Ken ye what Meg o' the mill has gotten? pleases myself so much, that I cannot try my hand at another song to the air; so I shall not attempt it. I know you will laugh at all this; but, "ilka man wears his belt his ain gait."

No. XLVII.

THE SAME TO THE SAME.

October, 1793.

Your last letter, my dear Thomson, was indeed laden with heavy news. Alas, poor Erskine! The recollection that he was a coadjutor in your publication, has, till now, scared me from writing to you, or turning my thoughts on composing for you.

I am pleased that you are reconciled to the air of the Quaker's Wife, though, by the bye, an old Highland gentleman, and a deep antiquarian, tells me it is a Gaelic air, and known by the name of Leiger 'm choss. The following verses I hope will please you, as an English song to the air:

Thine am I, my faithful fair,

Thine, my lovely Nancy. (p. 214.) The rest of your letter I shall answer at some other opportunity.

No. XLVIII.

MR. THOMSON TO THE POET.

MY GOOD SIR,

7th November, 1793. AFTER so long a silence, it gives me peculiar pleasure to recognize your well known hand, for I had begun to be apprehensive that all was not well with you. I am happy to find however, that your silence did not proceed from that cause, and that you have got among the ballads once

more.

No. XLIX.

THE POET TO MR. THOMSON.

December, 1793.

TELL me how you like the following verses to the tune of Jo Janet.

(Husband, husband, cease your strife, p. 213.) (Wilt thou be my dearie? p. 242.)

No L.

MR. THOMSON TO THE POET.

MY DEAR SIR, Edinburgh, 17th April, 1794.
OWING to the distress of our friend for the
loss of his child, at the time of his receiving
your admirable but melancholy letter, I had
not an opportunity 'till lately of perusing it.
How sorry am I to find Burns saying,
"Canst
thou not minister to a mind diseased?" while
he is delighting others from one end of the
island to the other. Like the hypochondriac
who went to consult a physician upon his case:
Go, says the doctor, and see the famous Carlini,
who keeps all Paris in good humour. Alas!
Sir, replied the patient, I am that unhappy
Carlini !

Your plan for our meeting together pleases me greatly, and I trust that by some means or other it will soon take place; but your Bacchanalian challenge almost frightens me, for I am a miserable weak drinker!

Allan is much gratified by your good opinion of his talents. He has just begun a sketch from your Cotter's Saturday Night, and if it pleases himself in the design, he will probably etch or engrave it. In subjects of the pastoral or humorous kind, he is perhaps unrivalled by any artist living. He fails a little in giving beauty and grace to his females, and his colouring is sombre, otherwise his paintings and drawings would be in greater request.

I like the music of the Sutor's Dochter, and will consider whether it shall be added to the last volume; your verses to it are pretty; I have to thank you for your English song to but your humorous English song, to suit Jo Leiger 'm choss, which I think extremly good, Janet, is inimitable. What think you of the air, although the colouring is warm. Your friend Within a mile of Edinburgh ?" It has always Mr. Turnbull's songs have doubtless consider-struck me as a modern English imitation; but able merit; and as you have the command of is said to be Oswald's, and is so much liked, that I believe I must include it. The verses are lit

The Honourable A. Erskine, brother to Lord Kelly, whose melancholy death Mr Thomson had communicated in an excellent letter, which he has suppressed. in p. 379.

A letter to Mr. Cunningham, to be found