rogr I «& ,00. iWUx X ^, ^ t> \ ,^ * « 9,. A ' C ^ 0^ *- 1* S I y r % ,v <% -V W * «/ / ; '\£ y f / /y ■ € /i//,f,; ,/„ ,.>,y,„„/ Ay,,,,,//,,,/ /y //, - /, / A, //\ BEIT FEi6U§§6 idoxi &Eairibuiear Brother, I was glade to find by your last that Mrs. Forbes and you were well, and of your success in obtaining an addition to your living. I thought to have wrote you before now, but am so much hurried that I have scarce time to eat and sleep sufficiently, which is the more uneasy, that it adds nothing to my gain. The Company I serve are 15 Wrights who have entered in contract to carry on the branch's of business. The up- holstery goods and hardware are sold for account of the Company, but all the household furniture is sold for the proper account of the respective proprietors. It is lodged in a large wareroom, blended together for sale, which creats an endless writing and constant attendance, and which [what ?] is still more uncomfortable, none of these gentlemen understand accounts, nor the trouble in keeping them regular ; but every one of them has a par- ticular veneration for meum, so that I have not a far- MEMOIR OF ROBERT FERGUSSON. thing value of a perquizite, nor time either to oblige a friend nor gain a sixpence ; so that my sallery of £25 realy can't be a subsistence to my family ; exclusive of coal, candle, and cloathes which are absolutely necessary, omitting house rent, amounts only to <£4 3s. 4d. a head per annum : and till now, since I came to this place never felt so much the loss of time to do something in, for my- self: besides [loss of] perquizites at paying of accounts. It's pity you had so little time with Lord Deskford when in the North : if you could use the freedom to write his Lordship under cover to me soon, representing the con- nection between us, and with as much modest assurance as possible solicit his intrest to procure me any settle- ment in the Customs above a Tidesman it would be sin- gularly obliging : and if once introduced to his Lordship in that channel, possibly I may get your intrest sup- ported by some others in this place, who can ascertain my diligence and sobriety. Shall be glad to hear from you soon. Your sister after a long struggle between two opinions is at length to commence a settler here after Whitsunday next; for particulars I referr you to what she writes herewith. Hary still unprovided, from a gratefull sense of your civilities desires to be remembred to you, Mrs. Forbes and Jack Auld, and we all join in our compliments to Mrs. Forbes. My wife has had a web for severall months on the stocks which I hope will soon be ready for launching. I remain, D[ear] B[rother], Your aff«. Brother, 50 : a sum which was to him a little fortune. I ask my readers to turn to his poem of "Damon to his Friends," 4 where they will read of his sense of " prosperity," and of the generous manner in which his subscription-list had been filled up. Attend, ye kind youth of the plain ! Who oft with my sorrow condoled : You cannot be deaf to my strain, Since Damon is master of gold : O come, ye dear friends of his youth ! Of all his good fortune partake: Nor think 'tis departing from truth To say 'twas preserved for your sake. 1 Life, Note 5. 8 iDid. 2 Ruddiman. MS. Sketch of Life. 4 Poems, p. 202. lxXXvi MEMOIR OF ROBERT FERGUSSON. CHAPTER VI. 1773—1774. Volume — Andrew Gray — J[ohn] S|_cott] of Berwick [?] — Scottish and English poems — Nationality — Dr. Johnson — Theatre — Epilogue Keminiscences — Anecdote — Dr. Anderson — Drudgery — Reflections — Retires to Restalrig — Ode to the Bee — Fame — His Brother — at Sea — his Singing — Anecdote— Bishop — Anecdote — Remark. Like Ramsay and Burns, our poet availed himself of the prefixed fly-leaves to inscribe complimentary verses in presentation and particular copies, of his little volume. It contained only nine poems in the Scottish dialect, to wit, (1) Sandie and Willie, an Eclogue. (2) Geordie and Davie, an Eclogue to the Memory of Dr. Wilkie. (3) Elegy on the death of Mr. David Gregory. (4) The Daft Days. (5) The King's Birth-Day in Edinburgh. (6) Caller Oysters. (7) Braid Claith. (8) Elegy on the Death of Scots Music ; and (9) Hallowfair. Although these poems are distinguished by a power of humorous description, and nervous sense, they are by no means the best of his productions : but the ' whistle ' of the ' Gentle Shepherd' with its "pleasan' soun'" had long been mute: and the Scottish heart yearned for some- thing in its own mother-tongue, something higher than ' Helenore,' something more hameil than ' The Minstrel,' welcome as had been these strains from the " north coun- trie." To many a lowly reader therefore the little vol- ume of 1773 was beyond all price: not only in itself, but as an earnest of what should yet come. Andrew Gray wrote Fergusson from Perth in 1773, Ye've English plain enough nae doubt, And Latin too, but ye do suit MEMOIR OF ROBERT FERGUSSOX. lxxxvii Your lines, to fock that's out about 'Mang hills and braes, This is the thing that gars me shout Sae loud your praise. l And in the year previous, J. S. from Berwick had said, I ne'er appear'd before in print, But for your sake wou'd fain be in't, E'en that I might my wishes hint That you'd write mair, For sure your head-piece is a mint Whar wit's nae rare. 2 The wishes of J. S. were certainly with affluence re- sponded to. The volume of 1772-3 had hardly issued from the press — had hardly reached the " winnock boles" by the country firesides — when with unstinted fecundity, and increasing felicity, and weight of the nascitur, non Jit, appeared ' Address to the Tron Kirk Bell ; Caller Water ; Plainstanes and Causey ; The Rising and Sitting of the Session ; Odes to the Bee and Gowdspink ; The Farmer's Ingle ; ' and other pieces that have won for him " a far-ben corner in ilk Scottish heart ; " and it must be remembered, too, that those in the Scottish dialect were alternated with his numerous English pieces, in which scintillations of the same lode may be discerned by a ' tenty ' reader. Moreover, his nationalism — his amor pat?' ice — was mani- fested in his spirited repellance of Dr. Johnson's jaun- diced prejudices against Scotland. Telumque imbelle sine ictu Conjeeit, exclaims Dr. Irving, quoting Virgil ; still, beyond ques- 1 Poems, p. 72. 2 Ibid., p. 21. lxXXviii MEMOIR OF ROBERT FERGUSSON. tion, there was verge enough for Fergusson's 'flighting' on Cyclopean Sam's sesquipedalianisrn. His ' Ghaists,' or Heriot and Watson, and ' Hame Con- tent,' likewise exhibit his satirical powers to advantage. In April 1773, an ' Epilogue' wnich he had composed, was spoken by Mr. Wilson, a popular actor, in the The- atre Royal, Edinburgh, in the character of an Edinburgh buck. It was received with very great favour ; and my late venerable friend, Miss Ruddiman, informed me that Mr. Ruddiman, and a few other intimate friends of the poet, accompanied him to the theatre that even- ing. Miss Ruddiman remembered c sitting on his knee ; ' but when the audience rose up and cheered, the actor, looking towards the box where Fergusson was seated, he hastily retired to the back. He was singularly unob- trusive, and could not bear the thought of courting applause. Mr. Wilson had announced him the author of the epilogue without his co '.sent. 1 Concerning his visits to the ' theatre,' to which he was at all times admitted free, from his friendship with Mr. Woods, I find that " he always sat in the centre box, de- nominated the Shakspeare box ; and his mode of express- ing approbation in comic performances was somewhat singular. Instead of clapping his hands, or using any exclamations, he used to show how much he was de- lighted by raising his right hand clenched above his head, and bringing it down emphatically on the front of the box, with a sweeping blow." 2 He soon became, says Mr. Ruddiman, " a professed dramatic critic, and in a club of young men, like himself, who were passionately fond of theatrical performances, he took great delight." ° The late Dr. Anderson, editor of 1 Miss Ruddiman. 2 Inverarity MSS. Chambers, in loc. 3 MS. Life. MEMOIR OF ROBERT FERGTJSSON. 1XXX1X the well known edition of the Poets, used frequently to accompany him, along with other students attending the University, to the theatre. 1 Thus passed his days; and it is mournful to think that one so gifted, — so right hearted, — so loveable, — so modest, should have been robbed thus drearily of all those bright hopes which had shed their radiance over his earlier years. " There were Who formed high hopes, and flattering ones, of thee, Young Robert! For thine eye was quick to speak Each opening feeling : should they not have known If the rich rainbow on the morning cloud Reflects its radiant dyes, the husbandman Beholds the ominous glory, and foresees Impending storms." He continued to toil pitiably in the Commissary office, relieved only, if it was relief, by intercourse with his associates in the evening. " His life was cold, and dark, and dreary, It rained, and the wind was never weary, His thoughts still clung to the mouldering past, But the hopes of youth fell thick in the blast, And the days were dark and dreary." It was probably when such reflections passed through his mind, shadow-like across the moted sunlight of his revelling, that he wrote the Elegy on the Decay of Friend- ship, which we have shown has been errantly ascribed to a much earlier period. He therein laments the over- clouding of his prospects ; and consentaneously aban- doned the town, and took lodgings at Restalrig. But the necessity that was laid upon him to return to his post for bread, compelled him to return. . 1 Campbell, Life, p. 208. MEMOIR OF ROBERT FERGUSSON. And thus it was with one whose rare gifts gave him pre-eminence among men, so that while, in the words of Fielding, " he saw and approved the best, he still follow- ed the most dangerous path." How much he delighted in the country is apparent in the dewy freshness of the poems which he composed while resident there. Turn, reader, to his ' Ode to the Bee,' written from the " gowany burn-banks" of Broom- house. His faded cheek is lit up with a conscious flush, as he thinks of his " low estate " being relieved by a name on the bead roll of his country's poets. Like thee, by fancy wing'd, the muse Scuds ear' an' heartsome owre the dews, Fa' vogie an' fu' blythe to crap The winsome flow'rs frae nature's lap, Twining her living garlands there, Thai Jyart Time can ne'er impair. His brother Henry had been, from 1768, " at sea," and during the intervening years, his mother and the poet received frequent letters. 1 Robert, too, finding that everywhere on Scottish ground, the ' syren pleasure ' still waylaid him, thought of trying his fortune " at sea." His constitution, however, was singularly ill-adapted for such boisterous sturdy service ; and this, combined with his mother's tears, made him give up his intention. He resumed his place at the ' copying desk,' and his ' seat' among the " thoughtless and the gay," fascinating them by his conversation and excellent voice, but eating every day a bitterer and scantier meal. Uniform tradition, says Mr. Chambers, and every other testimony, ascribe to Fergusson an "excellent voice," and a most captivating manner of singing the simple melodies of his native country. An anecdote has been 1 Appendix A. MEMOIR OF ROBERT FERGUSSON. preserved by Sommers, which at once proves his vocal powers, and reflects a light upon his impulsive nature. " As a ' frolic,' he laid a ' wager' with some of his asso- ciates, that if they would furnish him with a certain number of printed ballads (no matter what kind), he would undertake to dispose of them, as a * street singer,' in the course of two hours. The ' bet ' was accepted, and next evening, being in the month of November, a large bundle of ballads were procured for him. He wrapped himself in a shabby great-coat, put on an old scratch wig, and in this disguised form commenced his adventure at the weigh-house, head of the West Bow. In going down the Lawnmarket and High Street, he had the address to collect great multitudes around him, while he amused them with a variety of Scottish songs, by no means such as he had ballads for, and gained the ' wager' by dispos- ing of the whole collection. He waited on his companions by eight o'clock that evening, and spent with them, in ' mirthful glee,' the produce of his street adventure," 1 which was similar to that related of worthy Bishop Corbet, a circumstance which may blunt the edge of severity in respect of Fergusson. Another and equally innocent frolic, was as follows : — having procured a sailor's dress, he equipped himself in it, assumed also a huge stick, and sallying out, paid a round of visits to his acquaintances. He was so effectu- ally disguised that few or none of them knew him ; and by throwing forth hints of some of their former indis- cretions, he so much surprised them, that they imputed his knowledge to divination. By this means he procured from many of them such a fund of information, as enabled him to give them a greater surprise when he resumed the genuine character of Robby Fergusson. For in the 1 Life, p. 27. MEMOIR OF ROBERT FERGUSSON. sailor's habit he informed them of many frailties and failings which they imagined it impossible for any one of his appearance to know ; and in the habit of Robby Fergusson, he divulged many things which they believed none but the ragged sailor was acquainted with. 1 Fergusson's powers of mimicry, Mr. Chambers re- marks, were "indeed admirable, and he displayed a con- siderable turn for acting in general." 2 These anecdotes exhibit the poet in his sprightlier and less shadowed moods ; and yet, all the while he was " as a ship without a rudder, tossed to and fro by every passing wind." 3 ' Taken out' as he was, in such a Bacchic city and age, and so down-crushed with disappointment and anxiety for bread, is it a wonder that, perhaps with too unreserved alacrity, he obeyed the call to ' quaff that juice ' of which he had sung, possibly from his own experience, Whose care-controlling pow'rs Could ev'ry human misery subdue, And wake to sportive joy the leisure hours, That to the languid senses hateful grew. He is an object of profoundest sympathy to all who feel the ' frailty ' of humanity. Your " honest, fair, worthy, square, good-looking, well-meaning, regular, uni- form, straightforward, clock-work, clear-headed, one-like- another, salubrious, upright kind of people," as the author of Salmagundi calls them, have no materials in their nature for charity. 1 Peterkin, p. 42 seq. 2 Life, in loc. 3 Lives of Scottish Poets. London, 1822. Vol. ii. in loc. MEMOIR OF ROBERT FERGUSSON. XC111 CHAPTER VII. 1774. Awakening — Brown of Haddington — Anecdote — Remarks— Anecdote — Remorse — Seclusion — Bible — MSS. destroyed — Temporary reco- very — Accident — Insanity — Bedlam — Mother and Sister — Death — Grave — Burns — Burnet — Henry Fergusson — Remarks — Personal appearance — Character — Campbell — Sommers — Irving — Chambers — Tradition. But the * gold was now become dim, the most fine gold was changed.' The lessons which he had been taught, sitting by his "mother's knee," from that Bible which, when younger even than Samuel, he had delighted to pore over, 1 had been, it cannot be denied, far, far de- parted from ; but now they began to re-assert their in- fluence. It is related that when, on one of his excursions to the country, flying from the temptations of the city, he was discovered by the venerated John Brown of Had- dington, wandering pensively and sorrowfully in the church-yard of that town. 2 It appears that, suggested by the scene, Mr. Brown made the conversation ' turn ' upon the exceeding " mad- ness of those who, heedless of the awful account which is before them, waste the precious moments of life in idle and profitless gaiety and license." 3 This " bow, drawn at a venture," by one who was ever " watchful for souls," was singularly applicable to Fergusson's own situation and train of feeling at the moment, and sunk deep into his mind. He returned to Edinburgh, fully resolved to enter upon an amended course of life. 1 Ante, p. xl. 2 Campbell, Irving, Sommers, in loc. 3 Ibid. XC1V MEMOIR OF ROBERT FERGUSSON. How saddening to think that there should have been no one near to have strengthened his resolutions, and, by changing his unworthy 'drudgery' and circumstances, to have lifted him above his unthinking and heedless as- sociates, who too soon succeeded in dissipating his re- pentant designs. Let us be charitable. What's done we partly may compute, Bat know not what's resisted. The preceding conversation took place towards the close of 1772 ; but had become almost forgotten, when a strik- ing incident recalled it forcibly to his mind. He had, in the room adjoining that in which he slept, a ' starling,' which was an especial favourite, having been given to him in a present from a particular friend in the country. One night a cat, having found its way down the chim- ney, had seized upon the bird, which awoke Fergusson with its piteous cries. He rose hastily, and discovered the cause of the alarm, but too late to save the poor ' starling.' 1 The circumstance gave rise to a train of re- flection which banished 'sleep' from his eyes for the rest of the night. The words of John seemed to be written before him in characters of fire, " I will come on thee as a thief, and thou shalt not know what hour I will come upon thee." How sudden and fatal had been the stroke to a " sinless and unaccountable crea- ture !" And he — What if death should come thus sud- denly upon him, to whom such an event was not oblivion, but the passage to a state of eternal misery or hap- piness 1 Indulging in such thoughts, rendered more impres- sive by the stillness of the night hour, the morning found him " wrought up to a pitch of remorse, bordering 1 Campbell, Irving, Sommers, in loc. MEMOIR OF ROBERT FERGUSSOST. on despair." He arose, not to mingle again with the " social and the gay," but to be a recluse from society, devoured by reflections on " past follies," on an aimless and misspent life. All his vivacity had forsaken him ; the lips which never opened but to 'fascinate and de- light,' were now shut as by the Gorgon. With a peculiar, wild, accusing look, he refused all invitations ' out.' Religion was now his only theme, and the Bible, as with Collins,i his constant companion. The few unpublished MSS. which he had in his possession he committed to the flames ; and he was heard to say, ' that the only consolation which the recollection of his poetry afforded him was, that it never had been prostituted to the service of vice or irreligion.' 2 The Rev. Dr. Erskine of the Greyfriars was a constant and kindly visitor. 3 Shortly before the preceding incident, he had engaged in the excesses of an election in one of the eastern coun- ties, and he never ceased to reflect upon himself for this, and as he often said, ' many, many other follies.* At last his mind lost its ' form and pressure,' a con- summation he had anticipated with horror. His body, never very strong, and nervously sensitive, was emaciated and a-jar. He did obtain temporary relief, and had even begun to visit his friends, who, in the words of Mr. Woods, on this c his second natal day,' could not express their joy, "To see a portion of themselves restored." 5 But one night he had the misfortune to entangle his foot with a rod-knob, on the head of a staircase, and fell from it, striking his head violently against the lower steps. 6 1 Johnson's Life of Collins, in loc. 2 Campbell, Irving, Sommers, in loc. 3 Wilson. 4 Miss Ruddiman. 5 Lines addressed to Mr. R. Fergusson, on his recovery from severe depression of spirits. — Caledonian Mercury, July 9th, 1774. 6 Campbell, Irving, Sommers, in loc. Miss Ruddiman. XCV1 MEMOIR OF ROBERT FERGUSSON. When lifted up and taken home he was utterly insen- sible. Frenzy ensued : and his poor afflicted mother, whose circumstances were such as to " preclude the re- quisite assistance," 1 was under the painful necessity of removing him to the public asylum, ' Bedlam.' Two of his most intimate friends called and induced him to go into a sedan-chair, as if he had been about to make an evening-visit. When they reached the place of their destination, and stopped within the porch, the poor youth discovered instantaneously the deception. 2 He looked with a strange, wild, questioning glance all around : and with choking agony raised such a piteous and fearful cry as never departed from the memory of those who accompanied him. He was restless and desperate the whole of the first night : but in the morning when his mother and sister visited him he was calm and resigned. He had at first imagined himself a king, and had placed on his head a crown of straw neatly plaited with his own hands. This delusion, however, had vanished. He thanked his mother and sister for their kindness. He reminded them of his presentiment of the calamity that was now upon him. He entreated his sister to bring her ' seam ' and sit beside hin. To all which they could only reply with tears. He checked their grief ; told them he was well cared for ; and expressed a hope that he should soon be restored to them. At other times, however, he was greatly and painfully excited, exclaim- ing that he ' should be a minister of the glorious gospel,' that they ' should all see him a burning and a shining light.' 3 Frequently too he would sing with a beauty and pathos and tremulous tenderness the 'Birks of Inver- 1 Campbell, Irving, Sommers, in loc. 3 Sommers in loe. MEMOIR OF ROBERT FERGUSSON. may' and other favourite Scottish melodies, such as be- fore he had never reached. These, however, were but lucid intervals ; ' Moonlight on a troubled sea Brightening the storm it cannot calm.' He was confined upwards of two months in the asylum. Alexander Campbell has preserved the particulars of the last interview that his mother and sister had with him. The evening was chilly and damp. His feet felt very cold. He asked his mother to gather up the bed-clothes and sit upon them. She did so. He looked wistfully at his mother, and said, ' Oh ! mother, this is kind indeed : ' but again he complained that his feet were ' cold, cold.' When they prepared to leave he entreated them to re- main. ' do not go, mother, yet, — do not leave me.' 1 It was the time however for ' shutting up.' They parted. And in the silence of that night, and alone, he died. This event occurred on 16th October 1774, when he had only shortly completed his 24th year. How mysterious, how awful, how utterly baffling to the human spirit are the ways of Providence. Robert Fergusson removed in the hey-day of youth, and just when he had found a refuge in the Word, which alone healeth. Jamie Duff, a poor, maundering, wretched idiot, left contemporarily to dree out a weary life until 1789 ! >. Verily ! the saddened inquirer has need of the strong upward lifting promise, ' What ye know not now, ye shall know hereafter.' 1 Campbell, in loc. XCV111 MEMOIR OF ROBERT FERGUSSON. Fergusson was interred next day in the Canongate churchyard. There were many mourners at his funeral : and many pilgrims visited his grave in succeeding years. When Robert Burns paid his first memorable visit to Edinburgh, he found only the ' green mound and the scattered gowans.' He uncovered his head, and his great heart was moved even to tears : and the present plain, but touching headstone shall ever remain, a testimony, at once to the poet who rests below, and to his im- mortal successor. On one side of the humble monument is the well-known Epitaph : " No sculptur'd marble here, nor pompous lay, No storied urn, nor animated bust ! This simple stone directs pale Scotia's way, To pour her sorrows o'er her poet's dust." The other side bears this inscription : " By special grant of the Managers To Robert Burns, — who erected this stone, — This burial-place is ever to remain sacred to the memory of Robert Fergusson." ' How fondly Fergusson was beloved by his friends was evinced in a striking manner, immediately after his death. 2 One of his early associates, a member of the family of (it is understood) the Burnets of Kemnay, having gone to the East Indies, soon found himself on the road to affluence, and remembering the less fortunate situation of the friend whom he admired above all others, he sent a pressing invitation to Fergusson to come over to India : and, at the same time enclosed a draught for £100 to 1 Appendix M. 2 Irving, Campbell, Sommers, in loc. MEMOIR OF ROBERT FERGUSSON. defray the expences of his outfit. A generous deed! But alas ! it came too late. — It fell " as a sunbeam on the blasted blossom." He had breathed his last only a few days before. Let the intentions of Mr. Burnet however be remem- bered : and, not only so, but that his relatives in Scot- land ordered the amount to be retained by the mother of the poet. 1 In addition to this posthumous brightening of pros- pects, his mother had been enabled, by a remittance from her son Henry, to make some preparations for receiving the poor maniac back into her own house, where supe- rior accommodation, and the tenderness of a mother's and a sister's love might have been expected to produce some favourable result. 2 And thus the short, sad story of Scotland's third Scot- tish poet is closed. His life reads one lesson, that genius is too, too often a fatal gift : and that indeed " there is a tide in the affairs of men, which, taken at the flood, leads on to fortune ; omitted, all the voyage of their life is bound in shallows, and in miseries." Of his personal appearance, Sommers has left the fol- lowing account. — He was about five feet, six inches high, and well shaped. His complexion fair, but rather pale. His eyes full, black, and piercing. His nose long, his lips thin, his teeth well set and white. His neck long, and well proportioned. His shoulders narrow, and his limbs long, but more sinewy than fleshy. His voice strong, clear, and melodious. Remarkably fond of old Scots songs, and the best singer of the ' Birks of Invermay ' I ever heard. When speaking, he was quick, forcible, and 1 Miss Ruddiman, who vividly recalled the ' tears ' of Mrs. Fergusson, when she called tor advice on the matter at Mr. Ruddiman's. 2 Irving, Campbell, Sommers, in loc. Appendix A. i2 MEMOIR OF ROBERT FERGUSSON. complaisant. In walking he appeared smart, erect, and unaffected. x His countenance, says another, 2 was somewhat effemi- nate, but redeemed by the animation imparted to it by his large black eyes. Mingled with the penetrative glance of an acute and active mind, was that modesty which gives to superior intellect its greatest charm. Fergusson's manners were always accommodated to the moment : he was gay, serious, set the table in a roar, charmed with his powers of song, or bore with becoming dignity his part in learned or philosophical disquisition. " In short, he had united," remarks Alexander Campbell, "the sprightliness and innocence of a child, with the knowledge of a profound and judicious thinker." 3 " Gentleness and humanity of disposition," says Dr. Ir- ving, " he possessed in an eminent degree. The impulse of benevolence frequently led him to bestow his last far- thing on those who solicited his charity. His surviving relations retain a pleasing remembrance of his dutiful behaviour toward his parents; and the tender regard with which his memory is still cherished by his numer- ous acquaintance fully demonstrates his value as a friend." 4 It may be added, observes Mr. Chambers, that to this day, there prevails but one universal impression in favour of Fergusson. Cut off in the greenest of his days, he still lives in the feeling of the world, exactly what he really was in life, a gentle and youthful being ; of whom no one could think any ill, and who was the friend and brother of every body. 5 John viii. 7. 1 Life, p. 45. 2 Chambers, communicated in loe. 3 Campbell, Life, p. 300. 4 Life, edit. 1799, p. 27 sq. ; 1801, p. 34 sq. 5 Appendix N. APPENDIX. NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. A. — Pages xxiv, lxiv. Henry Pergusson, the brother of the poet, was a teacher of 'fencing' and 'sword exercise,' in Edinburgh; and I have been fortunate enough to pick up a copy of his class-book. It is entitled, "A Dictionary, explaining the terms, guards, and positions, used in the art of the small sword. By Hary Fer- gusson. Ah me! what perils do environ, the man who meddles with cold iron. — Hudibras. Printed [at Edinburgh] in the year mdcc.lxvii. Tract, pp. 23." His dedicatory advertisement to his pupils, and relative postscript are clever, and I annex them. " Gentlemen, — if you expect a learned preface, or fulsome dedication, you will be greatly disappoint- ed; all I intend at present is, a short compend, explaining the technical terms used in the art of fencing. I think I need make no apology for publishing this little piece; I did it at your request, and for your advantage. In so doing, I not only obey you, but follow the example of the greatest men, and I hope it will be of some service to you, in learning [acquiring] the principles of that noble science, — the science of defence, which nature so strongly recommends to all her children. Why should I tire your patience, by dwelling upon the many advantages of this branch of education? These are too obvious to be disputed. As to the disadvantages, they are few and necessarily attend every art or science whatever, even the most useful, the most agreeable. They are not, however, so much the natural offspring of the arts and sciences themselves, as the fatal effects of ignorance and folly. But it is certainly no solid objection to learning, that a few fools make a bad use of it ; no, or else the philosopher and the divine, the lawyer and physician, might bid an eternal farewell to all encouragement, to all improvement, as well as the authors. In tine, the noble efforts of* human wit and ingenuity are all too imperfect, not to be liable to the objections of the ignorant, the disingenuous, i 3 Cll APPENDIX. and ill-natured part of mankind, who always love to cavil, to find fault. ' Cavil they may, but never criticize.' Adieu, then, gentlemen ! and be assured, that fencing can- not be learned [acquired] by theory; it may assist you in un- derstanding the terms of the art, but it is practice alone that can make you artists. I am always, gentlemen, at the hours of teaching, your most obedient and very humble servant, H. F. Postscript. — I am sorry, gentlemen, in this place, to say any thing of Mr. Locke, but your demands oblige me to mention him. How shall I combat the greatest of men, but by opposing to him the greatest of mankind. It is well known Locke was no fencer; it is as well known that Milton was one. The former condemns an art, because he was ignorant of its principles, the latter recommends it, because he understood them; which of their judgments shall we believe in this im- portant trifle? Let candour determine, and the philosopher, for once, must yield to the poet and politician. To give satis- faction, however, to unbelieving people, I shall give them a view of Mr Locke's objection: 'When a man is in the field (says he), a moderate skill in fencing rather exposes him to the sword of his enemy, than secures him from it; and cer- tainly a man of courage, who cannot fence at all, and therefore will put all on one thrust, and not stand parrying, has the odds against him who is a moderate fencer.' Such is the argument of our sagacious logician, which hardly deserves a serious refutation. He tells his reader of a ' moderate fencer,' that is, a fellow not master of his art, a foolish bungler, a mere blockhead. But what is that to the purpose? Is not the same objection applicable to a half-learned idiot, in any art or science whatever ? Certainly such a one would still more ex- pose himself if he engaged with an adept, since the superior knowledge of the one endangers the ignorant folly of the other. So far, then, is the reasoning of Mr. Locke from being an objection to the art of fencing, that it is a strong argument in its favour. Let us only oppose common sense to our ingeni- ous metaphysician, and his quibble immediately falls to the ground. Is not an artist supposed to be on an equal footing with his antagonist, in point of natural advantages ; and has he not also all the assistance he can derive from his art! Surely, gentlemen, you understand my meaning, or if you do APPENDIX. uot, I shall think my labour badly bestowed. All that I desire of you is to be above a mediocrity. A moderate fencer is still worse than a moderate poet." The various explanations of this little fencing dictionary, are concise and explicit ; and, doubtless, of value to all who study the so-called noble art. Henry or Hary, dissatisfied, it appears, with the slender income derivable from his teaching, went to sea. The fol- lowing letter, from the Inverarity MSS., was written to his mother, immediately after his first setting out. I. HENRY FERGUSSON TO MRS. FERGUSSON. Kirkwall Road, 13th May, 1768. D[ea]r Mother. After an agreeable passage, I arrived here on Wednesday last, having not been in the least sea-sick. . I was on shore yesterday, and had an inclination to buy some tea for you, but that article is at present as dear here as in Edin- burgh. If we go for Shetland, shall buy some there, as they tell me it is at no higher a price than 3s. p. pound. The manner of living here agrees with me very well. Yesterday I dined for the first time on salted pork, and made as hearty a meal of it as ever I did in my life. If E[obert] is at home, desire him to cause the St. Andrews carrier to leave any word or letter, at Mrs. Currie's, on the * * * [torn away] for me, as she will forward it to Leith Road. Boats belonging to the ship go ashore every day. I have received about 20s. for foils, with which I have bought two cotton check shirts and a pair of shoes which were too little for my comrade and exactly fitted me. We are uncertain how long our stay may be, therefore, whatever you have to say must be deferred till we come to Cromarty, where we will stay to take in beer, and from [that] place I shall write you. Beef sells here at l.^d. p. pound, and 14 eggs for a penny. Shall be glad this finds you free of trouble with respect to necessitous circum- stances, and accordingly, I ever am, D[ea]r Mother, Yours affectionately, Hart Fergus son. Compts to sister, her husband, and family, &c, CIV APPENDIX. This letter was addressed to " Mrs. Fergusson, in Jamieson's Land, Bell's Wynd, Edinburgh;" and it was to this lowly domicile that the poet had returned from St. Andrews only a few months before, while "necessitous circumstances" were pressing heavily upon her, as before they had on him who had been taken from her. Another letter 1 has been preserved, and enables us gradu- ally to trace his hardworking and chequered career. II. HENRY FERGUSSON TO MRS. FERGUSSON. Salisbury at Plymouth, 4Ah Aug., 1770. My Dear Mother, You have the greatest reason of any mother hiving to call a son's ingratitude in question, both on account of my bad behaviour towards you when living together, and my long silence since our separation. On the 18th of April, the day of Wilkie's enlargement, I was seized with the fever and ague; on the 3d May I was sent to Rochester Hospital, where I staid till discharged in the beginning of June. After coming on board, I relapsed and was very dangerously ill, but, thanks to God, and the good attendance of the surgeons, I re- covered, and am now as well as ever I was since the moment I existed. You will easily perceive by the date of this [that] I have left the Augusta, but thank God the change is for the better. When this ship was put in commission, I was advised by some friends to apply to go out in her as master- at-arms ; this I could not then do, being so very bad [ill], but about the beginning of last month, as I was then able to crawl up and down, I applied, and though there were upwards of thirty candidates, carried my point, having strong recommen- dations, but, above all, on account of my knowledge of the sword, which has procured me bread here, when many Scots clerks were starving. The ship is to sail to-morrow for the Halifax station in North America, where, and on the passage, we shall be twixt three and four years from England. As we carry both a commodore and captain, the berth I enjoy is upon that account more lucrative than when only the latter goes. The last master-at-arms in the commodore ship, on that station made an immense sum by being provost-martial at 1 Invcrarity MSS. APPENDIX. CV trials; with that chance (my pay p. annum) and fencing dues I shall be able to lay up a good deal of money. Never [knew] I, what real motherly affection was, till I fell sick, having been obliged to lay out every farthing I had for extra cordials, &c, but these are of little service when compared to the real advantages that flow from the mother's attendance. D[ea]r mother, the climate where we are bound for is so remarkably cold, that I was obliged to buy things suitable to it from top to toe, every article being three prices in that part of the world, and this took up all the trifle I had. I assure you, I am now as careful as formerly I was lavish, having nothing more at heart than to contribute to the main- tenance of you at my return. Make my best respects to Mr. and Mrs. Inverarity, to Rob, Peggy, Nan Colly, old Scoroble, John Parker and spouse, &c, &c. I am, D[ea]r Mother, Your loving Son, Hy. Fergusson. P. S. — Yesterday in the morning a most melancholy acci- dent happened on board this ship. As one of the mariners was playing with his piece, it went off and killed a Glasgow lad of the same corps, who sate directly opposite to him. The half of his head was shot away and his brains scattered about the deck in a most shocking manner: what is very remark- able, the principal person is from the Hulks [?] in Kdy parish, and is called Grierson. Don't write until you hear again from me, as it is yet uncer- tain whether we go to Halifax or Boston. This letter, which still reflects darkling light on the fireside in Bell's Land, was addressed to ' Mrs. Elizabeth Fergusson, to the care of Mr. David Inverarity, Wright, Peebles Wynd, Edinburgh,' and is duly inscribed with the initials of Peter Williamson, the immortal [!] Traveller and Founder of the Penny Post 1 . The following letter, dated "Tartar, in Rapahannock River, Virginia, 8th of October 1773," has been partially published by Campbell and Dr. Irving. I give it from the MS. now be- fore me. It was addressed to the poet. 1 See Note 1, p. 53. APPENDIX. III. HENRY FERGUSSON TO ROBERT FERGUSSON. D[ea]k Eobt. Since the beginning of last month, when I was favoured with yours of the 1st Feby 1773, I have been in most rivers in this Province and Maryland. Our business was to look out after smugglers; and had we been as active in that duty as others on the American station, I might have been enabled to make my appearance in a brilliant manner: but alas ! only a sloop of 80 tons from the West Indies, loaden with coffee and sugar, fell to our lot. I had 16 dollars for my share, 3 of which I gave towards buying a Tender, and every foremast man paid one. The Tender is now mann'd, arm'd, and cruizing Chesapeak Bay, and I am convinced cannot fail of taking prizes; if the officers appointed for that duty are attentive. We had the most severe winter at Halifax ever experienced in that country. The harbour, though 3 miles across, was frozen over for three weeks; the ship's company walk'd aboard and ashore, nay, all our provisions were got aboard on the ice (which in many places was 36 f[ee]'t in thickness), not- withstanding the strong N.W. winds which blow most of the winter. When we arrived at Boston we were ordered to this country, which has been as hot this summer as the former was cold in winter. Such a change of climate could not fail to create sickness in the ship's company : but, thank God, only three have died, one a natural death, and the other two drown'd. I had a very severe fitt of sickness at our first com- ing here; but being so much given to sweating it proved an effectual cure, although I am very weak through that means. I never lived so badly, as aboard here, in point of provisions, every species being the worst of their kinds, and neither but- ter nor flour to be had. I desire you will write by the pacquet on receipt, for if you lay hold of any other opportunity, your letter will be too late - t the ship being positively ordered home early next spring, to my great satisfaction, being quite tired of a life that my past follies drove me to, and to which I have served too long an apprenticeship. If every thing does not succeed to my expec- tations, on my arrival in England, I am fully bent to return and settle in this country ; having had the fairest offers ima- APPENDIX. ginable, could my discharge have been procured. In Virgi- nia and Maryland in particular, I could do best by acting in a double capacity, by learning [teaching] the small sword, and the exercise of the small arms, there being no regular forces in either province, and the officers of the militia being quite ignorant themselves of that part of their duty. I desire it as a favour, [that] you would often examine your poetical pieces before you commit them to the press : this ad- vice I hope you'll the more readily take, as most young au- thors are apt to be more criticized than those who have had a little experience. Pope himself was one of the most careful in this respect, and none yet has ever surpass'd him. When I arrive in England, I shall give you the necessary directions how to send your works, and make no doubt of selling them to advantage, when the ship is paid off. I am sorry to hear of J. Wright's death : he was a worthy young lad, and one I had a true regard for. Thick Peter I hope by this time is recovered. I should be glad to hear of Robertson and Addison's l success : the latter, if in Edinb[urgh], I desire to be kindly remember'd to. I should also be happy to hear how Sandie Young and John Coomans do, having experienced their kindness, and been happy in their company. In our passage from Boston to Hampton, we had a very narrow escape for [with] our lives, being surrounded with one of the largest water-spouts ever seen, which black'ned the sky for some leagues, and, had we not barely weather'd it, would have sunk the ship and every soul aboard. Remember me in the strongest manner to my mother, Peggy, [Inve] rarities, Father Parker, &c. &c. If you want to either succeed, or gain esteem, be very careful of what com- 1 Campbell affords us the following particulars anent this individual. " Mr. John Addison, who is alive and aged. He is the only Scottish musi- cian that receives the benefit from the fund for decayed musicians in Lon- don [1798]. He practised with much reputation in Edinburgh, in the double capacity of music-master, and fencing-master. He had been a pupil of the celebrated Dr. Pepuch [?], and is, I had almost said, the only musi- cal theorist in Scotland : with him I first studied the elements of musi- cal composition, and I found him always a communicative, intelligent, gentlemanly teacher. He published many years ago, Duetts for Violins, but in so dry a style as to be little relished, yet, the counterpoint is mas- terly and correct, the melody and modulation want variety." CV111 APPENDIX. pany you keep: this advice I hope you'll take, as it comes from one who has lost himself merely through inattention in that respect. Believe me, it is impossible to write you as I would chuse, being invironed with twenty thousand noisy plagues, not to mention execrations so horrid, that [they] would make the greatest blackguard in Edin[burgh]'s hair stand erect. I hope you'll make it your particular care to study such branches of education as may prove most condu- cive to your future happiness, and appear at least once every Sunday in church (I mean the Church of Scotland), for how can you spend your time better? I was, like many, fond of the Church of England's forms, &c. &c, but having been in many Eomish Churches since, find these forms are merely the * * * of laziness, and differ but very little from one an- other: this you can be convinced of, in perusing a Romish mass-book in English. I am, with greatest regard, D[ea]r Rob, your affectionate B[rothe]r, Hary Fergdsson. P. S. — Direct for me on board the Tartar, Hampton Road, Virginia. The brotherly solicitude, in respect, as well of the charac- ter as of the literary pursuits of our poet, is very interestingly manifested in the preceding off-hand, sailor-like letter. It was addressed to " Mr. Robert Fergusson, to the care of Mr. Walter Ruddiman, j r ., Printer, Edinburgh." The letter of 1st February 1773, was the last which Henry Fergusson received from the poet. The next that reached him from Scotland was an intimation of his death. The following was his answer, on the occasion. IV. HENRY FERGUSSON TO MRS. FERGUSSON. Tartar in Halifax Harbour, 6th May, 1775. D[ea]r Mother, I received your letter of the 29th Octo- ber last, containing the very disagreeable news of my brother's death, and acquainting me of Peggy's being married to one APPENDIX. C1X Mr. Alexander Duval who, you say, is in a very good way, but the particular branch of business he follows you forgot to mention. It is beyond the power of human invention to de- scribe how I was affected by the loss of an only brother, who always had my interest at heart, and with whom I was yet in hopes to have spent many agreeable days. But that there is no certainty on this side the grave is a truth that we daily experience, and plainly proves that to repine is weakness in the highest degree. I earnestly desire you'll take care of all the papers and writings as he left [a seaman's phrase] for my perusal, for I shall be more pleas'd in being possess'd of them than riches, as the former may serve to perpetuate the memory which the latter can never do. We are now actually at war with the Americans. A skir- mish happen'd at a place ca * * * [torn away] on the 18th ult°. betwixt the Provincials or rebels and * * * [torn away] Majesty's * * * by * * * over- powered * * * after they had burnt two magazines of the enemies stores, [?] obliged to retreat 15 or 18 miles through an incessant fire from behind the stone walls and breaches on the roadside. No certain account of the loss on either side has as yet been published, but the rebels, it is said, have sustained treble the loss of the army. Both camps are so near that the sentries of each army can discourse together on their posts, and the rebels augment daily. Several places have lately been burnt by the army ; and it is expected by this, that the town of Marblehead [?] is reduced to ashes. No fresh provisions are to be had for any price in New England, and an entire stop is put to all trade. We are ordered here as a safeguard over the dockyard, where we do duty for fear of the disaffected attempting to set it on fire. Night before last, the New England people here set fire to a quantity of hay that was to have been purchased for the use of the troops at Boston, which obliges us to be more vigilant than formerly. I am glad that the money you received came so opportunely; when- ever a remittance is made you shall not be forgot. My great- est desire is, to get home and settle for the remainder of my days, being, as I wrote you before, heartily tired of this way of life. Remember me in the strongest manner to Mr. and Mrs. Inverarity and family, to Mr. and Mrs. Duval, and all ac- h APPENDIX. quaintances ; and do not forget to inform me what day of the month my brother expired on, and the disease. I am, D[ea]r Mother, Your affectionate Son, Hart Fergusson. The preceding letter was addressed to " Mrs. Elizabeth Fer- gusson, to the care of Mr. David Inverarity, wright, New Ed- inburgh." We have seen from his letter to the poet, of 8th October, 1773, that even so early as that date, Henry Fergusson was desirous to get his discharge from the service; and by the kind attention of J. T. Briggs, Esq., her Majesty's Accountant-gene- ral of the Navy, I find that he procured his 'discharge' from the Tartar on the 12th of February, 1776. Subsequent to his letter of 6th May, 1775, his friends in Scotland never heard from, or of him. It is understood, that immediately on his retirement from the Tartar, he opened a school in Boston, in which he taught successfully the " use of the sword and small arms." His school is said to have been well attended by the Federalists of Boston. I find, too, that he addressed a series of letters on the painfully celebrated ' Stamp Act,' to one of the Boston newspapers, in which, righteously enough certainly, he took part with the Americans. I have to acknowledge the cour- tesy of America's favourite poet, William Cullen Bryant, Esq., in endeavouring personally, and by the press, to trace Henry Fergusson in America for me. Might I ask any of my Trans- atlantic friends, whose eye this page may reach, to consult the lists of deaths in the Boston newspapers and magazines 1776 to 1790? Possibly the name of the brother of the poet may be among them ; and it should be interesting to discover his resting-place. Advertisements of his school for the same dates may be sought for. Any information concerning Henry Fer- gusson shall be acceptable, and communications may be ad- dressed (post free) to the editor, care of his publishers. ^i° Might the editor further beg the admirers of Ramsay, author of the 'Gentle Shepherd,' of Robert Fergusson, and of Robert Burns, to favour him with the dates, &c, of any early American editions of their poems? APPENDIX. B. — Page xxvi. Mrs. Duval. — Margaret, the younger sister of the poet, was a person of great worth and ability. She was particularly dis- tinguished for acts of unobtrusive charity within her own small circle, and for a deep, living piety. I have selected the subjoined specimens of her poetical talent from the Inverarity MSS., but have done so with an eye rather to their fine devotional spirit, than to their excellence other- wise. I doubt not that they shall prove of interest. 1. — Everlasting Love. — Jerem. xxxi. 3. How rich ! how full ! is God's eternal grace, How bright its lustre shines in Jesus' face. Who can conceive how much it overflows Beyond the sin of man, and all his woes? Christ Jesus left his heavenly throne ahove, To show to man the riches of his love ; For this — was nailed to the shameful tree, That he might set the captive pris'ners free; For this — his heart was pierced with a spear, That he might loose our bands of sin and fear; For this — the blood and water from his side In streams did run to wash his dear-loved bride; For this — was Christ accursed in her stead, To set a crown of glory on her head; And not in vain were all these wonders done, For Jesus fought, o'ercame, and vict'ry won ; Oh ! love immense — was ever love like this, Which stoop'd so low to set my soul in bliss ? Oh! wisdom infinite, and pow'r divine, And love and truth, and altogether shine In one bright point, to bless my ravish'd heart; Oh! sweet effect of Jesus' blood and smart; Here love and mercy flows and knows no bounds, While God's eternal grace the soul surrounds. 2. — Couplet. A shadow vain in Adam I was made, I'm now in Christ the substance of that shade. CX11 APPENDIX. The following meditation on a " Rose Tree," is worthy of the devout Meikle. 3.— On a Rose Tree. Who would think that this little seed should contain in itself a rose bush, with all its branches and leaves, as also many beautiful crimson roses full of fragrance and perfume? indeed, were it not that experience shows it, one could hardly credit it. But so it is; all the ways of God are marvellous and astonishing! But oh! when we consider that the king- dom of heaven is like a grain of seed which grows up in the soul to a tree of life and immortality, then we may indeed be astonished at the mercy as well as power of the Lord. The rose bush, with all its flowers, must fade and die, but that soul which is born of God, is " born of incorruptible seed," which liveth and abideth for ever, and which is so far from decay that it will improve to all eternity. Oh ! blessed are all they who are born of this precious seed, which is Jesus Christ ; they are secured from all harm, and shall live in joy and bliss with the Lord, for ever and ever, in the everlasting beauties of holiness and righteousnes, never to know any more sorrow or grief; but shall eternally dwell in that sacred temple, " where God Almighty and the Lamb is the everlasting light thereof," to whom be all honour and glory for evermore. Amen ! C. — Page xxxviii. I gladly avail myself of the following notice of Mr. Gilchrist from Dr. Steven's interesting History of the High School of Edinburgh, [Appendix, pp. 91, 92.] " John Gilchrist, M.A., usher in the Grammar School of Dal- keith. He was elected November 7, 1750, and died October 1766. The following inscription, written by Mr. Luke Fraser, I found inserted in the official register of the High School scholars, under the last mentioned date: — 'Anno Domini MDCC.LXvi to mortuus est Joannes Gilchrist, annos circiter xlv natus, qui per annos sedecim pueros instituendi munere in Schola Edinensi Regia, summa cum laude functus est. Non confectus annis, non fractus morbo, sed diris laboribus victus ; uxore, filiis duobus, filiaque flentibus fato cessit. Hunc excepit Lucas Fraserius, octavo kalendas Decembres, certamine pub- lico inito atque peracto, jam turn agens trigesimum setatis annum.' " APPENDIX. D. — Pages xlii, xliii. Missive Letter. — To the Principal and Masters of the United Colleges of St. Salvator and St. Leonards in the Uni- versity of St. Andrews. Gentlemen, As there is now a vacancy in the Mortifica- tion of the deceased Mr. David Ferguson, sometime minister of the gospel at Strathmartine. of which we are a quorum of the Patrons ; and as we understand the bearer, Eobert Fer- guson, son of William Ferguson, Writer in Edinb[urgh], is a person duly qualified as an object of that donation; therefore we hereby present him, and recommend him to your care; and we by this entitle him to ten pounds sterling yearly, for the time limited by the Mortification, commencing the first of November last. We are, with esteem, Gentlemen, Your most obedient Servants, [Signed] James Graham, Jno. Barclay. P. S. — The ten pounds to be paid at two terms in the year, Whitsunday and Martinmas, by equal portions, commencing the payment of the first half at Whitsunday next, when the money may be drawn for, on Mr. Graham. Dundee, 7 Decern. 1764. E.— Page lvii. The 'document' referred to in the text, was written by Principal Hill to the dictation of Professor Vilant, the latter of whom was at the time [January 29th, 1801,] unable, from sickness, to do more than attest the truth of the account. " The University of St. Andrews keep no record of the cen- sures inflicted upon young men during the course of their studies, because they are willing to hope, that future good be- CX1V APPENDIX. haviour will atone for the improprieties of early days. But as an inquiry has been made on the part of the relations of Mr. Robert Fergusson, whether he was expelled from this Univer- sity, Mr. Nicolas Vilant, Professor of Mathematics, the only person now in the University who was then a member of it, declares, for their satisfaction, that in the year 1767, as he re- collects, at the first institution of the prizes given by the Earl of Kinnoul, late Chancellor of this University, there was a meeting, one night after the determination of the prizes for that year, of the winners, in one room of the United College, and a meeting of the losers in another room at a small dis- tance; that in consequence of some communication between the winners and the losers, a scuffle arose, which was reported to the Masters of the College ; and that Robert Fergusson and some others, who had appeared the most active, were expelled, but that the next day, or the day thereafter, they were all re- ceived back into the College, upon promises of good behaviour for the future. " Nicolas Vilant." F. — Page lxvii. "The behaviour of Mr. Forbes in the matter just related, has been reprobated as ungenerous in the extreme. But it seems questionable, whether the censure be merited in its full extent. Every man is, no doubt, bound to assist his fellow- men, and more particularly those who are connected with his own family, or have other claims to his patronage, as far as lies in his power. But it is difficult to fix the limits to which his exertions ought, in any particular case, to be carried. It may seem very clear to every one at the present day, that Fergusson was a [young] man of genius, and ought to have been promoted to some office which might have conferred in- dependence, at the same time that it left him leisure for the cultivation of his literary talents. This was, however, by no means so apparent at the period to which we refer, nor, per- haps, at any future period during the poet's lifetime [some- what oracular]. He presented himself in his uncle's house an expectant of favour; but his expectations might not, to any ordinary-minded person [?], appear very reasonable. " He was a young man that had addicted himself to the pro- fitless occupation of rhyming; [the visit was paid in 1768, when APPENDIX. he had not ' addicted' himself to 'rhyming,' when not a scrap was printed or known beyond the College of St. Andrews, at which, as shown, he had thrown off occasional short satirical pieces,] (who could tell he was to render himself eminent by it?) he could not submit his mind to common business [??], and had aversions, that did not appear to rest on very feasible foundations, to certain employments which were proposed [proposed!] to him: and when we consider to how close a scrutiny it is reasonable that those who solicit patronage should be prepared to submit, it does not seem wonderful that he should have been regarded as a young man who was dis- posed to remain idle [?], and that his friends should have been discouraged from using that influence in behalf of one who did not seem willing to do what he could for himself [all this, when the fact was known, that he had no other relative to apply to, when he had had no situation whatever offered to him]. We know few of the circumstances that took place during Fergusson's residence with his uncle, and it is unjust to deal out reproaches so much at random." — Chambers. [Certainly! but equally "unjust," when so few "of the cir- cumstances" were known, to "deal out reproaches so much at random" against the fatherless boy.] G. — Page lxvii. The text sufficiently removes the violent reprobation of Mr. Forbes in respect of his treatment of the poet : but from a mass of letters and other documents that have been submitted to me by his grandson, the present John Forbes, Esq., Writer, Old Meldrum: and from other inquiries elsewhere, I have no hesitation in saying that Mr. Forbes appears to have been, in many respects, a very amiable and excellent individual. He was tacksman of the farm of Forresterhill near Old Meldrum : and died factor on the estates of Meldrum, Udny, Dyce, Straloch Barra, Leterky, &c. He accompanied his cousin, Forbes of Carnousie, to the battle of Culloden, against the rebels: and was appointed judicial factor on his attainted estate after the suppression of the Kebellion. The various letters which the present Mr. Forbes has forwarded to me, from Lord Forbes, Keith Urquhart, Esq., and other employers, express the highest sense of his " worth and integrity." Mr. Forbes died in 1783. I must add, that although Mr. Forbes CX VI APPENDIX. held a highly respectable situation, he was not at all in such '-affluent circumstances" as Dr. Irving and others following him represent. At the same time, it is matter of regret, that he did not subsequently place his sister, Mrs. Fergusson, in better cir- cumstances : and that, if for her sake only, he did not procure some befitting situation for his nephew. I cannot acquit Mr. Forbes of at least the suspicion of coldness in allowing his sister to 'dree' out her widowed days under the pressure of poverty so extreme: nor have I evidence to show that Mr. Forbes was possessed of the kindlier affectioris towards rela- tives: nor that he was not tinged, to some extent at least, with that spirit which disclaims the "poor." Mr. Forbes had many claims upon him at home, but nevertheless one so deserving, so uncomplaining, and one so nearly related as a sister, ought to have been regarded, in respect of herself and her son. H. — Page lxviii. I have stated in the text that Mr. John Forbes, son of the uncle of Fergusson, was likewise a " wooer of the Nine." Under the signature of ' Johnnie Grotts,' his son, the present Mr. Forbes, informs me, many pieces on local subjects appeared occasionally in the Aberdeenshire newspapers. Moreover, Mr. Forbes has forwarded for my perusal several MS. volumes of poems by his father, many of which display not a little satirical power, and others, considerable ingenuity and sprightliness of fancy. He appears to have prepared a collection or rather selection from his abundant MSS. for a volume. One selection he has entitled " Trifles light as air, by the deceased Johnny Grotts, now first published by his son, Sir John Barleycorn, Bart. J\e?7io omnibus horis sapit. 1802:" and I have read with great pleasure a very humorous After-piece in two acts, entitled ' Anti Impetigines, or Uncle Toby's Nervous Cordial,' the plot of which turns upon the impositions and rivalry of two quacks, ' Dr. Salmon and Dr. Bottom.' He takes for a motto a couplet from Fergusson, 'Tis thine to cure Devoid of Esculapian power. The MSS. of Mr. Forbes embrace Odes, Elegies, Songs, Epi- AITENDIX. grams, &c, &c, and the After-piece above mentioned, and a judicious selection might form an acceptable little volume. Fergusson inherited the 'poetic fire' apparently, as well from the mother's, as from the father's side. I. — Page lxxviii. Weekly Magazine. — The following lines to the memory of Mr. Walter Ruddiman, Founder of the Magazine, appeared in its IXth volume, pp. 287-8. To the Memory of Mr. Walter Ruddiman, late Printer in Edinburgh, and brother of Mr. Thomas Ruddiman, many years keeper of the Advocates' Library, well known in the literary world. Quern semper acerbum, Semper honoratum (sic dii voluistis), habebo. VlRG. With ev'ry peaceful virtue, fraught his mind, Of unaffected manners, social, kind ; To whom distress in vain could ne'er apply ; Whom honest labour found her best ally ; Whose useful life attain'd each virtuous end, The gentlest master, father, husband, friend ! Just Heav'n remark'd such merit here below, And bade his days in easy plenty flow. Thus blest with ev'ry good the world holds dear, His life unquestion'd, and his conscience clear, Of eighty-two revolving winters turn'd, By ev'ry rank esteem'd, belov'd, and mourn'd; Without one pang he quits this mortal dust, To join the perfect spirits of the just. Where then thy sting! O Death! untaught to spare? And all-devouring Grave! thy victory where? Accept these rhimes, thou dear departed shade, Prom one whose Muse thy kind indulgence made : Tis all she has to soothe her genuine woe, Tis all her gratitude could e'er bestow. O might they on the wings of Fame be rais'd, And, like thy virtues, much revolv'd and prais'd; APPENDIX. Those virtues too for ever recent keep, And teach the sullen marble how to weep. W . It cannot be out-of-place to introduce here an anecdote of the celebrated scholar Thomas Ruddiman, who was a brother of the preceding. Miss Ruddiman informed me, that a Lady having once said to the Grammarian, " Mr. R., you have writ- ten many a book for gentlemen in the languages — but not one for the ladies. Why?" "What! the languages, Madam." was his reply, "the languages; — No — no — one tongue is sufficient for any woman." J. — Page lxxxiii. The following anecdote of Fergusson appeared in the 'Weekly Magazine' [vol. xxxi. Feby. 2Gth, 1776]. For the Weekly Magazine. Anecdote of the late ingenious Mr. R. Fergusson. Mr. Fergusson being one day in company with some of his friends, and the discourse turning on poetry, one of the gen- tlemen, who was a little self-conceited, observed, that he thought there was no difficulty in equalling, if not excelling Gray's Elegy in a Country Churchyard, or any of Shenstone's pastorals. Upon which Fergusson and the other agreed that he should, in the first place, attempt the pastoral style; in which, if he succeeded, he should then be allowed to proceed to the elegiac, which the gentleman accordingly undertook to perform. Some time after, having pi-oduced his performance to Fergusson, our Caledonian bard began to read it with great attention, till coming to a passage, where the author supposed his mistress seated on an island in the middle of a river, and imagined himself to be writing love sonnets and throwing them into the stream, which he said would bear them to his dulcinea. " By Jove," exclaimed Fergusson, " you are mis- taken, for a river always throws its filth to the banks.'''' K. — Page lxxxiii. Luckie Middlemas. — Mr. Chambers, in his ' Life of Fer- gusson,' has given a communication from an individual who APPENDIX. shared in these meetings, which furnishes the following parti- culars respecting the extent and nature of their convivialities. "The entertainment almost invariably consisted of a few boards of raw oysters, porter, gin, and occasionally a rizzard [dried] haddock, which was neither more nor less than what formed the evening enjoyments of most of the citizens of Edinburgh. The best gin was then sold at about five shillings a gallon, and accordingly the gill at Lucky Middlemas's cost only threepence. The whole ' debauch ' of the young men seldom came to more than sixpence or sevenpence. Mr. S distinctly recollects that Fergusson always seemed unwilling to spend any more. They generally met at eight o'clock, and rose to depart at ten ; but Fergusson was sometimes prevailed upon to outsit his friends by other persons who came in later, and, for the sake of his company, entreated him to join them in further potations. The humour of his conversation, which was in itself the highest treat, frequently turned upon the odd and obnoxious characters who abounded in the town. In the case, however, of the latter, he never permitted his satire to become in the least rancorous. He generally con- tented himself with conceiving them in ludicrous or awkward situations, such, for instance, as their going home at night, and having their clothes bleached by an impure ablution from the garrets, — a very common occurrence at that time, and the mention of which was sufficient to awaken the sympathies of all present." — Communicated in 1827. L. — Page Ixxxiii. Cape Club. — I transfer to this Note, various interesting memoranda, which I have gleaned concerning this famous club. Sommers, in his Life of Fergusson [Tract, p. 18], has given a meagre account of it ; but he was not a member until after the death of the poet, and appears to have written from memory alone. The papers, petitions, and minute-books, &c, of the club have been deposited in the Society of Anti- quaries of Scotland Museum ; and Mr. Daniel Wilson, the accomplished and zealous acting secretary, furnishes us with full details in a book, to which we have had frequent occasion, in annotating the poems, to refer, the "Memorials of Edin- burgh in the Olden Time." My quotations are from this work, and the club books themselves, which have been cour- CXX APPENDIX. teously placed at my service. Mr. Wilson's account is as follows : " The house which stands between the fore and back lands of the famed typographer, Andrew Hart, was celebrated during the last century, as one of the best frequented taverns in the neighbourhood of the cross, and a favourite resort of some of the most noted of the clubs, by means of which, the citizens of that period were wont to seek relaxation and amusement. Foremost among these was the Cape Club, celebrated in Fer- gusson's poem of ' Auld Reekie.' The scene of meeting for a considerable period, where Cape Hall was nightly inaugurated, was in James Mann's, at the Isle of Man Arms, Craig's Close. There a perpetual high jinks was kept up, by each member receiving, on his election, a peculiar name and character, Avhich he was ever afterwards expected to maintain. This feature, however, was by no means confined to the Cape Club, but formed one of the peculiarities of nearly all the convivial meetings of the Capital, so that a slight sketch of ' The Knights of the Cape,' will suffice for a good sample of these old Edin- burgh social unions. The club appears, from its minutes, to have been duly constituted, and the mode of procedure finally fixed, in the year 1764; it had, however, existed long before, and the name and peculiar forms which it then adopted, were derived from the characters previously assumed by its leading members. Its peculiar insignia were, 1st, a cape, or crown, which was worn by the sovereign of the cape on state occasions, and which, in the palmy days of the club, its enthusiastic devotees adorned with gold and jewels; and 2c?, two maces in the form of huge steel pokers, which formed the sword and sceptre of his majesty in Cape Hall. These, with other relics of this jovial fraternity, are now appropriately hung in the lobby of the Society of Antiquaries. The first sovereign of the order after its final constitution was Thomas Lancashire, the once celebrated comedian, on whom Fergusson wrote the well known epitaph. The comedian rejoiced in the title of Sir Cape, and in right of his sovereignty, gave name to the club, while the title of Sir Poker, which pertained to its oldest member, James Aitken, suggested the insignia of royalty. Tom Lancashire was succeeded on the throne by David Herd, the well-known editor of what Scott calls the first classic edition of Scottish songs, whose knightly soubriquet was Sir Scrape. His secretary was Jacob More, the well known landscape painter, APPENDIX. CXX1 and among his subjects may be mentioned the celebrated his- torical painter, Alexander Eunciman, Sir Brimstone ; Robert Fergusson, the poet, dubbed Sir Precentor, most probably from his fine musical voice; Gavin Wilson, the poetical shoe- maker, wbo published a collection of masonic songs, in 1788, whose club title was Sir Maccaroni ; Walter Williamson of Cardrona, Esq., a thorough specimen of the rough bon vivant laird of the last age ; Walter Ross, the antiquary; Sir Henry Raeburn, who had already been dubbed a knight, under the title of Sir Toby, ere George IV. gave him that of Sir Henry ; with a host of other knights of great and little renown, of whom we shall only specify Sir Sluyd, as the notorious William Brodie was styled. Some ingenious member has drawn on the margin of the minutes of his election, April 27th, 1773, a representation of his last public appearance, on the new drop of his own invention, some fifteen years later. The old books of the club abound with such pencilled [and pen and ink] illustrations and commentaries, in w"hich the free touch of Runciman may occasionally be traced, among ruder sketches of less practised hands. "The following was the established form of inauguration of a Knight of the Cape. The novice, on making his appearance in Cape Hall, was led up to the sovereign by two knightly sponsors, and having made his obeisance, was required to grasp the large poker with his left hand, and laying his right hand on his breast, the oath de fideli, was administered to him by the sovereign, — the knights present all standing un- covered, — in the following words: — " I swear devoutly by this light, To be a true and faithful knight, With all my might, Both day and night, So help me Poker ! " Having then reverentially kissed the larger poker, and continuing to grasp it, the sovereign raised the smaller poker, with both his royal fists, and aiming three successive blows at the novice's head, he pronounced with each, one of the initial letters of the motto of the club, C. F. D., explaining their im- port to be Concordia fratrum decus. The knight elect was then called upon to recount some adventure or scrape which had befallen him, from some leading incident in which the sove- l ArPENDIX. reign selected the title conferred on him, and which he ever after bore in Cape Hall. The Club whose honours were thus carefully hedged in by solemn ceremonial, established its im- portance by deeds consistent with its lofty professions, among which may be specified the gift by his Majesty of the Cape, to his Majesty of Great Britain, in 1778, of a contribution from the knights of one hundred guineas, ' to assist his Majesty in raising troops.' The entry-money to the club, which was originally half-a-crown, gradually rose to a guinea, and it seems to have latterly assumed a very aristocratic character. A great regard for economy, however, remained with it to the last. On the 10th of June 1776, it is resolved ' that they shall at no time take bad halfpence from the house, and also, recommend it to the house to take none from them ! ' and one of the last items entered on their minutes, arises from an intimation of the landlord, that he could not afford them suppers under sixpence each, when it is magnanimously determined by the club, in full conclave, ' that the supper shall be at the old price of fourpence halfpenny ! ' " Sir Cape, the comedian [and sovereign!] appears to have eked out the scanty rewards of the drama, by himself maintain- ing a tavern at the head of the Canongate, which was for some time patronized by the knights of the Cape. They afterwards paid him occasional visits to Comedy Hut, New Edinburgh, a house which he opened beyond the precincts of the North Loch, about the year 1770, and there they held their ninth Grand Cape, as their great festival was styled, on the 9th of June of that year. This sketch of one of the most famous convivial clubs of last century will suffice to give some idea of the revels in which grave councillors and senators were wont to engage, when each slipt off his professional for- mality along with his three-tailed wig and black coat, and bent his energies to the task of such merry fooling, while his example was faithfully copied by clerk and citizen of every degree. ' Such, O Themis, were anciently the sports of thy Scottish children.' " From a note of Mr. Wilson's we are informed that " Pro- vincial Cape Clubs, deriving their authority and diplomas from the parent body, were successively formed in Glasgow, Man- chester, and London, and in Charleston, South Carolina, each of which was formally established, in virtue of a royal commis- sion granted by the sovereign of the Cape. The American APPENDIX. off-shoot of this old Edinburgh fraternity, is said to' be still flourishing in the southern states." Mr. Wilson mentions the " Grand Cape of 1770." On this jubilee, as subsequently in 1780, 1790, and 1800, the birthday of Thomson, the author of " The Seasons," was kept ' with all the honours:' the 22d of September [in error for the 11th], being duly set apart by " the knights." The words of the musical entertainment of the festival of 1770 are preserved in Ruddiman's " Weekly Magazine " of the date. In the list of original members, 1764, the name of Michael Bruce occurs. Could this have been the gentle poet of Loch- leven? He was at the university, 1762-66; and the records show that students, and even students of divinity, were not quite so rare as black swans in the club. Some of the soubriquets are risible enough. Thus Sir Fucus, Sir Tartan, Sir Nun and Abbess, Sir Hayloft, Sir Beefsteaks, Sir Old Wife [Stephen Clark, music master, the friend of Burns and George Thomson], Sir Baboon, Sir Marriage, Sir Bank [James Sibbald, editor of the ' Chronicle of Scottish Poetry,' &c], Sir Tumult [James Balfour, the singer, whose portrait adorns the Golf House, Leith Links], Sir Catch [Kin- caid the eminent publisher], &c, &c. From the petition books, I find that Fergusson acted occa- sionally as secretary. Under the following dates his knightly signature is duly appended, 18th and 22d January, 10th and 14th April, 1st and 7th September, and 12th October, 1773; and his own signature is likewise preserved in the petition book, under the following dates, January 13th, ' recommending as a knight, a Mr. John Hepburn, student of divinity ' [the whole of this petition in the poet's holograph] ; July 1st, ' re- commending a Mr. William Murray, writer in Edinburgh ;' 1st September, ' recommending a Mr. William Logan, merchant in Edinburgh;' 7th September, 'recommending a Mr. George Cameron, engraver,' and 12th October, ' recommending a Mr. Pougall Campbell, writer, Campbelton,' all 1773, and all of whom were duly admitted. There is one very amusing petition which I annex, as it relates to one not " unknown to fame " among the curious. It appears that Gavin Wilson, the shoemaker-poet, had applied for a " knightship," but in vain. Nothing daunted, he re-peti- tioned as follows : 12 APPENDIX. " Worthy Soveraign and Knights, "It gave me great unhappyness to hear that my petition was unsuccessful^ and that some weighty objections lay against me; but as one of these objections may be toler- ably moderated, and the other three totally removed, I deter- mined to reclaim, and once more lay my petition before the worthy society, in hopes of your favourable acceptance. The first objection, I am told, was the tallness of my person, this not so much my fault as it is my infelicity, when it lys against my admission ; but I humbly think that that objection ought to have operated as powerfully against the soveraign, and depute- soveraign [Lancashire and Herd], but perhaps what may be thought a fault in a subject, is sometimes thought an excel- lence in a soveraign, but this fault cannot be [an] increasing one, as I was at my full length twenty years agoe, and I find that fault upon the deminishing hand; but if I am admitted, I shall wear my shoes as low in the heels as possible, and if there be a chair in the room lower than another, I shall beg to be poss[ess]ed of it, which, allong with contracting my figure as much as I can, I make no doubt but I shall by these means, bring myself nearly upon a levell with the middle-sized knights. The second objection was the largeness of my hatt; the objection shall be totally removed, for I shall have a new Mac[a]roni hatt, which I will call my Cape hatt ; and if it be not the least hatt in the society, I will bind myself over to drink the fill of it, either in ale, porter, or punch, every time it comes to my turn to drink. The third objection was, I wore a black wigg; the objection shall also be removed ; though I have not wore a powdered wigg these thirty years, I will powder my wigg when I come to the Cape. In the fourth objection, I am affraid that my accomplishments have been over-rated, and that I have got credit for qualifications I have no pretension to; none of the knights of the society, whose oratori[c]al powers have gained them so much reputation, for eloquence and poignant witt, will need to have the smallest apprehen- sion that their glory shall be eclipsed by such a rival, for I declaire that I will (like many knights of the Cape), speak very little, but will listen (like them), with the greatest atten- tion to the floride speeches and brilliant sallies of the orators and witts, and join with them in the laugh of approbation. Nor need the poets have any suspicious apprehension of any endeavour of mine to establish my charecter in opposition or APPENDIX. CXXV derogation of theirs; for I promise that I will not be concern- ed in writing or composing either song, ode, tragedy, comedy, or farce, on any subject whatever concerning the Cape, with- out the express desire, consent, and licience of the said poets, orators, and witts ; and agreeable to this resolution, although I could have expressed my sentiments tolerably in verse, I rather chuse to lay this, my petition, before the society, in plain honest prose, by which the afforsaid orators, poets, and witts may see that they have nothing to fear from my small ability in their way, but that they will continue undisturbedly to enjoy the happiness of exciting the admiration and ap- plause of all the silent knights. I therefore hope that this petition, written on this and the two preceeding pages, will be taken into your serious consideration, and admitt your humble petitioner into all the honours and privileges of your worthy Society, and your petitioner shall ever pray. [Signed] Ga. Wilson." Need we say that this whimsical reclaiming petition was suc- cessful. His title was Sir Macaroni : but he appears to have forfeited the "honours and privileges" in 1780. The date of his admission was 30th January 1773. Fer- gusson had been admitted only three months before. We here close our 'Memoranda' on the Cape-Club: but the reader is referred to the poems, p. 132, in ' Auld Eeikie,' and relative notes. M. — Page xcviii. The following documents relative to Fergusson and Burns m respect of the head-stone over the grave of the former, will no doubt prove interesting : — Extract from the Records of the managers of the Kirk and Kirk Yard funds of Canongate, relative to the erection, by ; Robert Burns, of a Headstone in memory of Robert Fergus- son. " Session House within the Kirk of Canongate, the 22nd of February, 1787. " Sederunt of the Managers of the Kirk and Kirk Yard Funds of Canongate. ; - Which day, the treasurer to the said funds produced a let- 13 APPENDIX. ter from Mr. Robert Burns, of date the sixth current, which was read and appointed to be engrossed in their sederunt book, and of which letter the tenor follows : To the honorable Baillies of Canongate, Edinburgh. " Gentlemen, " I am sorry to be told, that the remains of Robert Fergusson, the so justly celebrated poet, a man whose talents for ages to come will do honour to our Caledonian name, lie in your churchyard among the ignoble dead, unno- ticed and unknown. " Some memorial to direct the steps of the lovers of Scot- tish song, when they shed a tear over the " narrow house " of the bard who is no more, is surely a tribute due to Fergusson's memory; a tribute I wish to have the honour of paying. " I petition you then, gentlemen, to permit me to lay a simple stone over his revered ashes, to remain an unalienable property to his deathless fame. I have the honour to be, Gentlemen, Your very humble servant, Robert Burns." "Thereafter the said managers, in consideration of the laudable and disinterested motion of Mr. Burns, and the pro- priety of his request, did and hereby do unanimously grant power and liberty to the said Robert Burns, to erect a head- stone at the grave of the said Robert Fergusson, and to keep up and preserve the same to his memory in all time coming. " Extracted forth of the records of the managers, by William Sprott, Clerk.'" Extract from the Elogia Sepulchralia Edinburgena. "From inattention in the mason employed to erect this monument, the foundation soon gave way, and it was in danger of falling. When this was observed, Burns, as well as Fergusson, was then also numbered with the dead. Some members of the Esculapian club, animated by that pious zeal for departed merit, which had before led them to prevent some other sepulchral monuments from going to ruin, applied for APPENDIX. liberty to repair this tribute from one poet to the memory of another ; and permission being granted, they took that oppor- tunity of affixing to it an additional inscription, commemorat- ing the genius of Burns. The poetical part of it is taken, almost verbatim, from the Elegy written by Burns himself on Captain Matthew Henderson. " Dignum laude verum musa vetat mori. " Lo ! Genius, proudly, while to Fame she turns, Twines Currie's laurels with the wreath of Burns. Roscoe. " To the Memory op Robert Burns, the Ayrshire Bard; who was born at doonside on the 25th of January, 1759 ; and died at dumfries on the 22nd of July, 1796. " O Robert Burns ! the man ! the brother ! And art thou gone, — and gone for ever! And hast thou cross'd that unknown river, Life's dreary bound! Like thee where shall we find another The world around ! " Go to your sculptured tombs, ye great, In a' the tinsel trash o' state ! But by the honest turf I'll wait, Thou man of worth ! And weep the sweetest poet's fate E'er liv'd on earth." x The " pious zeal" of the JEsculapian Club was certainly commendable; but we cannot say so much for their taste in affixing an " additional inscription." Luckily the unseemly sign-board on which it was inscribed, decayed, and on the occasion of the recent repairs and improvements, it was re- moved. The grave now appears as in our Vignette. The Gentleman's Magazine (November 1823) publishes a 1 Lives of Scottish Poets, vol. iii. pp. 84—87. CXXV111 APPENDIX. £2 14 , 16 2 JO 2 1 5 8 5 4 6 £5 10 document of a curious nature, namely, the account of Messrs. J. and R. Burn, builders, against Robert Burns, for the ex- pense of the monument. It was as follows: — " Mr. Robert Burns 1789, To J. and R. Burn. June 23. 54 feet polished Craigleith stone, for a head- stone, for Robert Fergusson, at Is., 10 ft. 8 inches dble. base mouldings, at Is. 6d, 4 large cramp irons, 2 stones to set the base on, at Is., 320 letters on do. at 8s., Lead and setting up do., Grave-digger's dues, The original receipt is now in the possession of Major James Glencairn Burns, son of the poet. The generous action of Burns did not go unnoticed even at the time. The editor has in his possession a contemporary broadside which contains (1) a few stanzas from Hamilton of Gilbertfield's letter to Ramsay; (2) the motto which Burns prefixed to the first or Kilmarnock edition of his poems 1786; and (3) the epitaph for Fergusson, with the following note. " Mr. Robert Burns, the celebrated Ayrshire Bard, with a generosity which does honour to his feelings, has, at his own expense, caused a stone to be placed in the Canongate Church-yard, Edinburgh, over the remains of the late unfor- tunate Scottish Bard, Mr. Robert Fergusson, with the follow- ing inscription : No sculptured marble here, nor pompous lay, Nor storied urn, nor animated bust, This simple stone directs pale Scotia's way, To pour her sorrows o'er her poet's dust." APPENDIX. N. — Page c. As might have been anticipated, the Magazines and News- papers of the day teemed with Odes and Elegies and Epitaphs to the memory of Fergusson. I have read a great many of them, but cannot ask my readers to do so. They are, as poe- try, utterly worthless. The ' Vanity of Human Wishes, an Elegy on the untimely death of a Scots Poet,' by John Tait, W. S., has been usually appended to editions of Fergusson. I cannot think of doing so. It was the heart-utterance of one who greatly esteemed and loved Fergusson, — but who must have been a very weak and puling (however worthy) man, and entirely innocent of all poetic inspiration. The following is the notice of Fergusson from the Obituary of the " Weekly Magazine." It was composed by Mr. Rud- diman, jun., and, slightly extended, forms the Life usually prefixed to editions of the poems: — " [Died] at Edinbui-gh, Mr. Robert Fergusson, well known in the literary world for his poetical abilities. — To attempt a char- acter of this youthful bard must be a vain essay, as it would be equally difficult to do justice to his merit. No colours but his own could paint him to the life, and we know none in his line of composition capable to sketch him out. His talent of ver- sification in the Scots dialect has been exceeded by none, equalled by few. The subjects he chose were generally un- common, often temporary. His images and sentiments were lively and striking, which he had a knack in clothing with the most agreeable and natural expression. Had he enjoyed life and health to a maturer age, it is probable he would have revived our ancient Caledonian poetry, of late so much ne- glected or despised. His Hallow-Fair, Edinburgh Election, Leith Races, are master-pieces in this style, and will be lasting monuments of his genius and vivacity. — For social life, he possessed an amazing variety of qualifications. With the best good-nature, and a great degree of modesty, he was always sprightly, always entertaining. His powers of song were very great in a double capacity. When seated, with some select companions, over a friendly bowl, his wit flashed like light- ning, struck the hearers irresistibly, and set the table in a roar. — But, alas ! these engaging, nay bewitching qualities, proved CXXX APPENDIX. fatal to their owner, and shortened the period of his rational existence. So true is that observation of the poet, Great wit to madness sure is near ally'd, And thin partitions do their bounds divide. Yet he found favour in the sight of Providence, who was pleased speedily to call him from a miserable state of being, to a life of early immortality.' ESSAY GENIUS AND POEMS OF ROBERT FERGUSSON. Some may be disposed to say, with Burns of himself, on reading this heading, "I doubt it's hardly worth the while To be sae nice wi' Robin." I demur : but let me not be misunderstood. I by no means claim ' genius ' for Robert Fergusson in the high- est sense of the word. I have no wish to exalt him, as has been done, to the platform of our Ramsay or Burns. At the same time I do think that it contains matter of much suggestion, that occasional poems, so wholly, seemingly, evanescent and perishable, should still, well nigh a century subsequent to their original appearance, retain all their contemporary attractions and interest, remaining to us, like those delicate fossil-flowers pre- served underneath a world-strata. Within these twelvemonths it was made known that the humble, but memorable headstone over the ashes of Fergusson was going to decay. Instantly, from all broad Scotland subscriptions came in to the right- hearted almoner, Robert Gilfillan (since "at rest" also), and it now stands within its " pillars and chains," re- newed and ornamented thus by the hundreds of Scotch- men whose hearts still beat warmly at the name of the author of the ' Farmer's Ingle.' From America too, is wafted if possible a still more ESSAY ON THE GENIUS interesting tribute. Very recently, on an occasion which assembled in Boston the learned and the eloquent and the gifted of our daughter-land, with the peerless Byrant at the head, I read a Scottish Memory-Toast which places the name of Fergusson foremost, — " The four Roberts." Robert Fergusson, — Robert Burns, — Robert Tannahill, — Robert Nicoll: and touching, and graceful, and heart- felt was the fourfold tribute : but especially that to Fer- gusson. In making a few remarks on the ' genius and poems of Fergusson,' assuming that it is unnecessary at this epoch to vindicate a place for him, I shall notice shortly these three things : I. His self-estimation. II. The twofold object-matter of his poems. III. His satirical powers and nationalism. I have to speak, first, of Fergusson in respect of ' his self-estimation ; ' and certainly this is a peculiarly pleas- ing feature in his character. He was distinguished for modesty. Anxious to win a place in the roll of his country's sons, he nevertheless, kept bach. Enthusiastic admirers likened him, again and again, to Allan Ramsay. He refused the idle compliment in no pleasant mood. Com- pared even to Pennecuick, whom he far excels in every respect, he "blushed" and likewise said no. True, when these " flatteries," as he was wont to call them, with particular emphasis, were addressed to him, the 1 Farmer's Ingle,' the ' Odes to the Bee,' and ' Gowdspink,' ' Hallow Fair,' and indeed, all his Scottish poems, save only a very few, were unwritten. But, through life, he continued to entertain this lowly opinion of his own merits. In this, however, he was thoroughly discriminative. While he rejected the compliments mentioned, he never- theless, with equal fervour, asserted his own particular AND POEMS OF ROBERT FERGUSSON. CXXX111 claims. Thus, towards the close of his very beautiful Ode to the Bee, he exclaims, " Like thee, by fancy wing'd, the muse Scuds ear' an' heartsome ower the dews, Fu' vogie an' fu' blythe to crap The winsome flow'rs frae nature's lap, Twining her living garlands there, That lyart time can ne'er impair. They are only ( flowers' that he gathers; but they are such as he feels shall ' never wither;' nor was he mistaken. The same feature is brought out in his t Epistle to Andrew Gray.' He bids his friend at " Nature keek," and adds, " Her road awhile is rough and round, An' few poetic gowaris found ; The stey braes o' the muses ground, We scarce can crawl up ; But on the tap we're light as wind To scour an' gallop. It will be observed that it is only the ' gowans ' that he speaks of, a fair but a lowly flower. He wishes to be inspired, not by the elder makars, or by Ramsay, but by the tender Hamilton. " Near what bright burn, or crystal spring, Did you your winsome whistle hing? The muse shall there, wi' wat'ry e'e, Gie the dunk swaird a tear for thee." And he was right. His was the Doric pipe, — a corn stem plucked fresh from the field, and sweet, and natural, and true as nature herself, is the music. " This is my instrument, and I shall play upon it as it is capable." We have smallest faith in Toricelli-anthems on the Jew's harp. It is unnatural, out of place, improbable, albeit semi-historical. ESSAY ON THE GENIUS I have to speak, 2dly, of ' the twofold object matter of his poems.' The line of demarcation is plain and pal- pable. Such poems as ' The Daft Days,' ' The King's Birthday in Edinburgh,' ' The Election,' ' Caller Oysters,' and the ' Rising and Sitting of the Session,' lead us into the crowded, grievously odorous, " cabined, cribbed, confined" streets of the town. While the 'Farmer's Ingle,' ' Ode to the Gowdspink,' ' Hame Content,' ' Caller Water,' and ' Ode to the Bee,' take us out into the cool air of the country. The dew lies thick on all his poems, dated ' Broomhouse,' and 'North Belton,' and other " loopholes of retreat." All his ' days ' among the ' green fields ' were Idyls. His descriptions are tinged with the golden sunshine, and alas! one feels with an autumnal sadness. Those pieces which are laid in the town, dash off, with a few seemingly care- less touches, the Edinburgh life of the period. The ' sprushed ' city guard, the ' wigged lawyers,' the skirl- ing 'oyster wives,' the crowding 'browster shoppies,' the parti-ragged 'blue-gown bodies,' the 'plouky-nosed' bon vivant, the consequential 'bailie,' the dressed-up ' Macarony,' the ' clashing servants,' the jovial ' club,' the lazy ' chairman,' the 'usefu' cadie,' the ancient spinster out ' rather late,' in short, the whole of Edinburgh in the ' olden time,' are presented with the humour of Hogarth, and the fidelity of Kay. There is a simplicity of expression and absence of ' getting up ' in these that make them appear to have been much easlier composed than they were — ausus idem frustra laboret. What can exceed the daguerreotype precision of this picture of a consequential, vain, up-setting citizen during an " election?" Haste, Epps, quo John, an' bring my gizz ! Take tent ye dinna't spulzie; AND POEMS OF ROBERT FERGUSSON. CXXXY Last night the barber gae't a friz, An' straikit it wi' ulzie. Hae done your paritch, lassie Liz, Gi'e me my sark and gravat, I'se be as braw's the Deacon is Whan he taks affidavit O' faith the day. Whar's Johnny gaun, cries neebor Bess, That he's sae gayly bodin, Wi' new kam'd wig, weel syndet faee, Silk hose, for hamely hodin ? ' Our Johnny's nae sma' drink you'll guess, i He's trig as ony muir-cock, ' An' forth to mak' a Deacon, lass; 1 He downa speak to poor fock ' Like us the day.' " How the little bustling personage crying for his ' wig ' and ' sark ' and ' gravat,' and demanding attention from ' Epps and Liz,' and all, is contrasted in the second stanza, with the starched, all-important voter " for the deacon," the observed (in his own mind) of all observers. " He downa speak to poor fock." In one stroke, by the re- marks of " neebor Bess " and her companion, is the char- acter placed before ns. But, although Fergusson was gifted with an eye to the broadly humorous of " the town," he seems always delighted to escape to the country. He pourtrays with inimitable ease and felicity the " King's Birth-Day in Edinburgh ;" but what says he at the close ? He will not ask his Muse to " swell the theme." " She'll rather to the fields resort, Whare music gars the day seem short, Whare doggies play, and lambies sport On gowany braes ; Whare peerless Fancy hads her court And times her lays." ■m 2 ESSAY ON THE GENIUS And thus he ever appears, like his own ' Butterfly in the Street.' " Poor butterfly! thy case I mourn, To green kail-yard and fruits return ; How could you troke the mavis' note For penny-pies all piping hot?" He visits " Leith Races," but what a delightful vision meets him on the way. " In July month, ae bonny morn When Nature's rokelay green Was spread owre ilka rig o' corn, To charm our rovin een ; Glow'rin about, I saw a quean, The fairest 'neath the lift: Her een were o' the siller sheen, Her skin, like snawy drift Sae white that day. Quo she, ' I ferly unco sair, ' That ye sud musin gae ; ' Ye wha hae sung o' Hallow-fair, ' Her winter-pranks, and play ; ' When on Leith-sands the racers rare ' Wi' Jocky louns are met, ' Their orra pennies there to ware, ' And drown themsels in debt ' Fu' deep that day. ' And wha are ye, my winsome dear, That taks the gate sae early ? Whare do ye win, gin ane may speer, For I right meikle ferly, That sic braw buskit laughin lass Thir bonny blinks shou'd gie, And loup, like Hebe, owre the grass, As wanton, and as free, Frae dool this day? AND POEMS OF ROBERT FERGUSSON. CXXXV11 ' I dwall araang the cauler springs ' That weet the Land o' Cakes, c And aften tune my canty strings ' At bridals and late-wakes. ' They ca' me Mirth : — I ne'er was kend, ' To grumble or look sour: ' But blithe wad be a lift to lend, ' Gif ye wad sey my power, ' And pith, this day.' " I have placed the Verses of the Reverend James Nicol after Fergusson in the Poem. Let us turn to a greater, Robert Burns. " Upon a summer Sunday morn, When Nature's face is fair, I walked forth to view the corn, An' snuff the caller air. The rising sun owre Galston muirs, Wi' glorious light was glintin', The hares were hirplin' down the furs, The lav'rocks they were chantiu' Fu' sweet that day. As lightsomely I glow'r'd abroad, To see a scene sae gay, Three hizzies, early at the road, Cam' skelpin' up the way: Twa had manteeles o' dolefu' black, But ane wj' lyart lining ; The third, that gaed a wee aback, Was in the fashion shining Fu' gay that day. The twa appear'd like sisters twin, In feature, form an' claes: Their visage, wither'd, lang, an' thin, An' sour as ony slaes : The third cam up, hap-step-an'-lowp, As light as ony lambie, rn- 3 ESSAY ON THE GENIUS An' \vi' a curchie low did stoop, As soon as e'er she saw me, Fu' kind that day. Wi' bonnet aff, quoth I, ' Sweet Lass, I think ye seem to ken me ; I'm sure I've seen that bonnie face, But yet I canna name ye : ' Quo she, an' laughin' as she spak, An' taks me by the hauns, ' Ye, for my sake, hae gien the feck Of a' the ten commans A screed some day. ' My name is Fun — your cronie dear, The nearest friend ye hae; An' this is Superstition here, An' that Hypocrisy. I'm gaun to Mauchline Holy Fair, To spend an' hour in daffin': Sin ye'll go there, yon runkl'd pair, We will get famous laughin' At them this day.'" I cordially admit, with Professor Walker, the beauty of this stenographic sketch of a Summer-day, and of the impersonation, but I cannot agree to rob Fergusson of his due praise. The ' Fun*' of the Ayrshire Bard cannot for one mo- ment be placed before the Mirth of the " Leith Races." As we have remarked, our poet was never so happy as when in the country. His eye sparkles and his heart beats hopefully when he feels himself breathing the natu- rally scented air. " Nature ! canty, blithe, and free, Whare is there keekin' glass like thee. and again : — when the Dog-day heats begin To birsle and to peel the skin, AND POEMS OF ROBERT FERGUSSON. CXXX1X ; May I lie streekit at my ease Beneath the cauler shady trees, (Far frae the din o' horrow town), Whare water plays the haughs bedown ; To jouk the Summer's rigour there, And breathe awhile the cauler air, 'Mang herds, and honest cottar fouck, That till the farm, and feed the flock ; Careless o' mair i He is thus "streekit at his ease" when a Bee hums heavily past him, weighing down, perhaps, the bobbing clover-tops within his view; or when the G-owdspink perches on the blossomed thorn, scattering its full snowy flowers upon the green grass, and with what evident delight and naturalness does he greet them. I must cite a- few lines in the ' Ode to the Gowdspink.' ( ' Sure, nature herried mony a tree, For spraings and bonny spats to thee ; Nae mair the rainbow can impart Sic glowing ferlies o' her art, Whase pencil wrought its freaks at will On thee, the sey-piece o' her skill. Nae mair thro' straths in simmer dight. We seek the rose to bless our sight ; Or bid the bonny wa' fiow'rs blaw, Where yonder ruins crumblin' fa'. Thy shinin' garments far outstrip The cherries upo' Hebe's lip, And foul the tints that nature chose To busk and paint the crimson rose." To present all the exquisite touches of these two ' Odes,' would be to transcribe the entire poems. My readers cannot do better than turn to them for themselves. Every one who possesses Fergusson, is certain to pos- sess a copy of Burns. Let me ask all who wish to feel the influence of our poet on that master-mind, to read Cxi ESSAY ON THE GENIUS the most hallowed of all Scottish poems, the " Cottar's Saturday Night," in the light of the " Farmer's Ingle." What can exceed the truthfulness of the following picture? "Grannie" has been telling the "bairns" of stories of ghosts and auld warld tales, " that touzle a' their tap, and gar them shake wi' fear ! " for " wi' eild our idle fancies a' return," and most touchingly apolo- gizes the poet, " The mind's aye cradled when the grave is near," and then she is presented to us, " Thrift industrious, bides her latest days, Tho* age her sair-dow'd front wi' runcles wave ; Yet frae the russet lap the spindle plays, Her e'enin' stent reels she as weel's the lave. On some feast-day, the wee things, buskit braw, Shall heeze her heart up wi' a silent joy, Fu' cadgie that her head was up, and saw Her ain spun cleedin' on a darlin' oy, Careless tho' death should mak' the feast her foy." Mark the concluding stanza, " Peace to the husbandman and a' his tribe, Whase care fells a' our wants frae year to year ! Lang may his sock and counter turn the glybe, And bauks o' corn bend down wi' laded ear! May Scotia's simmers ay look gay and green; Her yellow har'sts frae scoury blast decreed! May a' her tenants sit fu' snug and bien, Frae the hard grip o' ails and poortith freed, And a lang lasting train o' peacefu' hours succeed! The whole poem is distinguished by that felicity of thought and rhythm, which irresistibly impels one to get it by heart. I have to speak, 3dly, of his 'satirical powers and nationalism.' For illustration of this head, I need only adduce his address to " the Principal and Professors of the University of St. Andrews, on their superb treat to AND POEMS OF ROBERT FERGUSSON. cxli Dr. Samuel Johnson," and " Hame Content." The ludi- crous familiarity and ease of the former, and the off- hand biting severity of the latter, are alike admirable. Let us read in ' Hame Content.' He has exposed '•' the weary granes " of those who " rax and gaunt the lee-lang day," from very idleness. He has asked the sages, If man was made, To dree this hatefu' sluggard trade? Steekit frae nature's beauties a' That daily on his presence ca' ; At hame to girn, and whinge, and pine For fav'rite dishes, fav'rite wine. He answers, No ; points to the ' soaring bird,' the ' dewy grass,' the ' feeding cattle,' "Unyokit frae their winter stent;" and exclaims, " Unyoke thee, man, and binna sweer, To ding a hole in ill-hain'd gear." Then with inimitable ' pawkinessj " Some daft chiel reads, and taks advice; The chaise is yokit in a trice ; Awa' drives he like hunted deil, And scarce tholes time to cool his wheel, Till he's. Lord kens ! how far awa', At Italy, or well o' Spa." With what arch mingling of sarcasm and patriotic sentiment does he follow up this — "There rest him weel! for eith can we Spare mony glaikit gowks like he; They'll tell whare Tiber's waters rise, What sea receives the drumly prize, That never wi' their feet hae met The marches o' their ain estate." ;xlii ESSAY ON THE GENIUS How different was the poet himself I Truly said he, " My muse will nae gae far frae hame, Nor scour a' airths to hound for fame." The following is risible enough — " O Muse, be kind, an dinna fash us To flee awa' beyont Parnassus, Nor seek for Helicon to wash us, That heath'nish spring ; Wi' Highland whisky scour our hausses, An' gar us sing. Begin then, dame! ye've drunk your fill, You woudna hae the tither gill? You'll trust me, mair would do you ill, And ding you doited: Troth, 'twould be sair agains my will To hae the wyte o't." His patriotic feeling emerges in the address to the Professors. " Ah ! willawin's for Scotland now, Whan she maun stap ilk birky's mou, Wi' eistacks, grown as 'twere in pet Jn foreign land, or green-house net, Whan cog o' brose and cutty spoon, Is a' our cottar childer's boon, Wha thro' the week, till Sunday's speal, Toil for pease-cods an' gude lang kail." How naively does lie ' sklent his satire' in the " But- terfly."" Now shou'd our sclates wi' hailstanes ring,. What cabbage-fauld wad screen your wing? Say, fluttering fairy : wer't thy hap To light beneath braw Nanny's cap, Wad she, proud butterfly of May, In pity lat you skaithless stay? AND POEMS OF ROBERT FERGUSSON. CxliH The furies glancing frae her em Wad rug your wings o' siller sheen That, wae for thee ! far, far outvy Her Paris artists' finest dye : His "Braid Claith" embodies a melancholy and still patent truth. Beyond all question " Braid Claith lends fock an unco heeze, Maks many kail- worms butterflies, Gies mony a doctor his degrees For little skaith : In short, you may be what you please Wi' gude Braid Claith." Take the following comment on the whole poem from the ' Essays ' of one of the most vigorous and ill under- stood of modern thinkers, John Sterling. " The English are good friends : yet, so much is the fear of being connected with poverty in the eyes of the world stronger than friendship, that if an Englishman were to appear in the streets of London with an old coat on, I am persuaded that three out of four of his ac- quaintances would refuse to acknowledge him, unless it were in a very private place indeed .: and then they pro- bably would fear the sparrows on the house-tops, lest ' a bird of the air should carry the matter. 1 "* I have thus shortly considered these three things in respect of Robert Fergusson. I. His self-estimation. II. The twofold object-matter of his poems. III. His satirical'powers and nationalism. I have left the English poems, as of inferior, nay of lowest merit, unnoticed. " I have long admired Fergusson," wrote the illustrious Wordsworth to the Editor ; " several of his pieces I have 1 English Society, Essays and Tales, vol. II. p. 37 ; edit. 2 vols. 1848. CxllV ESSAY ON THE GENIUS, &C for many years committed to memory ; and I have often mourned over his untimely death. He was a great loss to Scotland : and the loss would have been greater had he not been followed by his mighty successor Robert Burns." It ought never to be forgotten that it was on meeting with Fergusson's " Scottish Poems," when, in his earlier years, he had given up all poetry, that Burns, (to use his own memorable words), " strung anew his wildly sounding lyre, with emulating vigour : " and that thus, mediate- ly, the world is indebted to Fergusson for many of his " thoughts that breathe, and words that burn." Beyond all doubt, aside from the generous exaggerations of the Ayrshire Bard, Robert Fergusson is " worthy to sing aye round his cloudy throne." He may not soar to the " forked height " where our monarch-poet " sole sits." His " rhythms" are not, like those of the " high chief of Scottish Song," the surface to a mine of profound thought. There are in him no broad day-break lights, cast on humanity or this mysterious world of ours. His voice is not of Ocean " with all its solemn noise." He should be rather described by Coleridge's -hidden brook In the leafy month of June, That to the sleeping woods all night Singeth a quiet tune;" or by Wordsworth's " Violet by a mossy stone Half hidden to the eye." And now Robert Fergusson is a name that Scotland " shall not willingly let die." POEMS OF KOBERT FEBGU&SON. POEMS m THE SCOTTISH DIALECT. ELEGY ON THE DEATH OF MR. DAVID GREGORY, LATE PROFESSOR OF MATHEMATICS IN THE UNIVERSITY OF ST. ANDREWS. [Died 13th April, 1765] Now mourn, ye college masters a' ! And frae your ein a tear lat fa', Fam'd Gregory death has taen awa' Without remeid ; The skaith ye've met wi's nae that sma', Sin Gregory's dead. x The students too will miss him sair, To school them weel his eident care, Now they may mourn for ever mair, They hae great need ; They'll hip the maist fek o' their lear, Sin Gregory's dead. 1 Lament in rhyme, lament in prose, Wi' saut tears trickling down your nose : Our bardie's fate is at a close, Past a' remeid : The last sad capstane of his woes ; Poor Mailie's dead. Burns' Elegy on the Death of Mailie. A ELEGY ON THE DEATH OF MR. DAVID GREGORY. He could, by Euclid, prove lang syne A ganging point compos'd a line ; By numbers too he cou'd divine, Whan he did read, That three times three just made up nim ; But now he's dead. In algebra weel skill'd he was, An' kent fu' weel proportion's laws ; He cou'd make clear baith B's and A's Wi' his lang head ; Rin owr surd roots, but cracks or flaws ; But now he's dead. Weel vers'd was he in architecture, An' kent the nature o' the sector, Upon baith globes he weel cou'd lecture, An' gar's tak heid ; Of geometry he was the hector ; But now he's dead. Sae weel's he'd fley the students a', Whan they war skelpin' at the ba', They took leg bail and ran awa', Wi' pith and speid ; We winna get a sport sae braw Sin Gregory's dead. Great 'casion hae we a' to weep, An' deed our skins in mourning deep, For Gregory death will fairly keep To take his nap ; He'll till the resurrection sleep As sound's a tap. THE DAFT DAYS. THE DAFT DAYS. [There is a poem under this title by the Eev. James Nicol of Traquair, which wants the vigour of Fergusson, but which certainly gives a graphic and humorous account of the same ' daft ' season as is it celebrated in the country. This poem, the ' Kern Supper,' the ' Lammas Feast,' and the ' Address to an Auld Maid, on seeing her spaein' her fortune in a tea-cup,' by the same author, preserve various Scottish customs and su- perstitions (fraets) which are unnoticed elsewhere. Altogether it affords us pleasure to commend Mr. Nicol's two small volumes published in 1805 to a not unworthy place in our Doric litera- ture. The ' Daft Days ' in Scotland correspond with those which are in England denominated the ' Christmas Holidays.' They are, 1st, Yule (Christmas) ; 2d, Hogmanay (last day of the year) ; 3d, New Year (first day of the year) ; 4th, Handsel Monday (first Monday of the year.) They have evidently re- ceived the designation of 'daft' from the wild festivity by which they were wont to be distinguished "in auld lang syne." The ancient carousing hospitality of this season is now " of the things that were," except among the very vul- gar; but still, as at Abbotsford, there are those among us who would with Sir "Walter deem it ' uncanny,' and who would with him feel 'uncomfortable,' were the new year not to be welcomed in, in the midst of their families, with the immemo- rial libation of a ' het pint.'] Now mirk December's dowie face Glowrs owr the rigs 1 wi' sour grimace, While, thro' his minimum of space, The bleer-ey'd sun, Wi' blinkin' light and stealing pace, His race doth run. From naked groves nae birdie sings ; To shepherd's pipe" nae hillock rings ; 1 " Gloiirs our the rigs," in first edition. THE DAFT DAYS. The breeze nae od'rous flavour brings From Borean cave ; And dwyning Nature droops her wings, Wi' visage grave. Mankind but scanty pleasure glean Frae snawy hill or barren plain, Whan Winter, 'midst his nipping train, Wi' frozen spear, Sends drift owr a' his bleak domain, And guides the weir. Auld Reikie ! thou'rt the canty hole, A bield for mony a caldrife soul, Wha snugly at thine ingle loll, Baith warm and couth ; While round they gar the bicker roll To weet their mouth. When merry Yule-day comes, I trow, You'll scantlins find a hungry mou ; Sma' are our cares, our stamacks fou 0' gusty gear, And kickshaws, strangers to our view, Sin' fairn-year. Ye browster wives ! now busk ye bra, And fling your sorrows far awa' ; Then, come and gie's the tither blaw 0' reaming ale, Mair precious than the Well of Spa, Our hearts to heal. THE DAFT DAI'S. Then, tho' at odds wi'a' the warl', Amang oursells we'll never quarrel ; Tho' Discord gie a canker'd snarl To spoil our glee, As lang's there's pith into the barrel We'll drink and 'gree. Fiddlers! your pins in temper fix, And roset weel your fiddlesticks, 1 But banish vile Italian tricks From out your quorum, Nor fortes wi' pianos mix — Gie's Tullochgorum. 2 For nought can cheer the heart sae weel As can a canty Highland reel ; 1 Come, fiddlers, gie your strings a twang, And rozet weel your bow. Takras' Poems, 1804, p. 97. 2 This stanza is invariably prefixed to the' Tullochgorum' of Skin- ner of Linshart, that " first of Scottish Songs," as Burns calls it, enthu- siastically oblivious of his own unrivalled minstrelsy ; and I believe that it was the germ of the whole of that song. The following stanza may suffice in proof; and let it be remembered that Fergusson's appeared in the Weekly Magazine, Jan. 2, 1772, while Skinner's did not until April 1776 in the Scots Weekly Magazine. What needs there be sae great a fraise, Wi' dringing dull Italian lays ? I wadna gie our ain strathspeys For half a hunder score o' em, They're dowf and dowie, dowf and dowie, Dowf and dowie at the best Wi' a' their variorum : — They're dowf and dowie at the best, Their allegros and a' the rest, They canna please a Scottish taste ; Compared wi' Tullochgorum. Fergusson's stanza as the motto is somewhat disingenuously suppressed in the collected edition of Skinner's works. (Vol. IV. supplementary). A3 THE DAFT DAYS. It even vivifies the heel To skip and dance : Lifeless is he wha canna feel Its influence. Let mirth abound ; let social cheer Invest the dawning of the year ; Let blithesome 1 innocence appear To crown our joy ; Nor envy, wi' sarcastic sneer, Our bliss destroy. And thou, great god of aqua vitce ! Wha sways the empire of this city — When fou we're sometimes capernoity — Be thou prepar'd To hedge us frae that black banditti, The City Guard. 2 ' The Reel o' Tullochgorum' forms one of the most effective of Geikie's inimitable etchings. (1 vol. 4to, No. 17.) 1 Var. sportive. 2 This " cankered pack, " as Fergusson calls the City Guard in • Hallow-fair,' was a body of armed police which existed in Edinburgh from an early date up to 1817, when it was finally dissolved. It was composed of a hundred men or thereby, divided into three companies, the officers being generally decayed tradesmen, and the privates, so called, invalid members of (as from our Poet's humorous mimicry should have been supposed) Highland regiments. Many curious anecdotes and reminiscences of this notable band will be found in Kay's ' Portraits;' and likewise in Wilson's truly invaluable 'Memorials of Edinburgh in the Olden Time.' They are frequently mentioned by Scott, and espe- cially in the ' Heart of Mid-Lothian,' in which, in describing the guard particularly, he adverts to the frequent notice which Fergusson takes of them, which, he says, "might have almost entitled him to be considered their poet-laureate." The Lochaber axes and other paraphernalia of the ' body ' are now in the Museum of the Society of Antiquaries of Scot- land. ELEGY OX THE DEATH OF SCOTS MUSIC. t ELEGY OX THE DEATH OF SCOTS MUSIC. Mark it, Cesario ! it is old and plain, The spinsters and the knitters in the sun, And the free maids that weave their thread with bones, Do use to chant it. Shakspeare's Twelfth Xight, Act ii. Sc. 4. Ox Scotia's plains, in days of yore, When lads and lasses tartan wore, Saft Music rang on ilka shore, In hamely weid ; But Harmony is now no more, And Music dead. Round her the feather'd choir would wing, Sae bonnily she wont 1 to sing, And sleely wake the sleeping string, Their sang to lead, Sweet as the zephyrs of the spring ; But now she's dead. Mourn ilka nymph and ilka swain, Ilk sunny hill and dowie glen ; Let weeping streams and Naiads drain Their fountain head ; Let echo swell the dolefu' strain, Since Music's dead. 2 1 Tar. us'd. 2 Hogg, in his notes on Burns, has recorded that Scott once showed him " a very old metrical tale in heroic measure, as old apparently as G-awin Douglas's day. in which all the birds and beasts of the forest are called upon, as in his Elegy on the death of Captain Matthew Henderson, to 'lament:'" and that Scott said Burns' Elegy was taken therefrom. This is very problematical, as these old quaint-named poems were ex- cessively rare and inaccessible to Burns. Is the Elesy not rather a mag- nificent expansion of the present stanza, with scattered suggestions from other lines of the elegy ? ELEGY ON THE DEATH OF SCOTS MUSIC. Whan the saft vernal breezes ca' The grey-hair'd Winter's fogs awa', Naebody then is heard to blaw, Near hill or mead, On chaunter or on aiten straw, Since Music's dead. Nae lasses now, on simmer days, Will lilt at bleaching of their claes ; Nae herds on Yarrow's bonny braes, Or banks of Tweed, Delight to chant their hameil lays, Since Music's dead. At glomin', now, the bagpipe's dumb, Whan weary owsen hameward come ; Sae sweetly as it wont to bum, And pibrachs skreed ; We never hear its warlike hum, For Music's dead. Macgibbon's ! gane : Ah ! waes my heart ! The man in music maist expert, 1 M'Gibbon was celebrated in his time for his great execution on the violin. According to Tytler, in the Transactions of the Society of Anti- quaries of Scotland, vol. i., he was for "many years leader of the orchestra of the Gentlemen's Concert at Edinburgh," and was thought to play the music of Corelli, Geminiani and Handel with, as observed, " great execution and judgment." He died, 1756, bequeathing the whole of his ' estates and effects' to the Royal Infirmary of Edinburgh. I annex a list of his Works, which are generally esteemed good : 1, Six Sonatos, or Solos for a German flute, or violin, composed by William Macgibbon. Edin. 1740. 2, A Collection of Scots tunes, some with variations for a violin, hautboy or German flute, with a bass for a violoncello or harpsi- chord. By William Macgibbon. Book i., 1743. 3, A second collection, ick$o>i. 64 THE LEA-RIG. I'll rowe thee o'er the lea-rig My ain kind dearie, 0. These two 'stanzas' Burns gives as the 'beginning' of the ' old words ' which he states are omitted in the Museum, ' though much more beautiful than these inserted.' namely Fergusson's. We have both before us, and for ourselves must dissent from the usually correct dictum of the Ayrshire Poet. We do not conceive the fragment to be in any respect ' much more beautiful.' There is a version according to Motherwell and a certain ballad collector in the ' north countrie' entitled the 'Warehorse:' but it could not be that to which Burns alluded, as appears to be supposed by a tasteful writer in the Renfrewshire Magazine ' for December 1846, as his 'fragment' [the above] does not correspond to these so called recovered words' of a great-grand-mother, which certainly Burns would have been the last to praise. Burns wrote the beautiful words 'When o'er the hill the eastern star' to this air: but they have not displaced those of Fergusson, which are usually sung along with the additional stanzas by Mr. William Reid of Glasgow, of inferior merit. In Wood's ' Songs of Scotland, [Vol. I . p. 143] these ' additions ' of Reid are appended to those of Burns, while Fergusson's is dismissed thus : " Fergusson's song, of which they [Reid's] were intended to be a continu- ation, is scarcely fit for insertion here." What ! Ye gods and little fishes ! after Reid's, and after the worse than contemptible rhymes substituted throughout the work, on the principle that all "one's own geese are swans," for greatly superior old words. As 'scarcely fit' might be interpreted as an inu- endo, I could not refrain from noticing it. I give the ' Song' of Fergusson's as it was inserted by Burns in Johnson's Scots Musical Museum, [49, p. 50. Vol. I. Note 49, p. 53.] to the old melody which, with a 'jig' on the same subject, appear in Oswald.] Will ye gang o'er the lee-rig, my ain kind deary, ! And cuddle their sae kindly, wi' me, my kind deary ^ ■ At thornie dike and oirken tree, well daff, and ne'er be weary ; THE GHAISTS. 65 They'll scug ill een frae you and rne, mine ain kind deary ! Nae herds wi' kent, or colly there, Shall ever come to fear ye-0 ; But lav'rocks, whistling in the air, Shall woo, like me, their deary-0 ! While others herd their lambs and ewes, And toil for warld's gear, my jo, Upon the lee my pleasure grows, Wi' you, my kind deary-0 ! THE GHAISTS: A KIRK-YARD ECLOGUE. [The interlocutors in this poem are 'George Herriot' and ' George Watson,' who founded the well-known institutions in Edinburgh for the support and education of the sons of de- cayed citizens. These institutions, which are known respec- tively by the name of their founders, are immediately adjacent to Greyfriars Churchyard. The subject-matter of the ' debate' or 'flyting' gave rise, at the time, to a grievous paper-war, in which much ink was shed. The ' poem ' gives the gist of it : but the reader who is valiant enough will find full particu- lars in the collected pamphlets, squibs, &c. &c, of the period ; and in the different well-known Lives of Herriot and Watson, by Dr. Steven and others.] Did you not say, on good Ann's day, And vow and did protest, Sir, That when Hanover should come o'er We surely should be blest, Sir 1 An auld saiig made new again. Whare the braid planes in dowy murmurs wave Their antient taps out o'er the cauld-clad grave, Whare Geordie Girdwood, 1 mony a lang-spun day, Houkit for gentlest banes the humblest clay, 1 The late sexton.— .F. ' Geordie' Girdwood was the most remarkable member of the remarkable fraternity of the grave-diggers of Edinburgh. p3 66 THE GHAISTS. Twa sheeted ghaists, sae grizly and sae wan, 'Mang lanely tombs their douff discourse began. Cauld blaws the nippin north wi' angry sough, And showers his hailstanes frae the Castle Cleugh O'er the Grayfriars, whare, at mirkest hour, Bogles and spectres wont to tak their tour, Harlin' the pows and shanks to hidden cairns, Amang the hamlocks wild, and sun- burnt fearns, But nane the night save you and I hae come Frae the dern mansions of the midnight tomb. Now whan the dawning's near, whan cock maun craw, And wi' his angry bougil gar's withdraw, Ayont the kirk we'll stap, and there take bield, While the black hours our nightly freedom yield. HERRIOT. I'm weel content ; but binna cassen down, Nor trow the cock will ca' ye hame o'er soon, For tho' the eastern lift betakens day, Changing her rokely black for mantle grey, Nae weirlike bird our knell of parting rings, Nor sheds the caller moisture frae his wings. Nature has chang'd her course ; the birds o' day Dosin' in silence on the bending spray, While owlets round the craigs at noon-tide flee, And bludy hawks sit singand on the tree. He was a more than ordinarily drunken-looking, withered, unearthly, little old man, with sore eyes. Truly has Fergusson said that ' Geordie ' 'houkit for gentlest banes' for 'mony a lang-spun day.' It was told of him that in the course of his professional duties, he had turned over Greyfriars churchyard seven times. He has long • rested there him- self.' The Scottish ' Jest-Books ' contain many of his wild, ' rough, rude, ready-witted ' sayings. THE GHAISTS. Ah, Caledon ! the land I yence held dear, Sair mane mak I for thy destruction near ; And thou, Edina ! anes my dear abode, Whan royal Jamie sway'd the sovereign rod, In thae blest days, weel did I think bestow'd, To blaw thy poortith by wi 1 heaps o' gowd ; To mak thee sonsy seem wi' mony a gift, And gar thy stately turrets speel the lift : In vain did Danish Jones, x wi' gimcrack pains, In Gothic sculpture fret the pliant stanes : In vain did he affix my statue here, Brawly to busk wi 1 no w'rs ilk coming year ; 2 My tow'rs are sunk, my lands are barren now, My fame, my honour, like my flow'rs maun dow. Sure Major Weir, 3 or some sic warlock wight, Has flung beguilin' glamer o'er your sight ; Or else some kittle cantrup thrown, I ween, Has bound in mirlygoes my ain twa ein, If ever aught frae sense cou'd be believ'd (And seenil hae my senses been deceiv'd), 1 Inigo Jones is supposed to have designed ' Heriot's Hospital.' See the excellent Life of Jones recently written by the gifted son of Allan Cunningham, Mr. Peter Cunningham of Somerset House. 2 It was usual to ' busk wi' flowers ' the statue of Heriot on his re- curring birthday: and it is to this that, somewhat round-aboutly, Fer- gusson makes him allude. 3 Weir was a celebrated wizard in his ' day and generation,' and like the * black' fraternity went so far as to get himself hanged in 1678 there- for. The spot, say Chambers and Wilson, on which he was burned, on the sloping bank of Greenside, has been rescued recently from all profane associations by the erection of New Lady Glenorchy's Chapel thereon. Various memorials of this wizard, who by the way acquired his title of Major, as did the notorious Porteous that of Captain, from being an officer of that rank in the City-Guard, will be found scattered throughout Scott's ' Demonology,' Wilson, Chambers, and Geikie, in the last of which, Vedder, lacking however his wonted ' birr,' supplies an odd poem descriptive of the ' notions respecting his warlock doings.' [No. xxiv, Head of the Westbow.] ^ 68 THE GHATSTS. This moment, o'er the tap of Adam's tomb, 1 IV easy can I see your chiefest dome : Nae corbie fleein' there, nor crouping craws, Seem to forspeak the ruin of thy haws, But a' your tow'rs in wonted order stand, Steeve as the rocks that hem our native land. HERRIOT. Think na I vent my well-a-day in vain, Kent ye the cause, ye sure .wad join my mane. Black be the day 2 that e'er to England's ground Scotland was eikit by the Union's bond ; For mony a menzie of destructive ills The country now maun brook frae mortmain bills, That void our test'ments, and can freely gie Sic will and scoup to the ordain'd trustee, That he may tir our stateliest riggins bare, Nor acres, houses, woods, nor fishins spare, Till he can lend the stoitering state a lift Wi' gowd in gowpins as a grassum gift ; In lieu o' whilk, we maun be weel content To tyne the capital at three per cent. A doughty sum indeed, whan now-a-days They raise provisions as the stents they raise, 1 This is a conspicuous Mausoleum in Greyfriars churchyard belong- ing to the family of William Adam of Maryborough, architect, father of the somewhat celebrated Robert and James Adam, likewise architects. 2 The manner in which the 'pact' or Union was proceeded with, cer- tainly shall ever leave a stain upon the Scottish nobility. All gloomy forebodings and anticipations have happily been dissipated, still, plac- ing ourselves in the circumstances of- those who had felt the indigni- ties of England, and who proudly gloried in the nation's hard-won in- dependence, we cannot but have the deepest sympathy with illustrious patriots like Belhaven and Fletcher, who saw nothing but blackness and calamity in the ' eiking ' of the two kingdoms : nor indeed can I help yet feeling that the gradual system of centralization in London, of all our important national institutions, is a matter against which Scotchmen ought, as one, to lift up a stalwart protesting voice. THE GHAISTS. GO Yoke hard the poor, and lat the rich chiels be, Pamper'd at ease by ither's industry. Hale interest for my fund can scantly now Cleed a' my callants' backs, and stap their mo;i\ How maun their weyms wi' sairest hunger slack, Their duds in targets naff upo' their back, Whan they are doom'd to keep a lasting Lent, Starving for England's weel at three per cent. Auld Reikie than may bless the gowden times, Whan honesty and poortith baith are crimes ; She little kend, when you and I endow'd Our hospitals for back-gaun burghers gude, That e'er our siller or our lands should bring A gude bien living to a back-gaun king, Wha, thanks to ministry ! is grown sae wise, He douna chew the bitter cud of vice ; For gin, frae Castlehill to Netherbow, Wad honest houses baudy-houses grow, The crown wad never spier the price o' sin, Nor hinder younkers to the de'il to rin ; But gif some mortal grien for pious fame, And leave the poor man's pray'r to sain his name, His geer maun a' be scatter'd by the claws 0' ruthless, ravenous, and harpy laws. Yet, shou'd I think, altho' the bill tak place, The council winna lack sae meikle grace As lat our heritage at wanworth gang, Or the succeeding generations wrang 0' braw bien maintenance and walth o' lear, Whilk else had drappit to their children's skair ; For mony a deep, and mony a rare engyne Ha'e sprung frae Herriot's wark, and sprung frae mine, 70 THE GHAISTS. I find, my friend, that ye but little ken, There's einow on the earth a set o' men, Wha, if they get their private pouches lin'd, Gie na a winnelstrae for a' mankind ; They'll sell their country, flae their conscience bare, To gar the weigh- bauk turn a single hair. The government need only bait the line Wi' the prevailing flee, the gowden coin, Then our executors, and wise trustees, Will sell them fishes in forbidden seas, Upo' their dwining country girn in sport, Laugh in their sleeve, and get a place at court. Ere that day come, I'll 'mang our spirits pick Some ghaist that trokes and conjures wi' Auld Nick To gar the wind wi' rougher rumbles blaw, And weightier thuds than ever mortal saw : Fire-naught and hail, wi' tenfald fury's fires, Shall lay yird-laigh Edina's airy spires : Tweed shall rin rowtin' down his banks out o'er, Till Scotland's out o' reach of England's pow'r ; Upo' the briny Borean jaws to float, And mourn in dowy saughs her dowy lot. HERRIOT. Yonder's the tomb of wise Mackenzie 1 fam'd, Whase laws rebellious bigotry reclaim'd, Freed the hail land frae covenanting fools, Wha erst ha'e fash'd us wi' unnumber'd dools ; 1 This is another conspicuous mausoleum in Greyfriars churchyard, — the 'burial place' of Sir George Mackenzie of Rosehaugh, the accom- plished but unscrupulous Lord Advocate in the persecuting reigns of Charles II. and James II. 71 Till night we'll tak the swaird aboon our pows, And than, whan she her ebon chariot rows, We'll travel to the vaut wi' stealing stap, And wauk Mackenzie frae his quiet nap ; Tell him our ails, that he, wi' wonted skill, May fleg the schemers o' the mortmain-bill. LETTERS. TO R[OBERT] FERGUSSON. [These ' Letters,' which have escaped all preceding editors of Fergusson, appeared originally in the ' Perth Magazine of Knowledge and Pleasure' in 1773. The 'Weekly Magazine' of Ruddiman had a wide circulation in Perthshire: but the occasion of the • Letters ' was the appearance in the ' Perth Magazine' of ' The Farmer's Ingle' and others of the poems of Fergusson. ' Andrew Gray ' as well as ' Whistleha ' are as- sumed names. It is understood that 'Andrew' was the wise and facetious Dr. Toshack of Perth, with whom, it is still tra- ditionally remembered among the descendants of that witty son of .ZEsculapius, Fergusson was on terms of intimacy, and on whose death he composed the Epigram given among his English poems, p. 200.] Deed R., I e'en man dip my pen, But how to write I dinna ken ; For learning, I got fint a grain, To tell me how To write to ony gentleman Sic like as you. How blyth am I whan I do see A piece o' your fine poetrie, It gars me laugh fou merrilie, Because there's nane 72 LETTERS. That gies sic great insight to me, As your's itlane. Trouth, Fergusson, I'm verry shier, (Therefore I think I need na spier) That ye dwalt anes abien the mier, For ye do crack The very sam way we do here At Amond back. Ye've English plain enough nae doubt, And Latin too, but ye do suit Your lines, to fock that's out about, 'Mang hills and braes : This is the thing that gars me shout Sae loud your praise. Gin ever ye come hereawa' I hope ye'll be sae gude as ca' For Andrew Gray, at Whistleha', The riddle macker. About a riglength frae Coolsa 1 Just o'er the water. We's treat ye, lad, for doing sae weel, Wi' bannocks o' guid barley meal, And wi' as mony cabbage kail As ye can tak : And twa three chappins o' guid ale, To gar ye crack. 1 Near Perth. ' Rig-length' literally is ' the length of a ridge,' but the measurement, to this day, is arbitrary. It differs considerably, not only in different counties, but in different districts of the same county, and in the same counties at different times. It may in the text be understood as a ' short distance.' I have been unable to localize Coolsa. LETTERS. 73 Whan this ye see, tak up your pen And write word back to me again : And fou you are, mind lat me ken Without delay ; To hear ye 're weel, I'll be right fain : Your's, Andrew Gray. Whistle-ha', June the 1st, 1773. TO ANDEEW GEAY. Nae langer byegane, than the streen, Your couthy letter met my ein : I lang to wag a cutty speen On Amond water; And claw the lips o' truncher tree'n And tak a clatter. " Frae Whistleha' " your muse doth cry ; Whare'er ye win I carena bye : Ye're no the laird o' Whistledry, As lang's ye can Wi' routh o' reekin' kail supply The inward man. You'll trow me billy, kail's fu' geed To synd an' peerify the bleid ; 'Twill rin like ony scarlet reid, While patt ye put on Wi' wethers that round Amond feed, The primest mutton. Ane wad maist think ye'd been at Scoon, Whan kings wure there the Scottish crown ; G 74 LETTERS. A soupler or mair fletching loun, Ne'er hap'd on hurdies, Whan courtier's tongues war' there in tune For oily wordies. Can you nae ither theme divine To blaw upon, but my engyne 1 At Nature keek, she's unco fine Redd up, and braw : An can gie scouth to muses nine At Whistleha'. Her road awhile is rough an' round, An' few poetic gowans found ; The stey braes o' the muses ground We scarce can crawl up ; But on the tap we're light as wind To scour an' gallop. Whan first ye sey'd to mak a riddle, You'd hae an unco fike an' piddle, An' ablins brak aff i' the middle, Like Sanny Butler : l 'Tis ein sae wi' Apollo's fiddle, Before we wit lear. Then flegna at this weary practice, That's tane to get this wyly nack nice ; The eidant muse begins to crack wise, An' ne'er cry dule : It's idle-seat, that banefu' black vice, That gars her cool. 1 In allusion, it is presumed, to the uncompleted but brilliant poem of Hudibras.' LETTERS. Andrew, at . Whistleha', your ein May lippen for me very sien, For barley-scones my grinders grien, They're special eating ; Wi' bizzin cogs that ream abien Our thrapple weeting. Till than may you had hale and fier, That we to Maltman's browst may steer, And ilka care and ilka fear To dog-drive ding ; While cheek for chow we laugh and jeer And crack and sing. R. Fergusson. Edinburgh, June 23d 1773. TO R[OBERT] FERGUSSON. At twall a clock, ae Saturday, Your letter came to Andrew Gray ; But weel a wat I canna' say Nor can I tell ye, How blyth I was a' that hale day, Tho' you sud fell me. The riddles they got leave to stand, To them I wad na pit a hand, Nor wad I split a single wand, For twonty pund ; Nor to the cow, worth, make a band, I was sae fond. Ye say ye lang to wag a speen, Wi' Andrew Gray your couthy frien' ; g2 76 LETTERS. Whilk gard me dance upo' the green, Without a fiddle : Your canty letter was the tien That gard me diddle. But fatfor did ye yon way blaw, An' me sae fine and souple ca' 1 I'm very shier, there's nane ava' 0' yon that's true ; There's nae ane stays i' Whistleha' Can equal you. Ye bade me too, at nature keek ; I wonder that ye yon way speak, Gied fieth it's nae into the breek 0' Andrew Gray : A fouishenless and silly leek, Nae worth a strae. Whan first I sey'd the riddle makin', The splits they aften took a brakin', And mony time pat me frae crackin' ; Yet soon I grew, That I, as clever's eel or maukin, About them flew. But Nature, lad, is nae for me, For her my ein right canna' see, I canna' touch her after thee, Nor s'all I meddle ; Just jog on at the sauchen tree, And mak' a riddle. 0' Whistledry I'm nae the laird, For I o' a' thing am weel saird ; ON SEEING A BUTTERFLY IN THE STREET. 77 And tho' I say't, the fint a shaird, A' here awa', Has ought withint to be compar'd Wi' Whistleha. Whaii ye come up to Whistleha', A good fat wather hame I'll ca', And a' the beastly bleed I'll draw, 'Afore he dee, And gar Meg mak' him ready a' For you and me. Syne to the browster house we'll drive, And drink till we be like to rive, An' gin ye like, lad, we s'all strive Wha's best at singin' ; And keep our spirits a' alive Wi' music ringin'. ! vow ! how happy will we be, Whan ane anither's face we see, I'm vera shier that as for me, I winna ken' Fat end o' me will imost be, I'll be sae fain. Andrew Gray. Whistleha.', Sept. 8th, 1773. ON SEEING A BUTTERFLY IN THE STREET. Daft gowk, in macaroni dress, Are ye come here to shew your face, G 3 78 ON SEEING A BUTTERFLY IN THE STREET. Bowden wi' pride o' simmer gloss, To cast a dash at Reikie's cross ; And glowr at mony twa-legg'd creature, Flees braw by art, tho' worms by nature 1 Like country laird in city deeding, Ye're come to town to lear' good breeding ; To bring ilk darling toast and fashion, In vogue amang the flee creation, That they, like buskit belles and beaus, May crook their mou' fu' sour at those Whase weird is still to creep, alas ! Unnotic'd 'mang the humble grass ; While you, wi' wings new buskit trim, Can far frae yird and reptiles skim ; Newfangle grown wi' new got form, You soar aboon your mither worm. Kind Nature lent but for a day Her wings to make ye sprush and gay ; In her habuliments a while Ye may your former sel' beguile, And ding awa' the vexing thought Of hourly d wining into nought, By beenging to your foppish brithers, Black corbies dress'd in peacocks feathers ; l Like thee they dander here an' there, Whan simmer's blinks are warm an' fair, An' loo to snuff the healthy balm Whan ev'nin' spreads her wing sae calm ; But whan she girns an' glowrs sae dowr Frae Borean houff in angry show'r, Like thee they scoug frae street or field, An' hap them in a lyther bield ; 1 The fable of the ' Crow and the borrowed feathers. ON SEEING A BUTTERFLY IN THE STREET. 79 For they war' never made to dree The adverse gloom o' Fortune's eie, Nor ever pried life's pining woes, Nor pu'd the prickles wi' the rose. Poor butterfly ! thy case I mourn, To green kail-yeard and fruits return : How cou'd you troke the mavis' note For " penny pies all-piping hot ? " Can lintie's music be compar'd Wi' gruntles frae the City -guard 1 2 Or can our flow'rs at ten hours bell The gowan or the spink excel. Now shou'd our sclates wi' hailstanes ring, What cabbage fald wad screen your wing 1 Say, fluttering fairy ! wer't thy hap To light beneath braw Nany's cap, Wad she, proud butterfly of May ! In pity lat you skaithless stay : The furies glancing frae her ein Wad rug your wings o' siller sheen, That, wae for thee ! far, far outvy Her Paris artist's finest dye ; Then a' your bonny spraings wad fall, An' you a worm be left to crawl. To sic mishanter rins the laird Wha quats his ha'-house an' kail-yard, Grows politician, scours to court, Whare he's the laughing-stock and sport Of Ministers, wha jeer an' jibe, And heeze his hopes wi' thought o' bribe, Till in the end they flae him bare, Leave him to poortith, and to care, 1 See p. 6, Note 2. 80 HAME CONTENT. Their fleetching words o'er late he sees, He trudges hame, repines and dies. Sic be their fa' wha dirk thir ben In blackest business no their ain ; And may thej scad their lips fu' leal, That dip their spoons in ither's kail. HAME CONTENT.— A SATIRE. TO ALL WHOM IT MAY CONCERN. Some fock, like bees, fu' glegly rin To bykes bang'd fu' o' strife and din, And thieve and huddle crumb by crumb, Till they have scrapt the dautit plumb, 1 Then craw fell crously o' their wark. Tell o'er their turners mark by mark, Yet darna think to lowse the pose, To aid their neighbours ails and woes. Gif gowd can fetter thus the heart, And gar us act sae base a part, Shall man, a niggard near-gawn elf ! Rin to the tether's end for pelf; Learn ilka cunzied scoundrel's trick, Whan a's done sell his saul to Nick : I trow they've coft the purchase dear, That gang sic lengths for warldly gear. Now whan the Dog-day 2 heats begin To birsel and to peel the skin, 1 Content ! said one, then star'd and bit his thumb, And leering ask'd if I was worth a plumb ?— Ramsay : Content. A Plumb is £100,000. 2 The days in which the dog-star rises and sets" with the sun. HAME CONTENT. 81 May I lie streekit at my ease, Beneath the caller shady trees, (Far frae the din o' Borrowstown,) Whar water plays the haughs bedown, To jouk the simmer's rigor there, And breath a while the caller air 'Mang herds an' honest cottar fock, That till the farm and feed the flock ; Careless o' mair, wha never fash To lade their kist wi' useless cash, But thank the gods for what they've sent 0' health enough, and blyth content, An' pith, that helps them to stravaig Owr ilka cleugh and ilka craig, Unkend to a' the weary granes That aft arise frae gentler banes, On easy-chair that pamper'd lie, Wi' banefu' viands gustit high, And turn and fald their weary clay, To rax and gaunt the live-lang day. Ye sages, tell, was man e'er made To dree this hatefu' sluggard trade 1 Steekit frae Nature's beauties a' That daily on his presence ca' ; At hame to girn, and whinge, and pine For fav'rite dishes, fav'rite wine : Come then, shake off thir sluggish ties, An' wi' the bird o' dawning rise ; On ilka bauk the clouds hae spread Wi' blobs o' dew a pearly bed ; Frae faulds nae mair the owsen rout, But to the fatt'ning clover lout, Whare they may feed at heart's content, Unyokit frae their winter's stent. 82 HAME CONTENT. Unyoke then, man, an' binna sweer To ding a hole in ill-haind gear : think that eild, wi' wyly fitt, Is wearing nearer bit by bit ; Gin yence he claws you wi' his paw, What's siller for ? Fiend haet ava, But gowden playfair, that may please The second sharger till he dies. Some daft chiel reads, and taks advice ; The chaise is yokit in a trice ; Awa drives he like huntit de'il, And scarce tholes time to cool his wheel, Till he's lord kens how far awa, At Italy, or Well o' Spa', Or to Montpelier's safter air ; For far aff fowls hae feathers fair. There rest him weel ; for eith can we Spare mony glakit gouks like he ; They'll tell whare Tibur's waters rise ; What sea receives the drumly prize, That never wi' their feet hae mett The marches o' their .ain estate. The Arno and the Tibur lang Hae run fell clear in Roman sang ; But, save the reverence of schools ! They're baith but lifeless dowy pools, Dought they compare wi' bonny Tweed, As clear as ony lammer-bead ? Or are their shores mair sweet and gay Than Fortha's haughs or banks o' Tay 1 1 Tho' there the herds can jink the show'rs 'Mang thriving vines an' myrtle bow'rs, 1 It is recorded of the Romans that when the verdant valley of the Tay first burst upon them, from the Hill of Moncrieff, they cried out, " Lo: another Tiber ! See a second Martian plain !" HAME CONTEXT. 83 And blaw the reed to kittle strains, While echo's tongue commends their pains; Like ours, they canna warm the heart Wi' simple, saft, bewitching art. On Leader haughs an' Yarrow braes, Arcadian herds wad tyne their lays, To hear the mair melodious sounds That live on our poetic grounds. Come, Fancy ! come, and let us tread The simmer's flow'ry velvet bed, And a' your springs delightfu' lowse On Tweeda's banks or Cowdenknows, That, ta'en wi' thy inchanting sang, Our Scottish lads may round ye thrang, Sae pleas'd, they'll never fash again To court you on Italian plain ; Soon will they guess ye only wear The simple garb o' Kature here ; Mair comely far, an' fair to sight Whan in her easy cleething dight, Than in disguise ye was before On Tibur's, or on Arno's shore. Bangour ! - 1 now the hills and dales Nae mair gi'e back thy tender tales ! The birks on Yarrow now deplore Thy mournfu' muse has left the shore : Near what bright burn or chrystal spring Did you your winsome whistle hing ? 1 William Hamilton of Bangour, the author of the very touching ballad of the 'Braes of Yarrow' and various songs and poems dis- tinguished by refined taste and tenderness. — A very beautiful and care fully prepared edition of Hamilton has been recently published by Mr. Thomas G. Stevenson, of Edinburgh. He died at Lyons 1754, but was brought over and interred in Holyrood. He must not be confounded, as has been done by Alexander Campbell and others, with Hamilton of Gilbertfield, a very different and much more vigorous writer. Both of the Hamiltons were the contemporaries and friends of Allan Ramsay. 84 LEITH RACES. The muse shall there, wi' wat'ry eie, Gi'e the dunk swaird a tear for thee ; And Yarrow's genius, dowy dame ! Shall there forget her blude-stain'd stream, On thy sad grave to seek repose, Wha mourn'd her fate, condol'd her woes. LEITH RACES. 1 In July month, ae bonny morn, 2 Whan Nature's rokelay green Was spread o'er ilka rigg o' corn, To charm our roving een ; Glouring about I saw a quean, The fairest 'neath the lift ; Her een ware o" the siller sheen, Her skin like snawy drift, Sae white that day. Quod she, " I ferly unco sair, " That ye sud musand gae, " Ye wha hae sung o' Hallow-fair, " Her winter's pranks and play : 1 There is a poem under the same title by George Bruce (Poems and Songs, pp. 105 — 115. 1 vol. 8vo. 1811), and likewise another by Vedder, in illustration of Greikie's etchings of ' Leith Races/ No. L. He says mo- destly of Fergusson, "To eke a verse to thy sweet croon, Made me lang halt and swither." But he need not have ' swithered,' for verily if the Doric reed has fallen to the lot of any one, with anything of a Burns' levin-power — without however his pathos and felicity of expression, which are the dower liberally of James Ballantyne — it has assuredly to the right-hearted David Vedder. His ' Leith Races ' supplies various scenes omitted by Fergusson, and merits attention, although, as in Major Weir, Westport, there is deficient vigour. 2 See Life prefixed and remarks. LEITH RACES. 85 " Whan on Leith-Sands the racers rare, " Wi' Jocky louns are met, " Their orrow pennies there to ware, " And drown themsel's in debt " Fu' deep that day.' 1 And wha are ye, my winsome dear, That takes the gate sae early ? Whare do ye win, gin ane may spier, For I right meikle ferly, That sic braw buskit laughing lass Thir bonny blinks shou'd gi'e, An' loup like Hebe o'er the grass, As wanton and as free, Frae dule this day. " I dwall amang the caller springs " That weet the Land o' Cakes, " And aften tune my canty strings " At bridals and late-wakes : " They ca' me Mirth ; I ne'er was kend " To grumble or look sour, " But blyth wad be a lift to lend, " Gif ye wad sey my pow'r " An' pith this day." A bargain be't, and, by my feggs, Gif ye will be my mate, Wi' you I'll screw the cheery pegs, Ye shanna find me blate ; We'll reel an' ramble thro' the sands, And jeer wi' a' we meet ; 86 LEITH RACES. Nor hip the daft and gleesome bands That fill Edina's street Sae thrang this day. * 1 These opening stanzas have been greatly admired : and it is very apparent that Burns took them for his model in the ' Holy Fair.' An imaginary being, whom he names ' Fun, ' conducts him, as is well known, to the scene of that extraordinary satire, exactly as Mirth conducts our poet to the ' Races.' For our part, in this instance, we must give the palm to the elder bard, who, we think, except perhaps in the initial stanza of the 'Holy Fair,' is not at all 'far distanced' in the poetical painting, as has been affirmed. The Rev. James Nicol of Traquair, in his poem of the ' Kern-Supper,' has likewise taken Fergusson for his model- As he is less known, the opening stanzas may not be unacceptable : — * * Forth I wauk'd, an' pensive, eyed A' nature dull an' dwinin' ; 'Till skelpin owre the brae I spied A Quean wi' glorie shinin' ; Her face shaw'd beautie's brightest pride, Averse to sad repinin' ; Her wavin' ringlets strave to hide Twa dimplin cheeks, inclinin To fun that day! As forat cam' the bloomin maid, Nor stern, nor yet affrighten'd ; Before her care and sorrow fled, Her smiles the passions brighten'd ; Round her the Loves an' Graces play'd, An' a' her beauties highten'd ; Her looks a keen, firm soul display'd ; Her sparklin een enlighten'd The scene that day ! A flowrie chaplet bound her head, Fresh frae the hand o' nature, Whase glowin' colours, white an' red, Set aff ilk lovelie feature ; Around her fiow'd a tartan plaid, The rainbow's dyes nae better ; Grace was in ilka step she made, Proportion in her stature An' shape that day 1 Sae, in mild, simple beautie drest, I've seen my Nancy comin' To make the hour completelie blest, Wi' pleasure past a' summin'. — Wi' smilin' face I forat prest, Her breath the air perfumin', LEITH BACES. 87 Ere servant maids had wont to rise To seeth the breakfast kettle, Ilk dame her brawest ribbons tries, To put her on her mettle, Wi' wiles some silly chiel to trap, (And troth he's fain to get her,) Bat she'll craw kniefly in his crap, Whan, wow ! he canna flit her Frae hame that day. Now, mony a scaw'd and bare-ars'd lown Rise early to their wark, Enough to fiey a muckle town, Wi' dinsome squeel and bark. " Here is the true an' faithfu' list " 0' Noblemen and Horses ; " Their eild, their weight, their height, their grist, " That rin for Plates or Purses Fu' fleet this day." An' catch'd her in my arms, an' kiss'd Her lips, like roses bloomin' An' sweet that day ! Howt ! let a be ! she smilin' says ; Tak' me for an adviser ; Te've aft been warn'd against sic ways, But never hae grown wiser. Whan passion a' her charms displays, Learn bravelie to despise her. — Xow the Kern-Supper claims your lays, Where monie funnie ploys were Beath night air day : Beauty, quo I, need never fear That I her suit refuse. — But what's your name ? I tain would spier. — Quo she, your youthfu' Muse : I'm come your pensive wauks to cheer, Gif ye'll my service use. — 'Tis doon, quo I, my bonnie dear! I'm yours — gif you'll excuse My fauts this day ! Poems, Vol. I., pp. 138—141. H2 88 LEITH RACES. To whisky plooks that brunt for wooks On town-guard soldiers' faces, Their barber bauld his whittle crooks, An' scrapes them for the races : Their stumps erst us'd to filipegs, Are dight in spaterdashes Whase barkent hides scarce fend their legs Frae weet and weary plashes 0' dirt that day. " Come, hafe a care (the captain cries), " On guns your bagnets thraw ; " Now mind your manual exercise, " An' marsh down raw by raw." And as they march he'll glowr about, Tent a' their cuts and scars : 'Mang them fell mony a gausy snout Has gusht in birth-day wars, Wi' blude that day. Her nanesel maun be carefu' now, Nor maun she pe misleard, Sin baxter lads hae seal'd a vow To skelp and clout the guard j 1 I'm sure Auld Reikie kens o' nane That wou'd be sorry at it, Tho' they should dearly pay the kane, An' get their tails weel sautit And sair thir days. The tinkler billies i' the Bow 2 Are now less eidant clinking, 1 Note 2, p. 6. " A skirmish," says Scott, " with these veterans was a favourite recreation with the rabble of Edinburgh.' 1 2 The Westbow street, then occupied principally by tinsmiths or ' tink- LEITH RACES. As lang's their pith or siller dow, They're daffin', and they're drinking. Bedown Leith Walk what burrochs reel Of ilka trade and station, That gar their wives an' childer feel Toom weyms for their libation 0' drink thir days. The browster wives thegither harl A' trash that they can fa' on ; They rake the grounds o' ilka barrel, To profit by the la wen : For weel wat they a skin leal het For drinking needs nae hire ; At drumbly gear they take nae pet ; Foul water slockens fire And drouth thir days. They say, ill ale has been the deid 0' mony a beirdly lown ; Then dinna gape like gleds wi' greed To sweel hail bickers down : Gin Lord send mony ane the morn, They'll ban fu' sair the time That e'er they toutit aff the horn Which wambles thro' their weym Wi' pain that day. The Buchan bodies thro' the beech Their bunch of Findrums cry, An' skirl out haul', in Norland speech, " Gueed speldings, fa will buy." ters,' concerning whom let me ask all readers to consult that mine of curious Scotic memorials, Mi-. Daniel Wilson's • Edinburgh in the Olden Time.' 2 vols. 4to. h3 90 LEITH RACES. An', by my saul, they're nae wrang gear To gust a stirrah's mow ; Weel staw'd wi' them, he'll never spear The price of being fu' Wi' drink that day. Now wyly wights at rowly powl, 1 An' flingin' o' the dice, Here brake the banes o' mony a soul, Wi' fa's upo' the ice : At first the gate seems fair an' straught, So they had fairly till her ; But wow ! in spite o' a' their maught, They're rookit o' their siller An' goud that day. Around whare'er ye fling your een, The haiks like wind are scourin' ; Some chaises honest folk contain, An' some hae mony a whore in ; Wi' rose and lily, red and white, They gie themselves sic fit airs, Like Dian, they will seem perfite ; But its nae goud that glitters Wi' them thir days. 1 The game otherwise called ' Ninepins,' which forms the subject of one of Geikie's admirable etchings, No. 58, and which, along with Nos. 62 and 63, ' Leith Races,' well illustrates the present poem. Vedder graphically describes a hero engaged in the game : A burly loon, wi' sweeping straikes, Is thrang at rowly powly, Clearing a buird o' gingbread cakes Frae a wee dindy cowly. lie rattles till the grund a' shakes, (He's seen by his sweet Molly :) What tho' his pouch be cleared o' maiks, Fools maun pay for their folly On sic a day. Leith Races. Geikie, p. 42. LEITH RACES. 01 The lyon here, wi' open paw, May cleek in mony hunder, Wha geek at Scotland and her law, His wyly talons under ; For ken, tho' Jamie's laws are auld, (Thanks to the wise recorder), His lyon yet roars loud and bauld, To had the Whigs in order Sae prime this day. To town-guard drum of clangor clear, Baith men and steeds are raingit ; Some liveries red or yellow wear, And some are tartan spraingit : And now the red, the blue e'en-now Bids fairest for the market ; But, 'ere the sport be done, I trow Their skins are gayly yarkit And peel'd thir days. Siclike in Robinhood 1 debates, Whan twa chiels hae a pingle ; E'en-now some couli 2 gets his aits, An' dirt wi' words they mingle, Till up loups he, wi' diction fu', There's lang and dreech contesting ; For now they're near the point in view Now ten miles frae the question In hand that night. The races o'er, they hale the dools, Wi' drink o' a' kin-kind ; 1 See note 3, p. 49. 2 A collegian [student], a member of the University. — Communicated by Mr. Robert Burns, Secundus. Spoken usually of any one in contempt. 92 HALLOWFAIR. Great feck gae hirpling hame like fools, The cripple lead. the blind. May ne'er the canker o' the drink E'er make our spirits thrawart, 'Case we git wharewitha' to wink Wi' een as blue's a blawart Wi' straiks thir days ! HALLO WFAIR. Tune— " Fy let us a' to the Bridal" [This humorous ballad-song, like the ' Lea-rig,' had long been fugitively ascribed to Fergusson, when Mr. Stenhouse, in his Notes to Johnson's Scots Musical Museum, 451, p. 472 sq. Note, p. 399 sq. Vol. V., assigned it positively to him, on the authority (it is understood) of Mr. David Herd, who only died in 1810. It was originally written for Mr. Herd, and was published posthumously in the well-known Collection of ' Ancient and Modern Scottish Songs, Heroic Ballads, etc' 2 Vols. 12mo, 1776. Vol. n. p. 169—171. Hallowfair is adapted in the Museum to an old tune called ' Wally Honey,' taken from Oswald's Caledonian Pocket Com- panion. Book VII. p. 6. The reader may compare the ' Song' with the ' Poem ' of Hallowfair (ante, p. 33 sq.)] There's fouth of braw Jockies and Jennies Comes weel-busked into the fair, With ribbons on their cockernonies, And fouth o' fine flour on their hair. 1 Maggie she was sae well busked, That Willie was ty'd to his bride ; The pounie was ne'er better whisked Wi' cudgel that hang frae his side. Sing farrel, &c. 1 Which was then in fashion. I HAIXOWFAIR. 93 But Maggie was wondrous jealous To see Willie busked sae braw ; And Sawney he sat in the alehouse, And hard at the liquor did caw. There was Geordy that well loo'd his lassie, He touk the pint-stoup in his arms, And hugg'd it, and said, trouth they're saucy That loos nae a good father's bairn. Sing farrel, &c. There was Wattie the muirland laddie, That rides on the bonny grey cout, With sword by his side like a cadie, * To drive in the sheep and the knout. His doublet sae weel it did fit him, It scarcely came down to mid thigh, With hair pouther'd, hatt, and a feather, And housing at courpon and tee. 2 Sing farrel, &c. But bruckie play'd boo to bausie, 3 And aff scour'd the cout like the win : Poor Wattie he fell in the causie, And birs'd a' the bains in his skin. His pistols fell out of the houlsters, And were a' bedaubed with dirt ; The folks they came round him in clusters, Some leugh, and cry'd, Lad was you hurt ? Sing farrel, &c. 1 One who gains a livelihood by running errands. — See Jamieson m loc. 2 The horse-furniture at the crupper and the nose and head. 3 Id est — The brucket or cow with brown spots bellowed to bausio, which is applied to a fat sleek animal— the noise they made, frightened tbe cout or horse. 94 HALLOWFAIR. But cout wad let nae body steer him, He was ay sae wanton and skeegh ; The packman's stands he o'erturn'd them, And gar'd a' the Jocks stand a-beech ; Wi' sniring behind and before him, For sic is the metal of brutes : Poor Wattie, and wae's me for him, Was fain to gang hame in his boots. Sing farrel, f.v.l ■■ hungry husk '." Perth Mapazint. ToL vi pp. 51. 52 : October Sth. 1773, K2 112 A DRINK ECLOGUE- A DRINK ECLOGUE. LANDLADY, BRANDY AND WHISKY. On auld worm-eaten skelf, in cellar dunk, Whare hearty benders syn'd their drouthy trunk, Twa chappin bottles, pang'd wi' liquor fu', Brandy the tane, the tither Whisky blue, Grew canker'd ; for the twa ware het within, An' het-skin'd fock to flyting soon begin ; The Frenchman fizz'd, and first wad foot the field, While paughty Scotsman scorn'd to beenge or yield. Black be your fa ! ye cottar loun mislear'd, Blawn by the porters, chairman, city-guard ; l Ha'e ye nae breeding, that you cock 2 your nose Anent my sweetly gusted cordial dose. I've been near pauky courts, and aften there Ha'e ca'd hystericks frae the dowy fair ; And courtiers aft gaed greening for my smack, To gar them bauldly glour, and gashly crack. The priest, to bang mishaunters black, and cares> Has sought me in his closet for his prayers. What tig then takes the fates, that they can thole, Thrawart to fix me in this weary hole, Sair fash'd wi' din, wi' darkness, and-wi' stinks, Whare cheery day-light thro' the mirk ne'er blinks. WHISKY. But ye maun be content, and mauna rue, Tho' erst ye've bizz'd in bonny madam's mou' ; 1 See p. 6, Note 2. 2 Var. shaw. A DRIXK ECLOGUE. 113 Wi' thoughts like thae your heart may sairly dunt ; The warld's now chang'd, it's no like use and wont ; For here, wae's me ! there's nouther lord nor laird Come to get heartscad frae their stamack skair'd : Nae mair your courtier louns will shaw their face, For they glowr eiry at a friend's disgrace : But heeze your heart up — Whan at court you hear The patriot's thrapple wat wi' reaming beer; Whan chairman, weary wi' his daily gain, Can syn his whistle wi' the clear champaign ; Be hopefu', for the time will soon row round, Whan you'll nae langer dwall beneath the ground. BRANDY. Wanwordy gowk ! did I sae aften shine Wi' gowden glister thro' the chrystal fine, To thole your taunts, that seenil hae been seen A wa frae luggie, quegh, or truncher treein ; Gif honour wad but lat, a challenge shou'd Twin ye o' Highland tongue and Highland blude ; Wi' cairds like thee I scorn to file my thumb, For gentle spirits gentle breeding doom. Truly I think it right you get your alms, Your high heart humbled amang common drams ; Braw days for you, whan fools newfangle fain, Like ither countries better than their ain, For there ye never saw sic chancy days, Sic balls, assemblies, operas, or plays : Hame-o'er langsyne you ha'e been blyth to pack Your a' upon a sarkless soldier's back ; For you thir lads, as weel-lear'd trav'lers tell, Hae sell'd their sarks, gin sarks they'd had to sell, k3 114 A DRINK ECLOGUE. But worth gets poortith an' black burning shame, To draunt and drivel out a life at hame. Alake ! the byword's o'er weel kend throughout, " Prophets at hame are held in nae repute;" Sae fair'st wi' me, tho' I can heat the skin, And set the saul upon a merry pin, Yet I am hameil, there's the sour mischance ! I'm no frae Turkey, Italy, or France ; For now our gentles' gabbs are grown sae nice, At thee they toot, an' never speer my price : Witness — for thee they hight their tenants' rent, And fill their lands wi' poortith, discontent ; Gar them o'er seas for cheaper mailins hunt, An' leave their ain as bare's the Cairn-o'-mount. BRANDT. Tho' lairds take toothfu's o' my warming sap, This dwines nor tenants' gear, nor cows their crap : For love to you, there's mony a tenant gaes Bare-ars'd and barefoot o'er the Highland braes : For you nae mair the thrifty gudewife sees Her lasses kirn, or birze the dainty cheese ; Crummie nae mair for Jenny's hand will crune Wi' milkness dreeping frae her teats adown : For you o'er ear the ox his fate partakes, And fa's a victim to the bludey aix. Wha is't that gars the greedy Bankers prieve The maiden's tocher, but the maiden's leave : By you when spulzied o' her charming pose, She tholes in turn the taunt o' cauldrife joes ; Wi' skelps like this fock sit but seenil down To wether-gammond or how-towdy brown ; A DRINK ECLOGUE. 115 Sair dung wi' dule, and fley'd for coming debt, They gar their mou'-bits wi' their incomes mett, Content eneugh gif they ha'e wherewithal Scrimply to tack their body and their saul. BRANDY. Frae some poor poet, o'er as poor a pot, Ye've lear'd to crack sae crouse, ye haveril Scot ! Or burgher politician, that embrues His tongue in thee, and reads the claiking news ; But waes heart for you ! that for ay maun dwell In poet's garret, or in chairman's cell, While I shall yet on bien-clad tables stand, Bouden wi' a' the daintiths o' the land. Troth I ha'e been 'ere now the poet's flame, And heez'd his sangs to mony blythsome theme. Wha was't gar'd Allie's l chaunter chirm fu' clear, Life to the saul, and music to the ear : Nae stream but kens, and can repeat the lay To shepherds streekit on the simmer brae, Wha to their whistle wi' the lav'rock bang, To wauken flocks the rural fields araang. BRANDY. But here's the brouster-wife, and she can tell Wha's win the day, and wha shou'd wear the bell ; Ha'e done your din, an' lat her judgment join In final verdict 'twixt your pley and mine. 1 Allan Ramsay. 2 See Additional Notes and Illustrations to Scottish Poems, F. 116 AN ECLOGUE. LANDLADY. In. days o' yore I cou'd my living prize, Nor faush'd wi' dolefu' gaugers or excise ; But now-a-days we're blyth to lear the thrift Our heads 'boon licence and excise to lift : Inlakes o' brandy we can soon supply By whisky tinctur'd wi' the saffron's dye. Will you your breeding threep, ye mongrel loun ! Frae hame-bred liquor dy'd to colour brown 1 So flunky braw, whan drest in master's claise, Struts to Auld Reikie's cross on sunny days, Till some auld comerade, ablins out o' place, Near the vain upstart shaws his meagre face ; Bumbaz'd he loups frae sight, and jooks his ken, Fley'd to be seen amang the tassel'd train. AN ECLOGUE. 'Twas e'ening whan the spreckled gowdspink sang, Whan new fa'an dew in blobs o' chrystal hang ; Than Will and Sandie thought they'd wrought eneugh, And loos'd their sair toil'd owsen frae the pleugh : Before they ca'd their cattle to the town, 1 The lads to draw thir breath e'en sat them down ; To the stiff sturdy aik they lean'd their backs, While honest Sandie thus began the cracks. Yence I could hear the laverock's shrill-tun'd throat, And listen to the clattering gowdspink's note ; Yence I cou'd whistle cantilly as they, To owsen, as they till'd my raggit clay ; 1 The farmhouse, the steading. AN ECLOGUE. 117 But now I wou'd as leive maist lend my lugs To tuneless puddocks croakin i' the boggs ; I sigh at hame, a-field am dowie too, To sowf a tune, I'll never crook my mou. Foul fa me gif your bridal had na been Nae langer bygane than sin Hallow-e'en, I cou'd hae tell'd you but a warlock's art, That some daft lightlyin quean had stow'n your heart ; Our beasties here will take their e'ening pluck, An' now sin Jock's gane hame the byres to muck, Fain wou'd I houp my friend will be inclin'd To gie me a' the secrets o' his mind : Heh ! Sandie, lad, what dool's come owr ye now, That you to whistle ne'er will crook your mou. Ah ! Willie, Willie, I may date my wae, Frae what beted me on my bridal day ; Sair may I rue the hour in which our hands Were knit thegither in the haly bands ; Sin that I thrave sae ill, in troth I fancy, Some fiend or fairy, nae sae very chancy, Has driven me by pauky wiles uncommon, To wed this flyting fury of a woman. Ah ! Sandie, aften hae I heard you tell, Amang the lasses a' she bure the bell ; And say, the modest glances o' her ein Far dang the brightest beauties o' the green ; You ca'd her ay sae innocent, sae young, I thought she keut na how to use her tongue. 118 AN ECLOGUE. Before I married her, I'll take my aith, Her tongue was never louder than her breath ; But now its turn'd sae souple and sae bauld, That Job himself cou'd scarcely thole the scauld. Lat her yelp on, be you as calm's a mouse, Nor lat your whisht be heard into the house ; Do what she can, or be as loud's she please, Ne'er mind her flytes but set your heart at ease, Sit down and blaw your pipe, nor faush your thumb, An' there's my hand she'll tire, and soon sing dumb ; Sooner shou'd winter cald confine the sea, An' lat the sma'est o' our burns rin free ; Sooner at Yule- day shall the birk be drest, Or birds in sapless busses big their nest, Before a tonguey woman's noisy plea Shou'd ever be a cause to dantan me. SANDIE. Weel cou'd I this abide, but oh ! I fear I'll soon be twin'd o' a' my warldly gear ; My kirnstaff now stands gizzand at the door, My cheese-rack toom that ne'er was toom before ; My ky may now rin rowting to the hill, And on the nakit yird their milkness spill ; She seenil lays her hand upon a turn, Neglects the kebbuck, and forgets the kirn ; I vow my hair-mould milk would poison dogs, As it stands lapper'd in the dirty cogs. Before the seed I sell'd my ferra cow, An' wi' the profit coft a stane o' woo' : AK ECLOGUE. 11 I thought, by priggin, that she might hae spun A plaidie, light, to screen me frae the sun ; But though the siller's scant, the cleedin dear, She has na ca'd about a wheel the year. Last ouk but ane I was frae hame a day. Buying a threave or twa o' bedding strae : 0' ilka thing the woman had her will, Had fouth o' meal to bake, and hens to kill ; But hyn awa' to Edinbrough scoured she To get a making o' her fav'rite tea ; T And 'cause I left her not the weary clink, She sell't the very trunchers frae my bink. Her tea ! ah ! wae betide sic costly gear, Or them that ever wad the price o't spear. Sin my auld gutcher first the warld knew, Fouk had na fund the Indies, whare it grew. I mind my sell, its nae sae lang sin syne, Whan Auntie Marion did her stamack tyne, That Davs our gardener came frae Apple-bogg, An' gae her tea to tak by way o' drog. BAJffDIB. Whan ilka herd for cauld his fingers rubbs, An' cakes o' ice are seen upo' the dubbs ; At morning, whan frae pleugh or fauld I come, I'll see a braw reek rising frae my lum, An' ablins think to get a rantin blaze To fley the frost awa' an' toast my taes ; But whan I shoot my nose in. ten to ane If I weelfardly see my ane hearthstane ; 1 See note prefixed to poem on ' Tea.' 120 VERSES ON VISITING DUMFRIES. She round the ingle with her gimmers sits, Crammin their gabbies wi' her nicest bits, While the gudeman out-by maun fill his crap Frae the milk coggie, or the parritch cap. Sandie, gif this were ony common plea, I shou'd the lealest o' my counsel gie ; But mak or meddle betwixt man and wife, Is what I never did in a' my life. It's wearin on now to the tail o' May, An' just between the bear seed and the hay ; As lang's an orrow morning may be spar'd, Stap your wa's east the haugh, an' tell the laird ; For he 's a man weel vers'd in a' the laws, Kens baith their outs and ins, their cracks and flaws, An' ay right gleg, whan things are out o' joint, At sattlin o' a nice or kittle point. But yonder's Jock, 1 he'll ca' your owsen hame, And tak thir tidings to your thrawart dame, That ye're awa' ae peacefu' meal to prie, And take your supper kail or sowens wi' me. VERSES ON VISITING DUMFRIES. [The visit which occasioned the present sprightly verses was paid in 1773. The poet was accompanied by a Lieu- tenant Wilson, R. N. The two friends had walked all the way from the Capital to renew their acquaintance with Charles Salmon, a fellow poet, who had left Edinburgh to pursue the business of a printer with Mr. Jackson, the spirited publisher of the Dumfries Weekly Magazine. Proud of his visitor, Sal- mon introduced the poet to his numerous admirers in Dum- 1 See Additional Notes and Illustrations to Scottish Poems G. VERSES ON VISITING DUMFRIES. 121 fries : and Fergusson was treated with the most flattering and over-kind distinction. In the hour of parting, being pressed to leave some memorial of his Nithsdale ' visit/ he wrote on the instant the present ' verses.' They were, so far as I have been able to trace, first published in the Life of Fergusson in the ' Lives of the Scottish Poets,' 3 vols. 12mo. London, 1822. Vol. 2d, Part IV. pp. 76—77, having been supplied to the editor by Mayne the author of the £ Siller Gun ' and other excellent Doric poems. Mayne took them down at the time : and he always remembered with pleasure his ' meeting ' with Fergusson, to whom in his ' Poems ' he never loses an opportunity of paying a compliment.] The gods, sure, in some canny hour, To bonny Nith ha'e ta'en a tour, Where bonny blinks the cawler flow'r, Beside the stream ; And, sportive, there ha'e shawn their pow'r In fairy dream ! Had Kirkhill 1 here but kent the gaet, The beauties on Dumfries that wait, He'd never turn'd his canker'd pate, 0' satire keen, When ilka thing's sae trig and feat To please the een. I ken, the stirrah loo'd fu' weel Amang the drinking loons to reel ; On claret brown or porter sweel, Whilk he cou'd get ; After a shank o' beef he'd peel, His craig to whet. 1 Churchill the satirist. Churchill fell in with what has been call- ed the national ill-humour against the Scotch which arose out of the political occurrences of the commencement of the reign of George III. His ' Prophecy of Famine,' a Scotch pastoral, is a most acrimonious, yet withal vigorous caricature of Scottish disadvantages. L 122 VERSES ON VISITING DUMFEIES. Marshals and Bushbys 2 then had fund Some kitchen gude to lay the grund, And Cheshire mites wi' skill to hund, And fley awa' The heart-scad, and a scud o' wund Frae stamack raw ! Had Horace liv'd, that pleasant sinner, Wha lov'd gude wine to synd his dinner, His muse, though dowf, the deil be in her, Wi' blithest sang, The drink wad round Parnassus rin her Ere it were lang ! Nae mair he'd sung to auld Mecaenas The blinking een o' bonny Venus ; His leave at ance he wud ha'e ta'en us For claret here, Which Jove and a' his gods still rain us Frae year to year ! ! Jove, man ! gie's some orro pence, Mair siller, and a wee mair sense. I'd big to you a rural spence, And bide a' simmer ; And cauld frae saul and body fence Wi' frequent brimmer! 1 The chief innkeepers in Dumfries. The descendants of the latter form the burden of several of Burns's stinging Epigrams. TO MY AULD BREEKS. 121 TO MY AULD BREEKS. [This poem was the last Scottish piece of Fergusson's which appeared in the 'Magazine:' and only his 'Last Will' and ' Codicil ' followed. He was very soon missed in the ' poet's corner,' as appears from a Postscript to a communication in the Magazine, dated Lanark, February 7th, 1773. It is as fol- lows : ' Pray is your agreeable poet E. F. quite sunk, or dead in law ? A lady told me, if he is to write any more, she would handsomely subscribe, that he might not want a pair of newbreeks.' 1 "Handsomely subscribe!" What said Robert Burns ? " My curse upon your whunstane hearts, Ye E'nbrugh gentry ! The tythe o' what ye waste at cartes Wad stow'd his pantry !" a ; Now gae your wa's — Tho' anes as gude As ever happit flesh and blude, Yet part we maun — The case sae hard is, Amang the writers and the bardies, That lang they'll brook the auld I trow, Or neibours cry, " Weel brook the new ;" Still making tight wi' tither steek, The tither hole, the tither eik, 3 1 Weekly Magazine, Vol. xxiii. p. 272. 2 Burns's Epistle to William Simpson 1785. 3 The Rev. James Nicol, already quoted, in an ' Address to Poverty' very forcibly fills up this picture. He personifies Poverty, and addresses him thus : I see thee, shiverin', wrinklet, auld, Cour owre a spunk that dies wi' cauld, Thy claise a' patch'd, a hunder-fauld ; Yet thro' the clouts Thy knees an 5 elbows, lookin bauld The storm salutes ! Wi' ae-e'ed specks, an' that e'e crackit, To darn thy hose thou hast the knack o't ; Now, steek on steek, they're gailie tackit ; But here's the warst o't, Whan by thy mouldie swall'd heels rackit, Again they'll burst out. Vol. I. p. 48 sq. L2 124 TO MY AULD BREEKS. To bang the birr o' winter's anger. And had the hurdies out o' langer. Sicklike some weary wight will fill His kyte wi' drogs frae doctor's bill, Thinking to tack the tither year To life, and look baith haill an' fier, Till at the lang-run death dirks in, To birze his saul ayont his skin. You needna wag your duds o' clouts, Nor fa' into your dorty pouts, To think that erst you've hain'd my tail Frae wind and weet, frae snaw and hail, And for reward, whan bald and hummil, Frae garret high to dree a tumble. For you I car'd, as lang's ye dow'd Be lin'd wi' siller or wi' gowd : Now to befriend, it wad be folly, Your raggit hide an' pouches holey ; For wha but kens a poet's placks Get mony weary flaws an' cracks, And canna thole to hae them tint, As he sae seenil sees the mint ? Yet round the warld keek and see, That ithers fare as ill as thee ; For weel we lo'e the chiel we think Can get us tick, or gie us drink, Till o' his purse we've seen the bottom, Then we despise, and ha'e forgot him. Yet gratefu' hearts, to make amends, Will ay be sorry for their friends, And I for thee — As mony a time Wi' you I've speel'd the braes o' rime, Whare for the time the Muse ne'er cares For siller, or sic guilefu' wares, TO MY AULD BREEKS. 125 Wi' whilk we drumly grow, and crabbit, Dowr, capernoited, thrawin gabbit, And brither, sister, friend and fae, Without remeid of kindred, slae. You've seen me round the bickers reel 1 Wi' heart as hale as temper'd steel, And face sae apen, free and blyth, Nor thought that sorrow there cou'd kyth ; But the niest moment this was lost, Like gowan in December's frost. Cou'd Prick-the-house but be sae handy To make the breeks and claise to stand ay, Thro' thick and thin wi' you I'd dash on, Nor mind the folly of the fashion : But hegh ! the times vicissitude* Gars ither breeks decay as you do. Thae Macaronies, braw and windy, Maun fail — Sic transit gloria mundi ! Now speed you to some madam's chaumer, That butt an' ben rings dule an' claumer, Ask her, in kindness, if she seeks In hidling ways to wear the breeks ? Safe you may dwall, tho' mould and motty, Beneath the veil o' under coatie, For this mair faults nor yours can screen Frae lover's quickest sense, his ein. 1 In a printed, but unpublished versified letter which Mr. Thomas Ruddiman addressed to Burns immediately on the appearance of the Kilmarnock or first edition of his poems, he makes some touching allu- sions to Fergusson : and in one stanza introduces the line to which this note is appended. It is as follows : Poor Fergusson ! I kent him weel, He was a blythsome, canty chiel, " I've seen him roun' the bickers reel " An' lilt his sang, An' crack his joke, sae pat an' leal, Ye'd ne'er thocht lang. 126 AULD REIKIE. Or if some bard in lucky times, Shou'd profit meikle by his rhimes, And pace awa', wi' smirky face, In siller or in gowden lace, Glowr in his face, like spectre gaunt, Remind him o' his former want, To cow his daffin and his pleasure, And gar him live within the measure. So Philip, it is said, who wou'd ring O'er Macedon a just and gude king, Fearing that power might plume his feather And bid him stretch beyond the tether, Ilk morning to his lug wad ca' A tiny servant o' his ha', To tell him to improve his span, For Philip was, like him, a man. AULD REIKIE. [This poem of ' Auld Reikie' was intended to be of consid- erable length. The lines down to "Our New City spreads around, her bonny wings on fairy ground" were published as a small tract in 1773, as ' Canto I.' with the following modest dedication to Sir William Forbes, Baronet: "To Sir William Forbes, Baronet, this poem is most respectfully dedicated, by his most obedient and very humble servant, the Author." Dr. Irving tells us, (though without stating his authority,) that Sir William despised " The poor ovations of a minstrel's praise," and that the result was, that unencouraged, the design was left incompleted. The few additions and corrections first appeared in Ruddiman's supplement to Part I. of the Poems 1779.] Auld Reikie ! x wale o' ilka town That Scotland kens beneath the moon ; 1 This highly appropriate popular soubriquet cannot toe traced beyond AULD REIKIE. 127 Whare couthy chiels at e'ening meet Their bizzing craigs and mou's to weet : And blythly gar auld Care gae bye Wi' blinkit and wi' bleering eye : O'er long frae thee the Muse has been Sae frisky on the simmer's green, Whan flowers and gowans wont to glent In bonny blinks upo' the bent ; But now the leaves o' yellow die, Peel'd frae the branches, quickly fly ; And now frae nouther bush nor brier The speckled mavis greets your ear ; Nor bonny blackbird skims and roves To seek his love in yonder groves. Then, Reikie, welcome ! Thou canst charm Unfleggit by the year's alarm ; Not Boreas, that sae snelly blows, Dare here pap in his angry nose : Thanks to our dads, whase biggin stands A shelter to surrounding lands. Now morn, with bonny purpie-smiles, Kisses the air-cock o' St. Giles ; Rakin their ein, the servant lasses Early begin their lies and clashes ; Ilk tells her friend of saddest distress, That still she brooks frae scoulin' mistress ; the reign of Charles II. Tradition assigns the following as the origin of the phrase : — An old gentleman in Fife, designated Durham of Largo, was in the habit, at the period mentioned, of regulating the time of even- ing worship by the appearance of the smoke of Edinburgh, which he could easily see through the clear summer twilight, from his own door. When he observed the smoke increase in density, in consequence of the good folk of the city preparing their supper, he would call all the family into the house, saying, ' It's time now, bairns, to tak the beuks, and gang to our beds, for yonder's Auld Reikie, I see, putting on her nicht- cap!'— Traditions of Edinburgh, p. 147. Ed. 1847. [But query— did the good folk of the city begin to prepare their supper in the clear sum- mer twilight ? We trow not.] 128 AULD RE1KIE. And wi' her joe in turnpike stair She'd rather snuff the stinkin' air, As be subjected to her tongue, When justly censur'd in the wrong. On stair wi' tub, or pat in hand, The barefoot housemaids loe to stand, That antrin fock may ken how snell Auld Reikie will at morning smell : Then, with an inundation big as The burn that 'neath the Nore Loch * brig is, They kindly shower Edina's roses, To quicken and regale our noses. Now some for this, wi' satyr's leesh, Ha'e gi'en auld Edinburgh a creesh : 2 But without souring nocht is sweet ; The morning smells that hail our street, Prepare, and gently lead the way To simmer canty, braw and gay ; Edina's sons mair eithly share Her spices and her dainties rare, Than he that's never yet been calPd Aff frae his plaidie or his fauld. Now stairhead critics, senseless fools, Censure their aim, and pride their rules, In Luckenbooths, 3 wi' glo wring eye, Their neighbours sma'est faults descry ; If ony loun shou'd dander there, Of aukward gate, and foreign air, 1 Drained 1820. 2 Vid. Smollett and Johnson and the graphic Letters of Mrs Winifred Jenkins, etc. etc., concerning these ' Sabsean odours/ defended with a magnanimity that should canonize our poet among the Anti-Ashley- ' Cleansing ' Bill dirt-lovers I 3 Just as in earlier days, when Gay and Tytler and Dick and Bennet and other ' Wits,' were wont to meet in Allan Ramay's shop in order to observe character. AULD REIKIE. 129 They trace his steps, till they can tell His pedigree as weel's himsell. Whan Phoebus blinks wi' warmer ray, And schools at noonday get the play, Then bus'ness, weighty bus'ness, comes ; The trader glours ; he doubts, he hums : The lawyers eke to Cross repair, Their wigs to shaw, and toss an air ; While busy agent closely plies, And a' his kittle cases tries. Now Night, that's cunzied chief for fun, Is wi' her usual rites begun ; Thro' ilka gate the torches blaze, And globes send out their blinking rays. The usefu' cadie plies in street, To bide the profits o' his feet ; For by thir lads Auld Reikie's fock Ken but a sample o' the stock 0' thieves, that nightly wad oppress, And make baith goods and gear the less. Near him the lazy chairman stands, And wats na how to turn his hands, Till some daft birky, ranting fu', Has matters somewhere else to do ; The chairman willing, gi'es his light To deeds o' darkness and o' night : It's never sax pence for a lift That gars thir lads wi' fu'ness rift ; For they wi' better gear are paid, And whores and culls support their trade. Near some lamp-post, wi' dowy face, Wi' heavy een, and sour grimace, Stands she that beauty lang had kend, Whoredom her trade, and vice her end. 130 AULI> REIKIE. But see wharenow she wuns her bread, By that which Nature ne'er decreed ; And sings sad music to the lugs, 'Mang burachs o' damn'd whores and rogues. Whane'er we reputation loss, Fair chastity's transparent gloss, Redemption seenil kens the name But a's black misery and shame. Frae joyous tavern, reeling drunk, Wi' fiery phizz, and ein half sunk, Behald the bruiser, fae to a' That in the reek o's gardies fa' : Close by his side, a feckless race 0' macaronies shew their face, And think they're free frae skaith or harm, While pith befriends their leaders arm : Yet fearfu' aften o' their maught, They quatt the glory o' the faught To this same warrior wha led Thae heroes to bright honour's bed ; And aft the hack o' honour shines In bruiser's face wi' broken lines : Of them sad tales he tells anon, Whan ramble and whan fighting's done ; And, like Hectorian, ne'er impairs The brag and glory o' his sairs. Whan feet in dirty gutters plash, And fock to wale their fitstaps fash ; At night the macaroni drunk, In pools or gutters aftimes sunk : Hegh ! what a fright he now appears, Whan he his corpse dejected rears ! Look at that head, and think if there The pomet slaister'd up his hair ! AULD REIKIE. 131 The cheeks observe, where now cou'd shine The scancing glories o' carmine ? Ah, legs ! in vain the silk-worm there Display'd to view her eidant care ; For stink, instead of perfumes, grow, And clarty odours fragrant flow, Now some to porter some to punch, Some to their wife, and some their wench, Retire, while noisy ten-hours drum * Gars a' your trades gae dandring home. Now mony a club, jocose and free, Gi'e a' to merriment and glee ; Wi' sang and glass, they fley the pow'r 0' care that wad harass the hour : For wine and Bacchus still bear down Our thrawart fortunes wildest frown : It maks you stark, and bauld, and brave, Ev'n whan descending to the grave. Now some, in Pandemonium's 2 shade, Resume the gormandizing trade ; Whare eager looks, and glancing ein, Forespeak a heart and stamack keen. Gang on, my lads ; it's lang sin syne We kent auld Epicurus' line ; Save you the board wad cease to rise, Bedight wi' daintiths to the skies ; 1 All the shops in the town were then (1773) shut at eight o'clock ; and from that hour till ten — when the drum of the Town-Guard announced at once a sort of licence for the deluging of the street with nuisances, and a warning of the inhabitants home to their beds— unrestrained scope was given to the delights of the table. No tradesman thought of going home to his family till after he had spent an hour or two at his club. This was universal and unfailing. — Convivalia. Traditions of Edinburgh, p. 143 sq. Edit. 1847. 2 A social club of the period, wjtiich bore this somewhat ominous sou- briquet. 132 AULD RETKIE. And salamanders cease to swill The comforts of a burning gill. But chief, Cape ! x we crave thy aid, To get our cares and poortith laid : Sincerity, and genius true, Of Knights have ever been the due : Mirth, music, porter deepest dy'd, 2 Are never here to worth deny'd : And health, o' happiness the queen, Blinks bonny, wi' her smile serene. Tho' joy maist part Auld Reikie owns, Eflftsoons she kens sad sorrows frowns ; What group is yon sae dismal grim, Wi' horrid aspect, deeding dim ? Says Death, They'r mine, a dowy crew, To me they'll quickly pay their last adieu. How come mankind, whan lacking woe, In saulie's face their heart to show, As if they were a clock, to tell That grief in them had rung her bell ? Then, what is man ? why a' this phraze ? Life's spunk decay'd, nae mair can blaze, Let sober grief alone declare Our fond anxiety and care : Nor let the undertakers be The only waefu' friends we see. Come on, my muse, and then rehearse The gloomiest theme in a' your verse : In morning, whan ane keeks about, Fu' blyth and free frae ail, nae doubt He lippens not to be misled Amang the regions of the dead ; 1 This was a similar social club, concerning which see Appendix to Life of Fergusson, Note L. 2 See Additional Notes and Illustrations to Scottish Poems, H. AITLD REIKIE. 133 But straight a painted corp he sees, Lang streekit 'neath its canopies. Soon, soon will this his mirth controul, And send damnation to his soul : Or when the dead-deal, (awful shape !) Makes frighted mankind girn and gape, Reflection then his reason sours, For the niest dead-deal may be ours. Whan Sybil led the Trojan down To haggard Pluto's dreary town, Shapes war nor thae, I freely ween, Cou'd never meet the soldier's ein. If kail sae green, or herbs, delight, Edina's street attracts the sight ; l Not Covent-garden, clad sae braw, Mair fouth o' herbs can eithly shaw : For mony a yeard is here sair sought, That kail and cabbage may be bought ; And healthfu' sallad to regale, Whan pamper'd wi' a heavy meal. Glour up the street in simmer morn, The birks sae green, and sweet brier-thorn, Wi' spraingit flow'rs that scent the gale, Ca' far awa' the morning smell, Wi' which our ladies flow'r-pat's fill'd, And every noxious vapour kill'd. Nature ! canty, blyth and free, Whare is there keeking-glass like thee 1 Is there on earth that can compare Wi' Mary's shape, and Mary's air, 1 The High Street between the Tron Church and St. Giles was at that time a vegetable market. M 134 AULD REIKIE. Save the empurpled speck, that glows l In the saft faulds of yonder rose I 2 How bonny seems the virgin breast. Whan by the lilies here carest, And leaves the mind in doubt to tell Which maist in sweets and hue excel 1 Gillespies' 3 snuff should prime the nose Of her that to the market goes, .If they wad like to shun the smells That buoy up frae market cells ; Whare wames o' paunches sav'ry scent To nostrils gi'e great discontent. Now wha in Albion could expect 0' cleanliness sic great neglect ? Nae Hottentot that daily lairs 'Mang tripe, or ither clarty wares, Hath ever yet conceiv'd, or seen Beyond the line, sic scenes unclean. On Sunday here, an alter'd scene 0' men and manners meets our ein : Ane wad maist trow some people chose To change their faces wi' their clo'es, And fain wad gar ilk neighbour think They thirst for goodness, as for drink : But there's an unco dearth o' grace, That has nae mansion but the face, 1 Var. grows. 2 Bright as the empurpled speck that grows, In saftest leaf o' freshest rose. William Taylok. Poems. Edin. 1777. 1 vol. 8vo. 3 The Gillespies, whose snuff is celebrated by Fergusson, were two bro- thers, one of whom was the founder of the excellent Hospital at the head of the Links, Edinburgh. They realized a large fortune, mainly, it is said, by having had a large stock of tobacco at the breaking out of the American war. Their portraits are given in Kay, No. LXXI V. p. 218 sq. vol. II. part I, where interesting memorabilia concerning them will be found. AULD REIKIE. 135 And never can obtain a part In benmost corner of the heart. Why should religion make us sad, If good frae virtue's to be had 1 Na, rather gleefu' turn your face ; Forsake hypocrisy, grimace ; And never have it understood You fleg mankind frae being good. In afternoon, a' brawly buskit, The joes and lasses loe to frisk it : Some take a great delight to place The modest bongrace l o'er the face ; Tho' you may see, if so inclin'd, The turning o' the leg behind. Now Comeley-garden 2 and the Park 3 Refresh them after forenoon's wark ; Newhaven, Leith, or Canonmills, 4 Supply them in their Sunday's gills ; Whare writers aften spend their pence, To stock their heads wi' drink and sense. While dandring cits delight to stray To Castlehill, or public way, Whare they nae other purpose mean, Than that fool cause o' being seen ; 1 The bongrace was a bonnet of silk and cane, in shape somewhat like a modern bonnet. — Female Dresses of Last Century. Chambers. 2 Near Stockbridge, Edinburgh. 3 King's— Queen's Park. Note 2. p. 27. 4 A village near Edinburgh, or rather part and portion of the city, I find an allusion in one of Alexander Pennecuik's odd poems to the village as one mill. The grandam of the Tinklarian Doctor in ' Merry Tales for the lang nights of Winter,' is told by him that her tongue * * ne'er lies still, Ay grinding like the Canno-mill. Pennecuik was contemporary with Allan Ramsay. See note 2. p. 23. M 2 136 AULD REIKIE. Let me to Arthur's Seat pursue, 1 Whare bonny pastures meet the view ; And mony a wild-lorn scene accrues, Befitting Willie Shakespeare's muse : If Fancy there would join the thrang, The desart rocks and hills amang, To echoes we should lilt and play, And gi'e to mirth the lee-lang day. Or shou'd some canker'd biting show'r The day and a' her sweets deflow'r, To Holy-rood-house let me stray, And gi'e to musing a' the day ; Lamenting what auld Scotland knew Bien days for ever frae her view : Hamilton, 2 for shame ! the Muse Would pay to thee her couthy vows, Gin ye wad tent the humble strain, And gie's our dignity again : For 0, waes me ! the thistle springs In domicile of ancient kings, Without a patriot, to regrete Our palace, and our ancient state. Blest place ! whar debtors dayly run, To rid themselves frae jail and dun ; Here, tho' sequester'd frae the din That rings Auld Reikie's wa's within, 1 It will be remembered that " Arthur's Seat " is the title of a poem in three Cantos of Richard Gall. The reverend biographer of this sweet poet, in annotating on the couplet "To sing the list o' beauties thrang, That ne'er hae swell'd the poet's sang," states that "he has seen a descriptive poem on Arthur's Seat," but that "he cannot now (1819) recollect by what author." It was written by Mercer, author of the Sentimental Sailor, and occurs in a volume of his Poems, 4to. 1774. 2 The duke of Hamilton, hereditary keeper of the palace. AULD REIKIE 137 Yet they may tread the sunny braes, And brook Apollo's cheery rays ; Glour frae St. Anthon's 1 grassy heigh t, O'er vales in simmer claise bedight, Nor ever hing their head, I ween, Wi' jealous fear o' being seen. May I, whanever duns come nigh, And shake my garret wi' their cry, Scour here wi' haste, protection get, To screen mysell frae them and debt ; To breathe the bliss of open sky, And Simon Eraser's 2 bolts defy. Now gin a lown should ha'e his clase In thread-bare autumn o' their days, St. Mary, 3 brokers' guardian saint, Will satisfy ilk ail and want ; For mony a hungry writer there Dives down at night, wi' cleading bare, And quickly rises to the view A gentleman, perfyte and new. 1 " A better site for such a building [St. Anthony's Chapel] could not have been selected: for the chapel, situated among the rude and pathless cliffs, lies in a desert, even in the immediate vicinity of a rich, populous and tumultuous capital : and the hum of the city might mingle with the orisons of the recluses, conveying as little of worldly interest as if it had been the roar of the distant ocean." — Scott : Heart of Midlothian, c. xv. 2 See note 1. p. 45. The vicinage of Holyrood Palace was, and is, a Sanctuary— a place of refuge for debtors, who were jestingly called Abbey-Lairds, as Jenny humorously answers the ' Cock Laird : ' The Borrowstoun merchants Will sell ye on tick ; For we maun hae braw things. Albeit they soud break. When broken, frae care The fools are set free, When we make them lairds In the Abbey, quoth she. Ramsay. Song : The ' Cock Laird.' 3 A mean close or street still exclusively occupied by dealers in old clothes, who continue the pests of our street-corners. M 3 138 AULD REIKIE. Ye rich fock, look no wi' disdain Upon this ancient brokage lane, For naked poets are supplied With what you to their wants deny'd. Peace to thy shade, thou wale o' men, Drummond ! x relief to poortith's pain : To thee the greatest bliss we owe, And tribute's tear shall grateful flow : The sick are cur'd, the hungry fed, And dreams of comfort tend their bed : As lang as Forth weets Lothian's shore, As lang's on Fife her billows roar, Sae lang shall ilk whase country's dear, To thy remembrance gi'e a tear. By thee Auld Reikie thrave, and grew Delightfu' to her childer's view : Nae mair shall Glasgow striplings threap Their city's beauty and its shape, While our new city spreads around Her bonny wings on fairy ground. 2 But provosts now that ne'er afford The smaest dignity to lord, Ne'er care tho' every scheme gae wild That Drummond's sacred hand has cull'd : The spacious brig neglected lies, 3 Tho' plagu'd wi' pamphlets, dunn'd wi' cries 1 George Drummond, whose name is still had in honour as a benevolent chief magistrate, whose exertions were mainly instrumental in the estab- lishment of the present Infirmary, and extension of the city over the grounds to the north. There is a marble bust of Drummond by Nol- lekens in the Hall of the Royal Infirmary. 2 Here the poem as Canto I. ended : the additions first appeared in Part II. of the Poems 1779: Ruddiman's Supplement to the volume of 1773. 3 In allusion to the state of the North Bridge after its fall.— F. This inelegant, nay hideous bridge is still the disgrace of the first city in Europe. AULD REIKIE. 139 They heed not tho' destruction come To gulp us in her gaunting womb. shame ! that safety canna claim Protection from a provost's name, But hidden danger lies behind To torture and to fleg the mind ; 1 may as weel bid Arthur's Seat To Berwick-law make gleg retreat, As think that either will or art Shall get the gate to win their heart ; For politics are a' their mark, Bribes latent, and corruption dark : If they can eithly turn the pence, Wi' city's good they will dispense ; Nor care tho' a' her sons were lair'd Ten fathom i' the auld kirk-yard. To sing yet meikle does remain, Undecent for a modest strain ; And since the poet's daily bread is The favour of the Muse or ladies, He downa like to gie offence To delicacy's bonny sense ; Therefore the stews remain unsung, And bawds in silence drop their tongue. Reikie, farewell ! I ne'er cou'd part Wi' thee but wi' a dowy heart ; Aft frae the Fifan coast I've seen Thee tow'ring on thy summit green ; So glowr the saints when first is given, A fav'rite keek o' glore and heaven ; On earth nae mair they bend their ein, But quick assume angelic mien ; So I on Fife wad glowr no more, But gallop to Edina's shore. 140 HORACE, ODE XI. LIB. I. HORACE, ODE XL LIB. I. Ne'er fash your thumb what gods decree To be the weird o' you or me, Nor deal in cantrup's kittle cunning To speir how fast your days are running, But patient lippen for the best, Nor be in dowy thought opprest, Whether we see mair winters come Than this that spits wi' canker'd foam. Now moisten weel your geyzan'd wa's Wi' couthy friends and hearty blaws ; Ne'er lat your hope o'ergang your days, For eild and thraldom never stays : The day looks gash, toot aff your horn, Nor care yae strae about the morn. ADDITIONAL NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. A.— ELEGY ON GREGORY, Page 1. Professor David Gregory of St. Andrews, the subject of this Elegy, was the son of Professor Charles Gregory, who had been appointed to the chair by Queen Anne in 1707: and filled it for thirty-two years, resigning in 1739 in favour of his son David. These Gregories were descended from a brother of the great-great-grandfather of the present respected and celebrated Professor of Chemistry in the University of Edin- burgh. This was James Gregory, first of Aberdeen, and after- wards of Edinburgh, the inventor of the reflecting telescope. The following is a sketch of the descent of the families. David Gregory of James Gregory. Kinairdy. 1 1 I I Dr. James of David of James of Charles Aberdeen. Edinr. and St. Andrews of I Oxford. 1 and Edinr. 1 St. Andrews. 1 Dr. John of Aberdeen and Edinburgh. Dr. David, James David of 1 Dean of also Professor St. Andrews. Dr. James of Christ Ch., ra I Edinr. Oxford. Charles. 1 1 Dr. Willm. of Aberdeen. Mrs. Graham and Edinr. Died 1814, 1 when this branch Professor William became extinct. Gregory, now of Edinburgh, a worthy representative of perhaps the most remarkable Family in Scotland. Communicated by Professor Gregory and Principal Lee of Edinburgh. B.— KING'S BIRTH-DAY, p. 15. George Bruce, in his Poems, Ballads and Songs, 1 vol. 8vo. 1813, has 'Elegiac verses on the King's Birth-day 1812.' He apostrophizes the Muse of Fergusson, and says : 142 ADDITIONAL NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. Now gin a callan throw a cracker, Or squib, nae crime can here he blacker; Her nainsell to the Guard will tak her, An' pe my saul ! She'll may pe owre to Pridewell pack her, Sax owks to dwall. Now baudrons, ye may safely sleep, Our callans, here, faith! dauma cheep, For our Police sic order keep That shou'd a kittlen, Be thrown that day wi' glarie sweep, They'd get a settlin'. P. 140 sq. C— CITY GUARD, p. 6. I gladly avail myself of an additional illustration of the Text from Wilson's 'Memorials of Edinburgh in the Olden Time.' Among the more homely associations of the Old Parliament Close, the festivities of the King's birth-day demand a special notice, as perhaps the most popular among the long cherished customs of our ancestors, which the present generation has beheld gradually expire. It was usual on this annual festival to have a public repast in the Parliament Hall, where tables were laid out at the expense of the city, covered with wine and confections, and the magistrates, judges, and nearly all the chief citizens, assembled for what was styled " the drinking of the king's health." On the morning of this joyous holiday, the statue of King Charles was gaily decorated with flowers by the " Auld Callants," as the eleves of Heriot's Hospital are still termed, who claimed this office by long prescription, and their acknowledged skill in the art of loyal decoration, acquired in the annual custom of decking their own founder's statue. This formed one of the chief attractions to the citizens through- out the day, as well as to their numerous rustic visitors who crowded into the capital on the occasion, to witness or share in the fun. Towards the afternoon, the veteran corps of the City-Guard were called out to man the eastern entrance into the Parliament close while the guests were assembling for the civic entertainment, and thereafter to draw up in front of the great hall, and announce with a volley to the capital at large, ADDITIONAL NOTES AXD LLLUsTRATIOX; 143 each loval toast of its assembled rulers. Never did forlorn hope undertake a more desperate duty ! The first yolley of these unpopular guardians of ciyic order was the signal for a frenzied assault on them by the whole rabble of the town, commemorated in Fergusson's ' King's Birth-day.' Dead dogs and cats, and eveiy offensive missile that could be procured for the occasion, were now hurled at their devoted heads, and when at last they received orders to march back again to their old citadel in the High Street, the strife became furious: the rough old veterans dealt their blows right and left with musket and Lochaber axe wielded by no gentle hand, but their efforts were hopeless against the spirit and numbers of their enemies, and the retreat generally ended in an ignominious route of the whole chic guard. &e. &c. Vol. I. p. 218 sq. See Additional Notes and Illustrations B. D.— CITY GUARD, p. 14. This redoubtable corps having no Historian, I make no ex- cuse for still further illustrating the text from Scott. Writing in the Heart of Midlothian in 1817 he says, " Of late, the gradual diminution of these civic soldiers reminds one of the abatement of King Lear's hundred Knights. The edicts of each set of succeeding magistrates have, like those of Goneril and Kegan. diminished this venerable band with similar ques- tion — "What need have we of five-and-twenty ? ten? — five?' and now it is nearly come to, ' What need we one ?' A spectre may indeed here and there still be seen of an old gray- headed and gray-bearded Highlander, with war-worn features, but bent double by age ; dressed in an old-fashioned cocked- hat, bound with white tape instead of silver lace, and in coat, waistcoat, and breeches of a muddy-coloured red; bearing in his withered hand an ancient weapon called a Lochaber axe: a long pole, namely, with an axe at the extremity, and a hook at the back of the hatchet. Such a phantom of former days still creeps. I have been informed, round the statue of Charles n. in the Parliament Square, as if the image of a Stuart were tne last refuge for any memorial or* our ancient manners," &a At the this very year, the -What need we one?' was asked, and answered in the negative : and the corps was ac- cordingly dissolved. •' Their last march to do duty at Hallow Fair had something in it affecting. Their drums and fifes had 144 ADDITIONAL NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. been wont, in better days, to play on this joyous occasion the lively tune of: • Jockey to the fair ;' but on this final occasion, the afflicted veterans moved slowly to the dirge of: ' The last time I came owre the muir.' " Waverley Annotations, i. 435. The half-serious pathos of Scott, says Chambers, regarding this corps, becomes wholly so, when we learn that a couple of members survived, to make what will perhaps prove an actual last public appearance, in the procession which consecrated his richly deserved monument, August 15th, 1840. E.— Page 114. Cairn-o' mount, or Cairniemount, a lofty Grampian moun- tain, lying on the south bank of the Dee, Kincardineshire, celebrated as well in Scottish history as in song, on account of the road between the great districts of Angus and Moray, which passes over it. F.— DRINK ECLOGUE, p. 115, line 3 from bottom. The leader of a sheep-flock ' wears ' or ' bears ' a bell on his neck which directs his fleecy harem in the event of their straying. The tinkling of the little ' bell ' in the silence of the sheep-tracks among the Highland hills is peculiarly striking. G.— ECLOGUE, p. 120. This Jock is the ' herd,' and as the herd is very frequently mentioned by Fergusson, it cannot be out of place to insert in this additional Note some particulars concerning 'Herds.' I do so the more willingly as I shall have occasion thereby as well to elucidate and illustrate Burns as Fergusson. The 'herd laddie or callant,' as he was sometimes called, usually entered to his service about the middle of March or thereby, not to herd (for milk cows are rarely turned out to pasture till the " Beltane win bla's " or about the 1st of May) but to ' drive the harrows,' i. e. to drive a horse or pair of horses in harrowing the land. When not employed in such occupations his business is (or was) to fodder the cattle, drive ADDITIONAL NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 1 45 them out to water, help to ' muck the byre,' to ' redd the barn ' (' bottle ' the straw during the time the thrashers are at work), run errands, and make himself generally useful; in a word, the ' Herd ' is a drudge to every one about a farm-house. If however he be a boy of some discretion and shrewdness, his situation is seldom uncomfortable, for he necessarily knows a good deal of the love affairs of the young women about the house, and frequently something of those of the young men. Does the dog bark at night, the duty of the ' herd laddie is to rin to the door' and see what he is barking at: if he under- stands his position he will come back and report " naething ava," but by and by a sly sidelong glance given to one or other of the ' lassies ' expresses something very different. He is often useful to the 'lads ' too, for he is sometimes em- ployed by them to carry a message to their 'sweethearts,' or to run some little errand for them after ' night fa',' so that most of the young folks find it to be their interest ' to keep in wi' the herd callant ;' and if he be a ' bit clever, manfu', biddable thing, that does not stay his errand, ' he may reckon on the friendship and protection of both the ' Gudewife and Gude- man.' When the cattle are ' morninged ' (turned out in the morn- ing to pasture), in May as stated, with his club and (formerly) touting-hom, the Herd is sent out along with them. If he be a ' thrifty thing,' he will have his stocking (a stocking to knit) along with him: or if otherwise a book or a ballad. The morning's 'hirsel' is commonly near the Steading, so that in this case he is seldom within ' speaking reach ' of a neighbour herd, but should any one's cattle, within sight, be making their way to the growing grain, he instantly mounts the highest hillock near him, and swings his club about his head and sings out with a peculiar cadence : Holloa — holloa hey ho, hey ho, hey ho, A Tammy Tramp's kye's in the corn — hollo ! Very likely in a short time afterwards his neighbour has oc- casion to retaliate with : Ilerdie birdie blaw your horn, A' your kye's in the corn, The kye's in the corn, the sheep in the bere, [barley] The herd will be hangit afore the neist year. In the after-part of the day the cattle are usually sent to the ' outfield hirsel,' and there the herd passes the time with others N 1 46 ADDITIONAL NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. of his own age and calling in some amusement or other till it is time to 'drive the kye hame:' and in this way the summer is spent. I proceed to elucidate Burns in connection with the herd. The herd's club and touting horn have long been in many places in desuetude: but Burns, in his 'Twa herds' refers to both: ' He fine a mangy sheep could scrub, Or nobly fling the gospel club, * * * The twa best herds in a' the wast That ere gae'd gospel's horn a blast ' It may well be doubted if there is one in five hundred of his readers who understands the objects to which he alludes in these lines. The club was a short thick stick with a large knob at the end which adapted it well for 'flinging,' and for this it was used. The horn was a large horn, such as may be seen on the head of a West Highland bullock, but not so small. Although few farmers possessing large farms were with- out a ' touting horn,' yet I have never seen nor heard of what use it was to the herd, unless perhaps to call off the dog from ' hounding the cattle ' when out of reach of the herd's voice. H.— AULD REIK1E, p. 132. This allusion to the Cape Club appears to have been the subject of humorous accusation against the poet. He was himself a member of it. Mr. Laing of the Writers to the Signet's Library has furnished me with a poetical ' Summons ' in the holograph of Fergusson, which apparently respects the text: To Jeemy Neehum, our Recorder, Heralds and purs'vants of that order, Whereas 'tis meant and shewn to me This month of August seventy-three That some unlicensed prying blades Of late have occupied the Shades, The like in future to prevent It is our sov-er-eign intent That from this month of August so forth, You shall debar all Knights of no worth, ADDITIONAL XOTES AND ILLLSTEATIOXS. 147 By lock-fast doors at noon-tide hours. To keep it from the rascal's powers. Therefore I charge you that ye summon Precentor, 1 base born son of woman. To answer in the hour of cause For open insult to our laws. Likeas ordain him to depone If he has lybell's, any one Containing treasonable rhymes Or other treasonable crimes Which he has issued 'gainst the Shades And all our bumper-drinking blades. All things before said which to do We hereby do commit to you As all of you and even- one Shall answer to us thereupon. I. — King's birth-day in Edinburgh, p. 15, Stanza 1st. The following quotation from one of the inimitable Essays of. Goldsmith affords a laughable illustration of the text. " In the midst of these pleasing reflections, as I was proceeding with a stately pace, and with all the solemnity of a newly-acquired and conscious dignity, I heard a hissing noise in one of the tails of my wig, and looking about, soon per- ceived a stream of fire dashing from my right ear. I fled, it followed: I shook my head ; it was pinned too close to be shook off. and just as I arrived at George's, it went off in a bounce." J. — Answer to Mr. J. S's. Epistle, p. -24. •• Atidfrae ilk corner,'' &c, I had resolved on the omission of these two stanzas, and a stray expression in other of the poems; but I have been con- strained to suffer the authors language to appear in the text : and now have no other apology to offer to those who may ex- pect one, than to express my regret that Fergusson should have used such expressions; and that, in the words of the Editor of Tyndale. M the taste and decision of the literary world, in its present state of refinement [?] should not allow an edi- tor the privileges of a common scavenger in removing the filth which past ages have left behind them." 1 'Precentor" was the elub-title of Fenrusson. See note 2 p. 131. POEMS U ENGLISH SONGS FROM ' ARTAXERXES.' [The ' Opera' in which the following ' Songs' were inserted, (the first productions of Fergusson,) was entitled " Artaxerxes, an English Opera, as it is performed at the Theatre-Royal, Edinburgh. The Music composed by Tho. Aug. Arae. Mus. Doc. With the addition of Three Favourite Scots Airs. The words by Mr. R. Fergusson. Edinburgh. Printed by Martin and Wotherspoon. mdcclxix. [Price Sixpence]." This is none other than a most wretched translation of the beautiful Play of ' Artaxerxes ' by Metastasio. The 'Songs' of Fergusson are ingeniously equal in inaninity, and it must only have been from the Artistes, who were Mr. and Madame Tenducci and an excellent Company, that either the Play itself or the Songs proved acceptable to the public. I give these Songs merely as curiosities in respect of their being among the first lispings in rhyme of our Poet. They lose, of course, somewhat of their [little] interest from their disjunc- tion from the text, but it can matter little, as I repeat, Opera and Songs are harmoniously despicable. I am indebted to Mr. Laing of the Signet Library for directing my attention to these Songs.] From Act II. Scene 2. Tune. — Braes of Balandine. i Arbaces [Tenducci.] By Heav'n's displeasure the wretch thus is thrown, With tempests harsh-sounding, on seas, yet unknown ; 1 Ballenden. These braes lie towards the Sidlaw Hills, in the Carse of Gowrie. SONGS FROM ARTAXERXES. 140 In vain, thus surrounded, he struggles with death, When toss'd by huge billows, and panting for breath ; Even hope too, forsakes him, no pity he craves ; He's left, without mercy, the sport of the waves. From Act II. Scene 6. Tune. — Roslin Castle. Mandane [Madame Tendncci.] What doubts oppress my wounded heart f My soul at every breath doth start ! Fain would my gloomy thoughts i*etire, Nor fill my stormy breast with ire : Yet cares torment my tortur'd mind, Leaving their rugged tracts behind ; And still my soul they hold in pain, Their cruel empire to maintain. From Act III. Scene 7. Tune. — Lochaber no more. Enter Aebaces [Tendueci.] where shall I wander my lover to find, And with sweet discourses indulge my fond mind? Once more I must view her before I depart, And with mild embraces enliven my heart. Perchance she's approaching that smooth-gliding stream, Where I first espy'd and discover'd my flame : Farewell then my sorrows, I'll leave you a while, And steal from my true love one ravishing smile. These 'Songs' were not included by Fergusson in his own Vplumeof 1773. n3 150 ODE TO HOPE. ODE TO HOPE. Hope ! lively chearer of the mind, In lieu of real bliss design'd, Come from thy ever verdant bow'r To chase the dull and ling'ring hour ; ! bring, attending on thy reign, All thy ideal fairy train, To animate the lifeless clay, And bear my sorrows hence away. Hence gloomy featur'd black Despair, With all thy frantic furies fly, Nor rend my breast with gnawing care, For Hope in lively garb is nigh ; Let pining Discontentment mourn, Let dull ey'd Melancholy grieve, Since pleasing Hope must reign by turn, And ev'ry bitter thought relieve. smiling Hope ! in adverse hour, 1 feel thy influencing power ; Tho' frowning Fortune fix my lot, In some defenceless lonely cot, Where Poverty, with empty hands, In pallid meagre aspect stands ; Thou can'st enrobe me, 'midst the great, With all the crimson pomp of state, Where Luxury invites his guests To pall them with his lavish feasts : What cave so dark, what gloom so drear, So black with horror, dead with fear ! ODE TO HOPE. 151 But thou can'st dart thy streaming ray, And change close night to open day. Health is attendant in thy radiant train, Round her the whisp'ring zephyrs gently play, Behold her gladly tripping o'er the plain, Bedeck'd with rural sweets and garlands gay. When vital spirits are depress'd, And heavy languor clogs the breast, Comforting Hope ! 'tis thine to cure, Devoid of Esculapian power ; For oft thy friendly aid avails, When all the strength of physic fails. Nay, even though death should aim his dart, I know he lifts his arm in vain, Since thou this lesson can'st impart, Mankind but die to live again. \ Depriv'd of thee must banners fall ; But where a living Hope is found, The legions shout at danger's call, And victors are triumphant crown'd. Come then, bright Hope ! in smiles array 'd, Revive us by thy quick'ning breath, Then shall we never be afraid To walk thro' danger, and thro' death. 152 A TALE. Those rigid pedagogues and fools, Who walk by self-invented rules, Do often try, with empty head, The emptier mortals to mislead, And fain would urge, that none but they Could rightly teach the A, B, C, On which they've got an endless comment, To trifling minds of mighty moment, Throwing forth l barriers in the way Of those who genius display, As often, ah ! too often, teaze Them out of patience, and of fees, Before they're able to explode Obstructions thrown on Learning's road. May mankind all employ their tools To banish pedantry from schools ! And may each pedagogue avail, By list'ning to the after tale ! Wise Mr. Birch had long intended The alphabet should be amended, And taught that H a breathing was, Ergo he saw no proper cause Why such a letter should exist : Thus in a breath was he dismiss'd, With, "0 beware, beware, youth ! Take not the villain in your mouth." One day this alphabetic sinner Was eager to devour his dinner, 1 Var. such. THE THREE BEAUTIFUL SISTERS. 153 When to appease the craving glutton His boy Tom produc'd the mutton, Was such disaster ever told ? Alas ! the meat was deadly cold ! Here take and h — eat it, says the master ; Quoth Tom, that shall be done, and fast, Sir : And few there are who will dispute it, But he went instantly about it ; For Birch had scorn'd the H to say, And blew him with a puff away. The bell was rung with dread alarm ; " Bring me the mutton, is it warm ?" Sir, you desir'd, and I have eat it ; " You lie, my orders were to heat it." Quoth Tom, I'll readily allow That H is but a breathing now. ON BEING ASKED WHICH OF THREE SISTERS WAS THE MOST BEAUTIFUL. When Paris gave his voice, in Ida's grove, l For the resistless Venus, queen of love, 'Twas no great task to pass a judgment there, Where she alone was exquisitely fair ; But here what could his ablest judgment teach, When wisdom, power, and beauty reign in each ; The youth, nonpluss'd, behov'd to join with me, And wish the apple had been cut in three. 1 Euripides. Iphig. Aul. 1302. 1298 : Pausan : V. 19. § 1. Homer II. xxiv 25. 29. &c. &c. 154 TPIE IUVEBS OF SCOTLAND. THE RIVERS OF SCOTLAND. AN ODE. Set to Music by Mr. [Richard] CoJlett. [Richard Collett was an English violin-player, and is re- corded by Dr. Burney as having had a good tone, and a strong hand, but without either taste or knowledge of music, and only a coarse performer. He played the first violin at Vaux- hall in the summer of 1745. No doubt, writes the accom- plished George Farquhar Graham, Esq. to the Editor, " this is the Collett who set the Ode of Fergusson to music. There is no record of any other English musician of that name in the 18th century. His music must be worthless." I have never been able to discover this Ode with the Music of Collett.] O'er Scotia's parched land the Naiads flew, From towering hills explor'd her shelter'd vales, Caus'd Forth in wild meanders please the view, And lift her waters to the zephyr's gales ; Where the glad swain surveys his fertile fields, And reaps the plenty which his harvest yields. Here did those lovely nymphs, unseen, Oft wander by the river's side, And oft unbind their tresses green, To bathe them in the fluid tide : Then to the shady grottos w r ould retire, And sweetly echo to the warbling choir ; Or to the rushing waters tune their shells To call up echo from the woods, Or from the rocks, or crystal floods, Or from surrounding banks, or hills, or dales. THE RIVERS OF SCOTLAND. 155 Or to the rushing waters tune their shells To call up echo from the woods, Or from the rocks or crystal floods, Or from surrounding banks, or hills, or dales. When the cool fountains first their springs forsook, Murmuring smoothly to the azure main, Exulting Neptune then his trident shook, And wav'd his waters gently to the plain. The friendly Tritons on his chariot borne, With cheeks dilated blew the hollow-sounding horn. Now Lothian and Fifan shores, Resounding to the mermaid's song, Gladly emit their limpid stores, And bid them smoothly sail along To Neptune's empire, and with him to roll Round the revolving sphere from pole to pole ; To guard Britannia from envious foes, To view her angry vengeance hurl'd In awful thunder round the world, And trembling nations bending to her blows. To guard Britannia from envious foes, To view her angry vengeance hurl'd In awful thunder round the world, And trembling nations bending to her blows. High towering on the zephyr's breezy wing, Swift fly the Naiades from Fortha's shores, 156 THE RIVERS OF SCOTLAND. And to the southern airy mountains bring Their sweet enchantment and their magic powers. Each nymph her favourite willow takes, The earth with fev'rous tremor shakes, The stagnant lakes obey their call, Streams o'er the grassy pastures fall. Tweed spreads her waters to the lucid ray, Upon the dimpled surf the sun-beams play : On her green banks the tuneful shepherd lies, Charm'd with the music of his reed, Amidst the wavings of the Tweed : From sky-reflecting streams the river nymphs arise. CHORUS. On her green banks the tuneful shepherd lies, Charm'd with the music of his reed, Amidst the wavings of the Tweed : From sky-reflecting streams the river nymphs arise. The list'ning muses heard the shepherd play, Fame with her brazen trump proclaim'd his name, And to attend the easy graceful lay, Pan from Arcadia to Tweeda came. Fond of the change, along the banks he stray'd, And sung unmindful of th' Arcadian shade. Air — Tweedside. 1. Attend every fanciful swain, Whose notes softly flow from the reed, THE RIVERS OF SCOTLAND. 157 With harmony guide the sweet strain, To sing of the beauties of Tweed. 2. Where the music of woods and of streams In soothing sweet melody join, To enliven your pastoral themes, And make human numbers divine. Ye warblers from the vocal grove, The tender woodland strain approve, While Tweed in smoother cadence glides, O'er flow'ry vales in gentle tides ; And as she rolls her silver waves along, Murmurs and sighs to quit the rural song. Scotia's great Genius in russet clad, From the cool sedgy bank exalts her head, In joyful rapture she the change espies, Sees living streams descend and groves arise. A ik — Gilder oy. 1. As sable clouds at early day Oft dim the shining skies, So gloomy thoughts create dismay, And lustre leaves her eyes. " Ye powers ! are Scotia's ample fields " With so much beauty grac'd, " To have those sweets your bounty yields " By foreign foes defac'd ? 156 THE UIVEllS OF SCOTLAND. 3. " Jove ! at whose supreme command " The limpid fountains play, " O'er Caledonia's northern land, l " Let restless waters stray. 4. " Since from the void creation rose, " Thou'st made a sacred vow, " That Caledon to foreign foes " Should ne'er be known to bow." The mighty Thund'rer on his sapphire throne, In mercy's robes attir'd, heard the sweet voice Of female woe — soft as the moving song Of Philomela 'midst the evening shades ; And thus return'd an answer to her pray'rs : " Where birks at Nature's call arise ; " Where fragrance hails the vaulted skies ; " Where my own oak its umbrage spreads, " Delightful 'midst the woody shades ; " Where ivy mould'ring rocks entwines ; " Where breezes bend the lofty pines : " There shall the laughing Naiads stray, " 'Midst the sweet banks of winding Tay." From the dark womb of earth Tay's waters spring, Ordain'd by Jove's unalterable voice ; The sounding lyre celestial muses string, The choiring songsters in the groves rejoice. 1 Though Scotland and Caledonia are generally held as synonymous terms, yet there is a distinction : For of old, when the Picts inhabited this country, that part of it was only called Caledonia which lay to the northward of the Tay, which river is said to have been the boundary of the Roman Conquests. — F. THE RIVERS OF SCOTLAND. 159 Each fount its crystal fluids pours, Which from surrounding mountains flow ; The river bathes its verdant shores, Cool o'er the surf the breezes blow . Let England's sons extol their gardens fair, Scotland may freely boast her gen'rous streams, 1 Their soil more fertile and their milder air, Her fishes sporting in the solar beams. Thames, Humber, Severn, all must yield the bay To the pure streams of Forth, of Tweed, and Tay. CHORUS. Thames, Humber, Severn, all must yield the bay To the pure streams of Forth, of Tweed, and Tay. • Scotia ! when such beauty claims A mansion near thy flowing streams, Ne'er shall stern Mars, in iron car, Drive his proud coursers to the war : But fairy forms shall strew around Their olives on the peaceful ground ; And turtles join the warbling throng, To usher in the morning song. Or shout in chorus all the live-long day, From the green banks of Forth, of Tweed, and Tay. When gentle Phoebe's friendly light In silver radiance clothes the night ; Still music's ever varying strains Shall tell the lovers, Cynthia reigns ; And woo them to her midnight bowers, Among the fragrant dew-clad flowers, 160 PASTORALS. Where every rock, and hill, and dale, With echoes greet the nightingale, Whose pleasing, soft, pathetic tongue, To kind condolence turns the song ; And often wins the love-sick swain to stray To hear the tender variegated lay, Thro' the dark woods of Forth, of Tweed, and Tay. Hail, native streams, and native groves ! Oozy caverns, green alcoves ! Retreats for Cytherea's reign, With all the graces in her train. Hail, Fancy, thou whose ray so bright Dispels the glimmering taper's light ! Come in aerial vesture blue, Ever pleasing, ever new, In these recesses deign to dwell With me in yonder moss-clad cell : Then shall my reed successful tune the lay, In numbers wildly warbling as they stray Thro' the glad banks of Fortha, Tweed, and Tay. PASTORALS. [These Pastorals appeared anonymously in the 'Weekly Magazine ' with the following note prefixed: — " We have been favoured with three Pastorals, under the titles of Morning, Noon, and Night, written by a young Gentleman of this place, the style of which appears as natural and picturesque as that of any of the modern ones hitherto published." These Pas- torals, with the exception of the Songs in the Opera of ' Ar- taxerxes,' [1769] were the first published productions of MORNING. 161 Fergusson. Those English poems which precede them in this Volume appear however to have been earlier composed, as they are placed by the poet himself in the Volume of 1773, in which they originally appeared, before the Pastorals.'] PASTORAL I.— MORNING. DAMON AND ALEXIS. DAMON. See Pentland's rocky cliffs begin to blaze ; 3 Stern darkness flies before Aurora's rays ; 2 Cool circling breezes whirl along the air, And early shepherds to the fields repair. Lead we our flocks then to the mountain's brow, Where junipers and thorny brambles grow ; Where fonts of water 'midst the violets s spring And soaring larks with cheerful * linnets sing • Your pleasing song shall teach our flocks to stray, While sounding echoes smooth the sylvan lay. 'Tis thine to sing the graces of the morn. The zephyr trembling o'er the rip'ning corn ; 'Tis thine with ease to chant the rural lay, While bubbling fountains to your numbers play No piping swain that treads the verdant field. But to your music, and your verse must yield ; Sing then, for here we may Avith safety keep Our sportive lambkins on this mossy steep. With ruddy glow the sun adorns the land ; The pearly dew-drops on the bushes stand ; 1 Var. Aurora now her welcome visit pays. "2 Var. her cheerful rays. 3 Var. dairies. -J Var. and tuneful. o 3 162 PASTORALS. The lowing oxen through the folds we hear, And snowy flocks upon the hills appear. How sweet the murmurs of that l neighb'ring rill ! Sweet are the slumbers which its streams 2 distil ; Through pebbly channels winding as they run, And brilliant sparkling to the rising sun. Behold Edina's lofty turrets rise, Her structures fair adorn the eastern skies ; As Pentland cliffs o'ertop yon distant plain, So she the cities on our north domain. ALEXIS. Boast not of cities, or of lofty towers, Where discord all her baneful influence pours The homely cottage and the wither'd tree, With sweet content, shall be preferr'd by me. The hemlock dire shall please the heifer's taste ; Our lands, like wild Arabia, be waste ; The bee forget to range for winter food, Ere I forsake the forest and the flood. ALEXIS. Ye balmy breezes, wave the verdant field, Clouds, all your bounties, all your moisture yield, That fruits and herbage may our farms adorn, And furrow'd ridges teem with loaded corn. 1 Vw. the. 2 Var. floods. MORNING. 163 The year already hath propitious smil'd, Gentle in spring-time, and in summer mild ; No cutting blasts have hurt my tender dams, Nor hoary frosts destroy'd my infant lambs. If Ceres crown with joy the bounteous year, A sacred altar to her shrine I'll rear; A vigorous ram shall bleed, whose circling horns, His hardy front l and woolly neck 2 adorns. Teach me, Pan, to tune the slender reed, No fav'rite ram shall at thine altars bleed ; Each breathing morn thy woodland verse I'll sing, 3 And hollow dens shall with the numbers ring. Apollo, lend me thy celestial lyre, The woods in concert join at thy desire ; At morn, at noon, at night, I'll tune the lay, And bid fleet echo bear the sound away. Sweet are the breezes when cool eve returns, To lowing herds when raging Sirius burns ; Not half so sweetly winds the breeze along, As does the murmur of your pleasing song. To hear your strains the cattle spurn their food, The feather'd songsters leave their tender brood ; 1 Var. woolly neck. 2 Var. hardy front. 3 Var. I will thy verses sing. 164 PASTORALS. Around your seat 1 the silent lambs advance, While scrambling he-goats on the mountains dance. But haste, Alexis, reach yon leafy shade, Which ivy mantling round the oaks hath made, There we'll retire, and list the warbling note, That flows melodious from the blackbird's throat Your easy numbers shall his songs inspire, And every warbler join the gen'ral choir. PASTORAL II.— NOON. CORYDON, TIMANTHES. CORYDON. The sun the summit of his orb hath gain'd, No flecker'd clouds his azure path hath stain'd ; Our pregnant ewes around us cease to graze, Stung with the keenness of his sultry rays. The weary bullock from the yoke is led, And youthful shepherds from the plains are fled, To dusky shades, where scarce a glimmering ray Can dart its lustre, for the twining spray. 2 Yon cooling riv'let where the waters gleam, Where springing flowers adorn the limpid stream, Invites us where the tender willow grows, To guide our flocks and take our sweet repose. 3 T1MANTHES. To thy advice a grateful ear I'll lend, The shades I'll court where slender osiers bend ; 1 Var. shrine. 2 Var. through the leafy spray. 3 Var. take a cool repose. NOON. 165 My 1 weanlings young shall crop the rising flow'r, While we retire to yonder leafy 2 bow'r ; The woods shall echo hack thy cheerful strains, Admir'd by all our 3 Caledonian swains. There have I oft with gentle Delia stray 'd, Amidst th' embow'ring solitary shade, Before the gods to thwart my wishes strove, By blasting every pleasing glimpse of love ; For Delia wanders through the Anglian plains, Where civil discord and sedition reigns. There Scotia's sons in odious lights appear, Though we for them have waved the hostile spear ; For them my sire, enwrapp'd in curdled gore, Breathed his last moments on a foreign shore. TIMANTHES. Six lunar months, my friend, will soon expire, And she return to crown your fond desire : For her rack not your desponding mind ! In Delia's breast a gen'rous i flame's confin'd, That burns for Corydon, whose piping lay Hath caused the tedious moments steal away, Whose strains harmonious 5 moved the falling floods To whisper Delia through 6 the rising woods. 7 CORYDON. Oft have I sung the blushes of the morn, When fair Aurora did the east adorn ; 1 Var. our. 2 Var. twining. 3 Var. the. 4 Var. raging. 5 Var. melodious. 6 Var. to. 7 The lines of Corydon, ' Oft have I sung, ■Vi. <* - *.%.. ^ \0 o^ v.n. "A. 81 ,0 : '>°\ v /' v\o x>.# ." i' 1 ' * ,^ V Deacidified using the Bookkeeper process. Neutralizing agent: Magnesium Oxide (724) 779-2111 >%. 3? % * ,s> 5.* % 'V- A^ 'V rS.* °o '"o $ u <: ,V8 « r*> * « n ! \N a\ .# I .. % ** N < LIBRA RY OF CONGRESS 014 159 008 A ft H I ■ H^p