viewed the Cauldron Linn. Certainly there | Let Bourbon exult in his gay gilded lilies, are no affections of the mind more deadened by the influence of previous expectation, than those arising from the sight of natural objects, and more especially of objects of grandeur. Minute descriptions of scenes, of a sublime nature, should never be given to those who are about to view them, particularly if they are persons of great strength and sensibility of imagination. Language seldom or never conveys an adequate idea of such objects, but in the mind of a great poet it may excite a picture that far transcends them. The imagination of Burns might form a cataract in comparison with which the Cauldron Linn should seem the purling of a rill, and even the mighty falls of Niagara a humble cascade.* Whether these suggestions may assist in explaining our Bard's deficiency of impression on the occasion referred to, or whether it ought rather to be imputed to some pre-occupation, or indisposition of mind, we presume not to decide; but that he was in general feelingly alive to the beautiful or sublime in scenery, may be supported by irresistible evidence. It is true, this pleasure was greatly heightened in his mind, as might be expected, when combined with moral emotions of a kind with which it happily unites. That under this association Burns contemplated the scenery of the Devon with the eye of a genuine poet, the following lines, written at this very period, may bear witness. On a YOUNG LADY, residing on the banks of the small river Devon, in Clackmannanshire, but whose infant years were spent in Ayrshire. How pleasant the banks of the clear-winding Devon, With green spreading bushes, and flowers blooming fair; But the bonniest flower on the banks of the Devon Was once a sweet bud on the braes of the Ayr. Mild be the sun on this sweet blushing flower, In the gay rosy morn as it bathes in the dew! And gentle the fall of the soft vernal shower, That steals on the evening each leaf to renew. O spare the dear blossom, ye orient breezes, With chill hoary wing as ye usher the dawn! And far be thou distant, thou reptile that seizes The verdure and pride of the garden and lawn! This reasoning might be extended, with some modifications, to objects of sight of every kind. To have formed before-hand a distinct picture in the mind, of any interesting person or thing, generally lessens the pleasure of the first meeting with them. Though this picture be not superior, or even equal to the reality, still it can never be expected to be an exact resemblance; and the disappointment felt at finding it something different from what was expected, interrupts and diminishes the emotion that would otherwise be proIn such cases the second or third interview gives more pleasure than the first. See the Elements of the Philosophy of the Human Mind, by Mr Stewart, p. 484. Such publications as The Guide to the Lakes, where every scene is described in the most minute manner, and sometimes with considerable exaggeration of language, are in this point of view objectionable. duced. He The different journeys already mentioned did not satisfy the curiosity of Burns. About the beginning of September, he again set out from Edinburgh, on a more extended tour to the Highlands, in company with Mr Nicol, with whom he had contracted a particular intimacy, which lasted during the remainder of his life. Mr Nicol was of Dumfries-shire, of a descent equally humble with our poet. Like him he rose by the strength of his talents, and fell by the strength of his passions. died in the summer of 1797. Having received the elements of a classical instruction at his parish school, Mr Nicol made a very rapid and singular proficiency; and by early undertaking the office of an instructor himself, he acquired the means of entering himself at the University of Edinburgh. There he was first a student of theology, then a student of medicine, and was afterwards employed in the assistance and instruction of graduates in medicine, in those parts of their exercises in which the Latin language is employed. In this situation he was the contemporary and rival of the celebrated Dr Brown, whom he resembled in the particulars of his history, as well as in the leading features of his character. The office of assistant teacher in the High-School being vacant, it was, as usual, filled up by competition; and, in the face of some prejudices, and perhaps of some well-founded objections, Mr Nicol, by superior learning, carried it from all the other candidates. This office he filled at the period of which we speak. It is to be lamented; that an acquaintance with the writers of Greece and Rome does not always supply an original want of taste and correctness in manners and conduct; and where it fails of this effect, it sometimes inflames the native pride of temper, which treats with disdain those delicacies in which it has not learned to excel. It was thus with the fellowtraveller of Burns. Formed by nature in a model of great strength, neither his person nor his manners had any tincture of taste or elegance; and his coarseness was not compensated by that romantic sensibility, and those towering flights of imagination, which distinguished the conversation of Burns, in the blaze of whose genius all the deficiencies of his manners were absorbed and disappeared. Mr Nicol and our poet travelled in a postchaise, which they engaged for the journey, and passing through the heart of the Highlands, stretched northwards, about ten miles beyond Inverness. There they bent their course eastward, across the island, and returned by the shore of the German Sea to Edinburgh. In the course of this tour, some particulars of which will be found in a letter of our bard, page 18, they visited a number of remarkable scenes, and the imagination of Burns was constantly excited by the wild and sublime scenery through which he passed. Of this, several proofs may be found in the poems formerly printed.* Of the history of one of these poems, The humble Petition of Bruar Water, page 150, and of the bard's visit to Athole House, some particulars will be found in Letters No. 33. and No. 34: and by the favour of Mr Walker of Perth, then residing in the family of the Duke of Athole, we are enabled to give the following additional ac count. own native good sense for directing his beha- "Next day I took a ride with him through some of the most romantic parts of that neighbourhood, and was highly gratified by his conversation. As a specimen of his happiness of conception and strength of expression, I will mention a remark which he made on his fellow-traveller, who was walking at the time a few paces before us. He was a man of a robust but clumsy person; and while Burns was expressing to me the value he entertained for him, on account of his vigorous talents, although they were clouded at times by coarseness of maxners; "in short," he added, "his mind is like his body, he has a confounded strong in-knee'd sort of a soul." "On reaching Blair, he sent me notice of bis arrival (as I had been previously acquainted with him), and I hastened to meet him at the inn. The Duke, to whom he brought a letter of introduction, was from home; but the Duchess, being informed of his arrival, gave him an invitation to sup and sleep at Athole House. He accepted the invitation; but, as the hour of supper was at some distance, begged I would in the interval be his guide through the grounds. It was already growing dark; yet the softened, though faint and uncertain, view of their beauties, which the moonlight afforded us, seemed exactly suited to the state of his feelings at the time. I had often, like others, experienced the pleasures which arise from the sublime or elegant landscape, but I never saw those feelings so intense "Much attention was paid to Burns both as in Burns. When we reached a rustic hut before and after the Duke's return, of which on the river Tilt, where it is overhung by a he was perfectly sensible, without being vain; woody precipice, from which there is a noble and at his departure I recommended to him, water-fall, he threw himself on the heathy seat, as the most appropriate return he could make, and gave himself up to a tender, abstracted, to write some descriptive verses on any of the and voluptuous enthusiasm of imagination. scenes with which he had been so much deI cannot help thinking it might have been lighted. After leaving Blair, he, by the here that he conceived the idea of the follow- Duke's advice, visited the Falls of Bruar, and ing lines, which he afterwards introduced into in a few days I received a letter from Inverhis poem on Bruar Water, when only fancy-ness, with the verses enclosed.”† ing such a combination of objects as were now present to his eye. See "Lines on seeing some water-fowl in Loch Turit, a wild scene among the hills of Ochtertyre," p. 151. "Lines written with a Pencil over the chimney. piece, in the Iun at Kenmore, Taymouth," p..151. Lines written with a pencil standing by the Fall of Fyres, near Lochness," p. 152. In the preceding winter, Burns had been in company of the highest rank in Edinburgh; but this description of his manners is perfectly applicable to his first appearance in such society. It appears that the impression made by our poet on the noble family of Athole was in a high degree favourable; it is certain he was charmed with the reception he received from them, and he often mentioned the two days he spent at Athole-house as among the happiest of his life. He was warmly invited to prolong his stay, but sacrificed his inclinations to his engagement with Mr Nicol; which is the more to be regretted, as he would otherwise have been introduced to Mr Dundas (then daily expected on a visit to the Duke), a circumstance that might have had a favourable influence on Burns's future fortunes. At Athole-house, he met for the first time, Mr Graham of Fintry, to whom he was afterwards indebted for his office in the Excise. The letters and poems which he addressed to Mr Graham, bear testimony of his sensibility, and justify the supposition, that he would not have been deficient in gratitude had he been elevated to a situation better suited to his disposition and to his talents.* A few days after leaving Blair of Athole, our poet and his fellow-traveller arrived at Fochabers. In the course of the preceding winter Burns had been introduced to the Duchess of Gordon at Edinburgh, and presuming on this acquaintance, he proceeded to Gordon Castle, leaving Mr Nicol at the inn in the village. At the castle our poet was received with the utmost hospitality and kindness, and the family being about to sit down to dinner, he was invited to take his place at table as a matter of course. This invitation he accepted, and after drinking a few glasses of wine, he rose up and proposed to withdraw. On being pressed to stay, he mentioned, for the first time, his engagement with his fellowtraveller; and his noble host offering to send a servant to conduct Mr Nicol to the castle, Burns insisted on undertaking that office himself. He was, however, accompanied by a gentleman, a particular acquaintance of the Duke, by whom the invitation was delivered in all the forms of politeness. The invitation | came too late; the pride of Nicol was inflamed to a high degree of passion, by the neglect which he had already suffered. He had ordered the horses to be put to the carriage, being determined to proceed on his journey alone and they found him parading the streets of Fochabers, before the door of the inn, venting his anger on the postillion, for the slowness with which he obeyed his commands. As no explanation nor entreaty could change the purpose of his fellow-traveller, our poet was reduced to the necessity of separating from him entirely, or of instantly proceeding with him on their journey. He chose the last of these alternatives: and seating himself beside Nicol in the post-chaise, with mortification and regret, he turned his back on Gordon Castle, where he had promised himself some happy days. Sensible, however, of the great kindness of the noble family, he made the best return in his power, by the following poem.† II. Spicy forests ever gay, III. Wildly here, without control, By bonnie Castle-Gordon.* Burns remained at Edinburgh during the greater part of the winter, 1787-8, and again entered into the society and dissipation of that metropolis. It appears that, on the 31st day of December, he attended a meeting to cele brate the birth-day of the lineal descendant of the Scottish race of kings, the late unfortunate Whatever might Prince Charles Edward. have been the wish or purpose of the original institutors of this annual meeting, there is no reason to suppose that the gentlemen of which it was at this time composed, were not perfectly loyal to the king on the throne. It is not to be conceived that they entertained any hope of, any wish for, the restoration of the House of Stuart; but, over their sparkling wine, they indulged the generous feelings which the recollection of fallen greatness is calculated to inspire; and commemorated the heroic valour which strove to sustain it in vain -valour worthy of a nobler cause and a happier fortune. On this occasion our bard took upon himself the office of poet-laureate, and produced an ode, which, though deficient in the complicated rhythm and polished versification that such compositions require, might, on a fair competition, where energy of feelings and of expression were alone in question, have won the butt of Malmsey from the real laureate of that day. The following extracts may serve as a specimen : False flatterer, Hope, away! We solemnize this sorrowing natal day, To prove our loyal truth-we can no more; And, owning Heaven's mysterious sway Submissive, low, adore. These verses our poet composed to be sung to Morag, a Highland air of which he was extremely fond. In relating the incidents of our poet's life in Edinburgh, we ought to have mentioned the sentiments of respect and sympathy with which he traced out the grave of his predecessor Fergusson, over whose ashes, in the Canongate church-yard, he obtained leave to erect an humble monument, which will be viewed by reflecting minds with no common interest, and which will awake, in the bosom of kindred genius, many a high emotion.+ Neither should we pass over the continued friendship he experienced from a poet then living, the amiable and accomplished Blacklock. To his encouraging advice it was owing (as has already appeared) that Burns, instead of emigrating to the West Indies, repaired to Edinburgh. He received him there with all the ardour of affectionate admiration; he eagerly introduced him to the respectable circle of his friends; he consulted his interest; he blazoned his fame; he lavished upon him all the kindness of a generous and feeling heart, into which nothing selfish or envious ever found admittance. Among the friends whom he introduced to Burns was Mr Ramsay of Ochtertyre, to whom our poet paid a visit in the autumn of 1787, at his delightful retirement in the neighbourhood of Stirling, and on the banks of the Teith. Of this visit we have the following particulars : "I have been in the company of many men of genius," says Mr Ramsay, "some of them poets, but never witnessed such flashes of in * In the first part of this ode there is some beautiful imagery, which the poet afterwards interwove in a happier manner, in the Chevalier's Lament, (See p. 26.) But if there were no other reasons for omitting to print the entire poem, the want of originality would be suf. ficient. A considerable part of it is a kind of rant, for which, indeed, precedent may be cited in various other odes, but with which it is impossible to go along. See page 21, where the Epitaph will be found, &c. tellectual brightness as from him, the impulse of the moment, sparks of celestial fire! I never was more delighted, therefore, than with his company for two days, tete-a-tete. In a mixed company I should have made little of him; for, in the gamester's phrase, he did not always know when to play off and when to play on. I not only proposed to him the writing of a play similar to the Gentle Shepherd, qualem decet esse sororem, but Scottish georgics, a subject which Thomson has by no means exhausted in his Seasons. What beautiful landscapes of rural life and manners might not have been expected from a pencil so faithful and forcible as his, which could have exhibited scenes as familiar and interesting as those in the Gentle Shepherd, which every one who knows our swains in the unadultered state, instantly recognises as true to nature. But to have executed either of these plans, steadiness and abstraction from company were When I asked him wanting, not talents. whether the Edinburgh Literati had mended his poems by their criticisms, 'Sir,' said he, 'these gentlemen remind me of some spinsters in my country, who spin their thread so fine that it is neither fit for weft nor woof." He said he had not changed a word except one, to please Dr Blair."* Having settled with his publisher, Mr Creech, in February, 1788, Burns found himself master of nearly five hundred pounds, after discharging all his expenses. Two hundred pounds he immediately advanced to his brother Gilbert, who had taken upon himself the support of their aged mother, and was struggling with many difficulties in the farm of Mossgiel. With the remainder of this sum, and some further eventual profits from his poems, he determined on settling himself for life in the occupation of agriculture and took from Mr Miller of Dalswinton, the farm of Ellisland, on the banks of the river Nith, six miles above Dumfries, on which he entered at Whitsunday, 1788. Having been previously recommended to the Board of Excise, his name had been put on the list of candidates for the humble office of a gauger or exciseman; and he immediately applied to acquiring the information necessary for filling that office, when the honourable Board might judge it proper to employ him. He expected to be called into service in the district in which his farm was situated, and vainly hoped to unite with success the labours of the farmer with the duties of the exciseman. When Burns had in this manner arranged his plans for futurity, his generous heart turned to the object of his most ardent attachment, and listening to no considerations but *Extract of a letter from Mr Ramsay to the Editor. "This incorrigibility of Burns extended, however, only to his poems printed before he arrived in Edinburgh; for, in regard to his unpublished poems, he was amena ble to criticism, of which many proofs may be given." See some remarks on this subject, in Appendix. *those of honour and affection, he joined with her in a public declaration of marriage, thus legalizing their union, and rendering it permanent for life. Before Burns was known in Edinburgh, a specimen of his poetry had recommended him to Mr Miller of Dalswinton. Understand ing that he intended to resume the life of a farmer, Mr Miller had invited him in the spring of 1787, to view his estate in Nithsdale, offering him at the same time the choice of any of his farms out of lease, at such a rent as Burns and his friends might judge proper. It was not in the nature of Burns to take an undue advantage of the liberality of Mr Miller. He proceeded in this business, however, with more than usual deliberation. Having made choice of the farm of Ellisland, he employed two of his friends skilled in the value of land, to examine it, and, with their approbation, offered a rent to Mr Miller, which was immediately accepted. It was not convenient for Mrs Burns to remove immediately from Ayrshire, and our poet therefore took up his residence alone at Ellisland, to prepare for the reception of his wife and children, who joined him towards the end of the year. The situation in which Burns now found himself was calculated to awaken reflection. The different steps he had of late taken were in their nature highly important, and might be said to have, in some measure, fixed his destiny. He had become a husband and a father; he had engaged in the management of a considerable farm, a difficult and laborious under taking; in his success the happiness of his family was involved; it was time, therefore, to abandon the gaiety and dissipation of which he had been too much enamoured; to ponder seriously on the past, and to form virtuous resolutions respecting the future. That such was actually the state of his mind, the following extract from his common-place book may bear witness :-- "Ellisland, Sunday, 14th June, 1788. "This is now the third day that I have been in this country. Lord, what is man! What a bustling little bundle of passions, appetites, ideas, and fancies! and what a capricious kind of existence he has here! ... There is indeed an elsewhere, where, as Thomson says, virtue sole survives. "Tell us, ye dead: Will none of you in pity disclose the secret, What 'tis you are, and we must shortly be? A little time Will make us wise as you are, and as close." "I am such a coward in life, so tired of the service, that I would almost at any time, with Milton's Adam, gladly lay me in my mother's lap, and be at peace.' ་ "But a wife and children bind me to struggle with the stream, till some sudden squal shall overset the silly vessel, or in the listless return of years, its own craziness reduce it to a wreck. Farewell now to those giddy follies, those varnished vices, which, though halfsanctified by the bewitching levity of wit and humour, are at best but thriftless idling with the precious current of existence; nay, often poisoning the whole, that, like the plains of Jericho, the water is naught and the ground barren, and nothing short of a supernaturallygifted Elisha can ever after heal the evils. 66 Wedlock, the circumstance that buckles me hardest to care, if virtue and religion were to be any thing with me but names, was what in a few seasons I must have resolved on; in my present situation it was absolutely necessary. Humanity, generosity, honest pride of character, justice to my own happiness for after life, so far as it could depend (which it surely will a great deal) on internal peace; all these joined their warmest suffrages, their most powerful solicitations, with a rooted attachment, to urge the step I have taken. Nor have I any reason on her part to repent it.— I can fancy how, but have never seen where, I could have made a better choice. Come, then, let me act up to my favourite motto, that glorious passage in Young 'On reason build resolve, That column of true majesty in man!' " Under the impulse of these reflections, Burns immediately engaged in rebuilding the dwelling-house on his farm, which, in the state he found it, was inadequate to the accommodation of his family. On this occasion, he himself resumed at times the occupation of a labourer, and found neither his strength nor his skill impaired.-Pleased with surveying the grounds he was about to cultivate, and with the rearing of a building that should give shelter to his wife and children, and as he fondly hoped, to his own grey hairs, sentiments of independence buoyed up his mind, pictures of domestic content and peace rose on his imagination; and a few days passed away, as he himself informs us, the most tranquil, if not the happiest, which he had ever experienced. * Animated sentiments of any kind, almost always gave rise in our poet to some production of his muse. His sentiments on this occasion were in part expressed by the following vigorous and characteristic, though not very delicate verses: they are in imitation of an old ballad. I HAS a wife o' my ain, I hae a penny to spend, I am nae-body's lord, |