The duke bade us conquer, an' show'd us the way, An' mony a braw chiel we laid low on that day; Still again would I venture this auld trunk o'mine, Could our generals but lead or we fight like langsyne. But garrison duty is a' we can do, Though our arms are worn weak, yet our hearts are still true, We care na for dangers by land or by sea, For time has turn'd coward, an' no you and me; And though at the change we should sadly repine, Youth winna return, nor the strength o' langsyne. When after our conquests, it joys me to mind How thy Janet caressed thee, and my Meg was kind; They follow'd our fortunes, though ever so hard, Nor cared we for plunder when sic our reward; Even now they're resolved baith their hames to resign, And will follow us yet, for the sake o' langsyne, BARLEY BROTH. If tempers were put up to scal, Our Jwohn's wad bear a deuced preyce; He vowed 'twas barley i' the broth, "Upon my word," says I, "it's reyce." "I mek nea faut," our Jwohnny says, "The broth is gude and varra neyce; I only say- -it's barley broth." "You says what's wrang," says I, "it's reyce." "Did ever mortal hear the like! As if I hadn't sense to tell! Yet oh! gin Heaven in mercy soon To show me on my way, I come, I come, my Jamie dear! She said, and soon a deadly pale JOHN LOGAN. BORN 1748- DIED 1788. JOHN LOGAN, the friend and classmate of Michael Bruce, was born at Soutra, in the parish of Fala, Mid-Lothian, in 1748. He was the son of a small farmer, and like his college contemporary was intended for the ministry. Having received the rudiments of education at the village school of Gosford, East-Lothian, to which his father had removed, he was sent to the University of Edinburgh, and after completing his theological course he was, on the recommendation of Dr. Blair, engaged by Mr. Sinclair of Ulbster as tutor to his eldest son, afterwards Sir John Sinclair, author of the Code of Agriculture. He did not, however, long retain this situation. In 1770 Logan edited the poetical remains of his fellow-student Michael Bruce, and some years later claimed as his own the celebrated "Ode to the Cuckoo" and some other pieces which were introduced into the volume. Having been licensed to preach he greatly distinguished himself by his pulpit eloquence, and in 1773 was ordained minister of the parish of South Leith. Soon after he was appointed one of the General Assembly's committee for revising the psalmody of the Church, and composed several of the paraphrases in the collection now used in public worship. 1782 he published his poems, which were favourably received, and soon reached a second edition. In 1783 he produced the tragedy of "Runnimede," which was afterwards performed in the Edinburgh theatre. His parishioners were opposed to such an exercise of his talents, and this opposition, coupled with alleged occasional excesses in his life, induced him to resign his charge on receiving a moderate annuity out of the stipend. He then proceeded to London, where he devoted himself entirely to literary pursuits, contributing to various periodicals. In 1788 he published an able pamphlet entitled "A Review of the Charges against Mr. Warren Hastings," which produced an impression favourable to Hastings. Logan died, after a lingering illness, December 28, 1788, in the fortieth year of his age. Among Logan's manuscripts were several unfinished tragedies, thirty lectures on Roman history, portions of a periodical work, and a collection of sermons from which two volumes were published by his executors, which have since passed through several editions. They are warm and passionate, full of piety and fervour; and must have been highly impressive when delivered in Logan's impassioned and eloquent style. One act in the literary In 1779 he delivered a course of lectures in life of Logan - his publication of the poems Edinburgh on the philosophy of history, the of Michael Bruce-cannot be justified. He left substance of which he afterwards published; out several pieces by Bruce, and, as he states and this was followed by one of his lectures on in his preface, "to make up a miscellany" the manners and government of Asia. He ac- poems by different authors were inserted. The quired so much reputation as a lecturer that, best of these he claimed, and afterwards pubon a vacancy occurring in the professorship of lished as his own. The friends of Bruce, inhistory in the University of Edinburgh, he dignant at his conduct, have since endeavoured offered himself as a candidate, but was unsuc to disprove Logan's claim to them, and concessful, Alexander Fraser Tytler (Lord Wood-siderable uncertainty hangs over the question. houselee) being appointed to the chair. In It is unfavourable to the case of Logan that he retained some of the manuscripts of Bruce, | Logan. The truth here seems to be that and his conduct throughout the whole affair was careless and unsatisfactory. Bruce's friends also claim for him some of the hymns published by Logan as his own, and they show that the unfortunate young bard had applied himself to compositions of this kind, though none appeared in his works as published by Bruce was the founder, and Logan the perfecter, of these exquisite devotional strains; the former supplied stanzas which the latter extended into poems, imparting to the whole a finished elegance and beauty of diction which Bruce does not seem to have been capable of giving them. Nor will I court Lethean streams, Aerial music seems to mourn, I'll listen autumn's closing strain; Then woo the walks of youth again, And pour my sorrows o'er the untimely urn! THE PRAYER OF JACOB. O God of Abraham! by whose hand Our vows, our prayers, we now present Through each perplexing path of life O spread thy covering wings around, Now with the humble voice of prayer THE COMPLAINT OF NATURE. Few are thy days, and full of woe, Thy doom is written, "Dust thou art, Determined are the days that fly Alas! the little day of life Is shorter than a span; Yet black with thousand hidden ills To miserable man. Gay is thy morning; flattering hope Before its splendid hour, the cloud Behold! sad emblem of thy state, When chill the blast of winter blows, The flowers resign their sunny robes, Nipt by the year, the forest fades; The winter past, reviving flowers But man departs this earthly scene, No second spring shall e'er revive The inexorable doors of death What hand can e'er unfold? Who from the cerements of the tomb Can raise the human mould? The mighty flood that rolls along The days, the years, the ages, dark Back to the gates of light. So man departs the living scene, Where are our fathers? whither gone The mighty men of old? The patriarchs, prophets, princes, kings, In sacred books enroll'd? |