"What news? what news? thou auld beggar man ; With a hey lillelu and a how lo lan; What news? what news? by sea or land? And the birk and the brume blooms bonnie." "No news at all," said the auld beggar man, With a hey lillelu and a how lo lan, And she has been married thir nine nights past, And the birk and the brume blooms bonnie. "Into the bri-le-bed she winna gang, With a hey lillelu and a how lo lan; Till she hears tell of her ain Hynd Horn, And the birk and the brume blooms bonnie." "Wilt thou give to me thy begging coat, With a hey lillelu and a how lo lan, And I'll give to thee my scarlet cloak, And the birk and the brume blooms bonnie. "Wilt thou give to me thy begging staff, With a hey lillelu and a how lo lan, And I'll give to thee my good grey steed, And the birk and the brume blooms bonnie." The auld beggar man cast off his coat, And the birk and the brume blooms bonnie. The auld beggar man threw down his staff, And the birk and the brume blooms bonnie. The auld beggar man was bound for the mill, The auld beggar man was bound for to ride, When he came to the king's gate, With a hey lillelu and a how lo lan, These news unto the bonnie bride came, That at the yett there stands an auld man, "I'll go through nine fires so hot, With a hey lillelu and a how lo lan; But I'll give him a drink, for young Hynd Horn's sake, And the birk and the brume blooms bonnie." She went to the gate where the auld man did stand, With a hey lillelu and a how lo lan, And she gave him a drink out of her own hand, And the birk and the brume blooms bonnie. She gave him a cup out of her own hand, Or got thou it off a dead man's hand? And the birk and the brume blooms bunnie.” "I'll cast off my gowns of brown, With a hey lillelu and a how lo lan, And I'll follow thee from town to town, And the birk and the brume blooms bonnie. "I'll cast off my gowns of red, With a hey lillelu and a how lo lan, And the birk and the brume blooms bonnie.” And the birk and the brume blooms bonnie. "Thou need not cast off thy gowns of red, The bridegroom thought he had the bonnie bride wed. GENERAL CORRESPONDENCE. [THE letters of Burns extend over a large | portion of his life: they are varied, vigorous, and characteristic. They are addressed to persons of almost all conditions: a few are to humble farmers and little lairds: some to village shop-keepers and parish school-masters: a number are to clergymen: many to noblemen and ladies of beauty and rank, while a great variety are written to men of high literary eminence, such as Tytler, Blair, Stewart, Alison, and Moore. They contain much of the personal history of the Poet: exhibit numerous sketches of character, pictures of manners, and views of domestic life; with many of those vivid touches and original sallies which communicate to prose the feeling and sentiment of poetry. Almost all the letters which Burns wrote will be found in this edition of his works: from that first humble one which he addressed to his father, on the darkness of his future prospects, till that last and most mournful one written to James Armour, at Mauchline, begging his mother-in-law to hasten to Dumfries, for that his wife was about to be confined, and he was himself dying. "The letters of Burns," says Sir Walter Scott, 66 although containing passages of great eloquence, bear, occasionally, strong marks of affectation, with a tincture of pedantry, rather foreign to the Bard's character and education. They are written in various tones of feeling, and modes of mind: in some instances exhibiting all the force of the writer's talents, in others only valuable because they bear his signature." Another critical judge has delivered a much sterner opinion.-"The prose works of Burns," says Jeffrey, "consist almost entirely of his letters. They bear, as well as his poetry, the seal and impress of his genius: but they contain much more bad taste, and are written with far more apparent labour. His poetry was almost all written primarily from feeling, and only secondarily from ambition. His letters seem to have been nearly all composed as exercises, and for display. There are few of them written with simplicity or plainness: and, [And are they not valuable inasmuch as they do bear that signature? The devotion with which the memory of Burns is cherished by his countrymen has rendered the meanest trifle which he penned inestimable in their eyes, and the though natural enough as to the sentiment, they are, generally, very strained and elaborate in the expression. A very great proportion of them, too, relate neither to facts nor feelings peculiarly connected with the author or his correspondent, but are made up of general declamation, moral reflections, and vague discussionsall evidently composed for the sake of effect." "In the critic's almost wholesale condemnation of the prose of Burns," says Cunningham, "the world has not concurred: he sins, somewhat indeed, in the spirit of Jeffrey's description, but his errors are neither so serious nor so frequent as has been averred. In truth, his prose partakes largely of the character of his poetry: there is the same earnest vehemence of language: the same happy quickness of perception: the same mixture of the solemn with the sarcastic, and the humourous with the tender; and the presence everywhere of that ardent and penetrating spirit which sheds light and communicates importance to all it touches. He is occasionally turgid, it is true; neither is he so simple and unaffected in prose as he is in verse: but this is more the fault of his education than of his taste. His daily language was the dialect of his native land; and in that he expressed himself with almost miraculous clearness and precision: the language of his verse corresponds with that of his conversation: but the etiquette of his day required his letters to be in English; and in that, to him, almost foreign tongue, he now and then moved with little ease or grace. though a peasant, and labouring to express himself in a language alien to his lips, his letters yield not in interest to those of the ripest scholars of the age. He wants the colloquial ease of Cowper, but he is less minute and tedious: he lacks the withering irony of Byron, but he has more humour, and infinitely less of that pribble prabble' which deforms the noble lord's correspondence and memoranda. 6 Yet "Wilson has, perhaps, expressed the truest opinion of all our critics concerning the letters of Burns, though he certainly errs when he same may be said with regard to the lightest and most careless effusions of the gifted spirit whom we have quoted, now since he has been called to mingle with ancestral dust within the hallowed precincts of Dryburgh abbey.-MотHERWELL.] says that the Poet wrote many of them when "The prose writings of Burns consist almost tipsy-nay, intoxicated. He belonged, indeed, solely of his correspondence, and are therefore to days of hard drinking: Pitt sometimes reeled to be considered as presenting no sufficient criwhen he rose to discourse on the state of the terion of his powers. Epistolary effusions nation: Fox, it is averred, loved the bottle, being a sort of written conversation, participate though he contrived to stand steady; and She-in many of the advantages and defects of disridan, it is well known, perfumed his eloquence with wine. There is something like intoxication of feeling and sentiment in the letters of Burns; but in the wildest of them sense and genius predominate." course. They materially vary, both in subject and manner, with the character of the person addressed, to which the mind of their author for the moment assumes an affinity. To equals they are familiar and negligent, and to supe "The letters of Burns," observes Wilson, riors they can scarcely avoid that transition, to "are said to be too elaborate, the expression careful effort and studied correctness, which the more studied and artificial than belongs to that behaviour of the writer would undergo, whe species of composition. Now the truth is, entering the presence of those to whom h Burns never considered letter writing a spe- talents were his only introduction. Burs cies of composition' subject to certain rules of from the lowness of his origin, found himse taste and criticism. That had never occurred inferior in rank to all his correspondents, except to him, and so much the better. But hundreds, his father and brother; and, although the supe even of his most familiar letters, are perfectly riority of his genius should have done more artless, though still most eloquent, compositions. than correct this disparity of condition, ve Simple we may not call them, so rich are they between pretensions so incommensurable it is in fancy, so overflowing in feeling, and dashed difficult to produce a perfect equality. Burs off every other paragraph with the easy bold- evidently labours to reason himself into a feelness of a great master, conscious of his strength, ing of its completeness, but the very frequency even at times when, of all things in the world, of his efforts betrays his dissatisfaction w he was least solicitous about display: while their success, and he may therefore be cons some there are so solemn, so sacred, so reli- dered as writing under the influence of a des gious, that he who can read them with an un- to create or to preserve the admiration of t stirred heart can have no trust, no hope, in the correspondents. In this object he must car immortality of the soul." To this eloquent tainly have succeeded; for, if his letters ar commendation the heart of Scotland responds. deficient in some of the charms of epistolary Of his correspondence, Mr. Lockhart thus writing, the deficiency is supplied by other speaks with all the generous feeling of a con- If they occasionally fail in colloquial ease and genial and sympathising mind :"From the time that Burns settled himself of sentiment, and strength of expression. The simplicity, they abound in genius, in riches in Dumfries-shire, he appears to have conducted taste of Burns, according to the judgment with much care the extensive correspondence in Professor Stewart, was not sufficiently corres which his celebrity had engaged him; it is, and refined to relish chaste and artless p however, very necessary in judging of these but was captivated by writers who labour ther letters, and drawing inferences from their lan- periods into a pointed and antithetical briguage as to the real sentiments and opinions of liancy. What he preferred he would naturally the writer, to take into consideration the rank be ambitious to imitate; and though he mi and character of the persons to whom they were have chosen better models, yet those wh severally addressed, and the measure of inti- were his choice he has imitated with succes macy which really subsisted between them and Even in poetry, if we may judge from his fes the Poet. In his letters, as in his conversation, attempts in English heroic measure, he was Burns, in spite of all his pride, did something far from attaining, and perhaps from desiring Goldsmith, he who did write the series of letters addressed he is in his letters from aiming at the grace to Mrs. Dunlop, Dr. Moore, Mr. Dugald ease of Addison, or the severe simplicity Stewart, Miss Chalmers, and others, eminently Swift. Burns in his prose seems never to lay distinguished as these are by purity, and noble- forgot that he was a poet; but, though his st ness of feeling, and perfect propriety of lan- may be taxed with occasional luxuriance, and guage, presents himself, in other effusions of the with the admission of crowded and even I call his own. That he should have conde- is displayed in their invention and application. same class, in colours which it would be rash to compounded epithets, few will deny that genius scended to any such compliance must be regret- as few will deny that there is eloquence in the ted; but, in most cases, it would probably be quite harangue of an Indian Sachem, although it be unjust to push our censure further than this." not in the shape to which we are accustomed The critique upon his prose writings by Pro- nor pruned of its flowers by the critical exact fessor Walker, which we subjoin, is equally worthy of perusal : ness of a British orator. "It is to be observed, however, that Burs me has been generous and noble ! May every child of yours, in the hour of need, find such a friend as I shall teach every child of mine that their father found in you. ROBERT BURNS.' "The letters of Burns may on the whole be regarded as a valuable offering to the public. They are curious, as evidences of his genius, and interesting, as keys to his character; and they can scarcely fail to command the admiration of all who do not measure their pretensions by an unfair standard." could diversify his style with great address to suit the taste of his various correspondents: and that when he occasionally swells it into declamation, or stiffens it into pedantry, it is for the amusement of an individual whom he knew it would amuse, and should not be mistaken for the style which he thought most proper for the public. The letter to his father, for whom he had a deep veneration, and of whose applause he was no doubt desirous, is written with care, but with no exuberance. It is grave, pious, and gloomy, like the mind of the person who was to receive it. In his correspondence with Dr. Blair, Mr. Stewart, Mr. Graham, and Mr. "Of the following letters," says Currie, "a Erskine, his style has a respectful propriety considerable number were transmitted for puband a regulated vigour which shew a just con- lication by the individuals to whom they were ception of what became himself, and suited his addressed, but very few have been printed enrelation with the persons whom he addressed. tire. It will easily be believed that in a series He writes to Mr. Nicol in a vein of strong and of letters written without the least view to pubironical extravagance, which was congenial to lication, various passages were found unfit for the manner, and adapted to the taste, of his the press, from different considerations. It will friend. To his female correspondents, without also be readily supposed that our Poet, writing excepting the venerable Mrs. Dunlop, he is nearly at the same time, and under the same lively, and sometimes romantic; and a skilful feelings to different individuals, would somecritic may perceive his pen under the influence times fall into the same train of sentiment and of that tenderness for the feminine character forms of expression. To avoid, therefore, the which has been already noticed. In short, tediousness of such repetitions, it has been found through the whole collection, we see various necessary to mutilate many of the individual shades of gravity and care, or of sportive pomp letters, and sometimes to exscind parts of great and intentional affectation, according to the fa- delicacy-the unbridled effusions of panegyric miliarity which subsisted between the writer and regard. But though many of the letters and the person for whose exclusive perusal he are printed from originals furnished by the perwrote: and before we estimate the merit of any sons to whom they were addressed, others are single letter, we should know the character of printed from first draughts, or sketches, found both correspondents, and the measure of their among the papers of our Bard. Though, in intimacy. These remarks are suggested by the general, no man committed his thoughts to his objections of a distinguished critic, to a letter correspondents with less consideration or effort which was communicated to Mr. Cromek, with- than Burns, yet it appears that in some instances out its address, by the author of this critique, he was dissatisfied with his first essays, and and which occurs in the 'Reliques of Burns.' wrote out his communications in a fairer chaThe censure would perhaps have been softened, racter, or perhaps in more studied language. had the critic been aware that the timidity In the chaos of the manuscripts, some of the which he blames was no serious attempt at fine original sketches were found: and as these writing, but merely a playful effusion in mock- sketches, though less perfect, are fairly to be heroic, to divert a friend whom he had formerly considered as the offspring of his mind, where succeeded in diverting with similar sallies. they have seemed in themselves worthy of a Burns was sometimes happy in short compli- place in this volume, we have not hesitated to mentary addresses, of which a specimen is sub-insert them, though they may not always corjoined. It is inscribed on the blank-leaf of a book presented to Mrs. Graham of Fintray, from which it was copied, by that lady's permission : TO MRS. GRAHAM OF FINTRAY. 'It is probable, Madam, that this page may be read when the hand that now writes it shall be mouldering in the dust: may it then bear witness that I present you these volumes as a tribute of gratitude, on my part ardent and sincere, as your and Mr. Graham's goodness to respond exactly with the letters transmitted, which have been lost or withheld." Time, since the days of Currie, has removed many of the obstacles which influenced him in suppressing portions of these inimitable letters. Those passages omitted from personal considerations are now restored. A number of highly interesting original letters are in this edition, for the first time, given to the world, and it is believed the correspondence of the illustrious Bard is now presented in a more complete form than it has ever yet appeared.] not very much deceive myself, I could contentedly and gladly resign it. "The soul, uneasy, and confin'd at home, Rests and expatiates in a life to come." It is for this reason I am more pleased with the 15th, 16th, and 17th verses of the 7th chapter of Revelations than with any ten times as many verses in the whole Bible, and would not exchange the noble enthusiasm with which they inspire me, for all that this world has to offer. As for this world, I despair of ever making a figure in it. I am not formed for the bustle of the busy, nor the flutter of the gay. I shall never again be capable of entering into such scenes. Indeed, I am altogether unconcerned at the thoughts of this life. I foresee that po verty and obscurity probably await me, and I am in some measure prepared, and daily preparing, to meet them. I have but just time and paper to return you my grateful thanks for the lessons of virtue and piety you have given me, which were too much neglected at the time of giving them, but which I hope have been remembered ere it is yet too late. Present my dutiful respects to my mother, and my compl I HAVE purposely delayed writing, in the hope that I should have the pleasure of seeing you on New-Year's day; but work comes so hard upon us that I do not choose to be absent on that account, as well as for some other little reasons which I shall tell you at meeting. My health is nearly the same as when you were here, only my sleep is a little sounder, and on the whole I am rather better than otherwise, though I mend by very slow degrees. The weakness of my nerves has so debilitated my mind that I dare neither review past wants, nor look forward into futurity; for the least anxiety or perturbation in my breast produces most unhappy effects on my whole frame. Sometimes, indeed, when for an hour or two my spirits are alightened, I glimmer a little into futurity; but my principal, and indeed my only pleasurable, employment, is looking back-ments to Mr. and Mrs. Muir; and with wishwards and forwards in a moral and religious way; I am quite transported at the thought, that ere long, perhaps very soon, I shall bid an eternal adieu to all the pains, and uneasiness, and disquietudes of this weary life; for I assure you I am heartily tired of it; and, if I do [The verses of Scripture here alluded to are as follows:REV. vii. 15 Therefore are they before the throne of God, and serve him day and night in his temple; and he that sitteth on the throne shall dwell among them. 16 They shall hunger no more, neither thirst any more; neither shall the sun light on them, nor any heat. 17 For the Lamb, which is in the midst of the throne, shall feed them, and shall lead them unto living fountains of waters; and God shall wipe away all tears from their eyes.] † [When Burns wrote this touching letter to his father, he was toiling as a heckler in his unfortunate flax speculation, a dull as well as a dusty employment. On the fourth day after it was penned, the Poet and his relation Peacock were welcoining in the new year; a lighted candle touched some flax, and there was an end to all their hopes. Of William Burness, the father of the Poet, much has already been said: he was a worthy and pious man, desirous of maintaining right discipline in his house, and solicitous about the present and future welfare of his children. He was somewhat austere of manners; loved not boisterous jocularity; was rarely himself moved to laughter, and has been described as abstemious of speech. His early and continued misfortunes, though they saddened his brow, never affected the warm benevolence of his nature; he was liberal to the poor, and stern and self-denying only to himself. He is buried in Alloway kirk-yard, and his grave is visited by all who desire to pay homage to the fame of his eminent son.-CUNNINGHAM.] [It is no uncommon case for a small farmer, or even cotter, in Scotland, to have a son placed at some distant seminary of learning, or serving an apprenticeship to some metropolitan writer or tradesman; in which case, the youth is almost invariably supplied with oatmeal, the staple of the poor Scotsman's life-cheese, perhaps-oaten or barley bread, &c., from the home stores, by the intervention of the weekly or fortnightly carrier. There is an anecdote related of a gentleman, now high in consideration at the Scottish bar, whose father, a poor villager, in the upper ward of Lanark-shire, having contrived to get him placed at Glasgow university, supported him there chiefly by a weekly bag of oatmeal. On one occasion, the supply was stopped for nearly three weeks ing you a merry New-year's day, I shall coclude. I am, honoured sir, your dutiful son, ROBERT BURNESS. P.S. My meal is nearly out, but I am going to borrow till I get more.Į by a snow-storm. The young man's meal, like Burns's, wa out; but his pride, or his having no intimate acquaintance prevented him from borrowing. And this remarkable and powerful-minded man had all but perished before the d solving snow allowed a new stock of provisions to reach him. -CHAMBERS. "One of the most striking letters in the Collection,” (Cromek's Reliques of Burns,) says Jeffrey," and to us, of the most interesting, is the earliest of the whole series: being addressed to his father in 1781, six or seven years be fore his name had been heard out of his own family. The author was then a common flax-dresser, and his father a pat peasant; yet there is not one trait of vulgarity, either in thought or expression; but, on the contrary, a dignity and elevation of sentiment which must have been considered as of good omen in a youth of much higher condition.” "This letter," says Dr. Currie," written several years be fore the publication of his poems, when his name was obscure as his condition was humble, displays the philos phic melancholy which so generally forms the poetical tem perament, and that buoyant and ambitious spirit, which indicates a mind cautious of its strength. At Irvine, Bara at this time possessed a single room for his lodgings, rented perhaps at the rate of a shiiling a-week. He passed his days in constant labour, as a flax-dresser, and his food consisted chiefly of oatmeal, sent to him from his father's family. The store of this humble though wholesome nutriment, it appears, was nearly exhausted, and he was about to borrow till be should obtain a supply. Yet even in this situation his active imagination had formed to itself pictures of eminence and distinction. His despair of making a figure in the world shows how ardently he wished for honourable fame; and his contempt of life, founded on this despair, is the genuine ex. pression of a youthful and generous mind. In such a state of reflection and of suffering, the imagination of Burns naturally passed the dark boundaries of our earthly horizon. and rested on those beautiful creations of a better world, where there is neither thirst, nor hunger, nor sorrow, where happiness shall be in proportion to the capacity of happiness."] |