To the above letter, the following is Miss Williams's answer: 7th August 1789. DEAR SIR-I do not lose a moment in returning you my sincere acknowledgments for your letter, and your criticism on my poem, which is a very flattering proof that you have read it with attention. I think your objections are perfectly just, except in one instance. You have, indeed, been very profuse of panegyric on my little performance. A much less portion of applause from you would have been gratifying to me, since I think its value depends entirely upon the source from whence it proceeds-the incense of praise, like other incense, is more grateful from the quality than the quantity of the odour. I hope you still cultivate the pleasures of poetry, which are precious even independent of the rewards of fame. Perhaps the most valuable property of poetry is, its power of disengaging the mind from worldly cares, and leading the imagination to the richest springs of intellectual enjoyment; since, however frequently life may be checkered with gloomy scenes, those who truly love the Muse can always find one little path adorned with flowers and cheered by sunshine. In his rides between Nithsdale and Ayrshire, Burns had several times visited an honest yeoman, named Logan, styled 'of Knockshinnoch,' but residing at Laight, both places being in the beautiful little Vale of the Afton, a tributary of the Nith. Another gentleman, styled Johnston of Clackleith, residing in the same valley, had likewise formed the acquaintance of Burns on these occasions. Our bard now addresses a letter to 'auld Knockshinnoch,' enclosing a new poem, a copy of which he desired to be given to Clackleith. TO MR JOHN LOGAN. ELLISLAND, near Dumfries, 7th Aug. 1789. DEAR SIR-I intended to have written you long ere now, and as I told you I had gotten three stanzas and a half on my way in a poetic epistle to you; but that old enemy of all good works, the devil, threw me into a prosaic mire, and for the soul of me I cannot get out of it. I dare not write you a long letter, as I am going to intrude on your time with a long ballad. I have, as you will shortly see, finished The Kirk's Alarm; but, now that it is done, and that I have laughed once or twice at the conceits in some of the stanzas, I am determined not to let it get into the public; so I send you this copy, the first that I have sent to Ayrshire, except some few of the stanzas which I wrote off in embryo for Gavin Hamilton, under the express provision and request that you will only read it to a few of us, and do not on any account give or permit to be taken any copy of the ballad. If I could be of any service to Dr M'Gill, I would do it, though it should be at a much greater expense than irritating a few bigoted priests; but I am afraid serving him in his present embarras is a task too hard for me. I have enemies enow, God knows, though I do not wantonly add to the number. Still, as I think there is some merit in two or three of the thoughts, I send it to you as a small, but sincere testimony how much, and with what respectful esteem, I am, dear sir, your obliged humble servant, R. B. The poem alluded to was a satire evoked by an ecclesiastical case in which Burns's heterodox tendencies and personal friendships were deeply interested. Dr William M'Gill, one of the two ministers conjoined in the parochial charge of Ayr, had published in 1786, A Practical Essay on the Death of Jesus Christ, in Two Parts; containing, 1, the History, 2, the Doctrine of his Death, which was supposed to inculcate principles of both Arian and Socinian character, and provoked many severe censures from the more rigid party of the church. M'Gill remained silent under the attacks of his opponents, till Dr William Peebles of Newton-upon-Ayr, a neighbour, and hitherto a friend, in preaching a centenary sermon on the Revolution, November 5, 1788, denounced the essay as heretical, and the author as one who with one hand received the privileges of the church, while with the other he was endeavouring to plunge the keenest poniard into her heart.' M'Gill published a defence, which led, in April 1789, to the introduction of the case into the presbyterial court of Ayr, and subsequently into that of the synod of Glasgow and Ayr. Meanwhile, the public out of doors was agitating the question with the keenest interest, and the strife of the liberal and zealous parties in the church had reached a painful extreme. It was now that Burns took up the pen in behalf of M'Gill, whom he looked on as a worthy and enlightened person suffering an unworthy persecution. THE KIRK'S ALARM. Orthodox, orthodox, Wha believe in John Knox, Let me sound an alarm to your conscience; Has been blawn in the wast, That what is not sense must be nonsense, Dr Mac,' Dr Mac, You should stretch on a rack, Is heretic, damnable error. Town of Ayr, town of Ayr, To meddle wi' mischief a-brewing; To the church's relief, And Orator Bob' is its ruin. 1 Dr M'Gill. The essay published by this reverend gentleman is described by one of his surviving friends as a work of considerable ability. He was a Socinian in principle, though not a disciple of Socinus, none of whose works he had ever read. In his personal and domestic character, he was a strange mixture of simplicity and stoicism. He seldom smiled, but often set the table in a roar by his quaint remarks. He was inflexibly regular in the distribution of his time: he studied so much every day, and took his walk at the same hour in all kinds of weather. He played at golf a whole twelvemonth without the omission of a single week-day, except the three on which there are religious services at the time of the communion. His views of many of the dispensations of Providence were widely different from those of the bulk of society. A friend told him of an old clergyman, an early companion of his own, who, having entered the pulpit in his canonicals, and being about to commence service, fell back and expired in a moment. Dr M'Gill clapped his hands together, and said: 'That was very desirable; he lived all the days of his life.' The morning after a domestic calamity of the most harrowing kind, the reverend doctor, to the surprise of his flock, officiated in church with his usual serenity. He conversed on self-murder with the coolness of a Roman philosopher. One day, when he was in his study examining a huge folio, with his back to the door, and only the writer of these notes in his presence, a stranger suddenly walked in-a singular being named Macrae, who had written a translation of the Bible, and now wandered through the country as an interpreter of dreams. Without preface or introduction, the intruder exclaimed: 'Dr M'Gill, I'm a phenomenon!' The doctor looked round, and the expression of the countenances of the two originals would have formed a subject for the pencil of Hogarth. When Dr M'Gill's case first came before the synod, the magistrates of Ayr published an advertisement in the newspapers, bearing a warm testimony to the excellence of the defender's character, and their appreciation of his services as a pastor. 3 John Ballantyne, Esq., banker, provost of Ayr, the prime mover, probably, in the testimony in favour of Dr M'Gill-the same individual to whom The Twa Brigs is dedicated. There could not have been a nobler instance of true benevolence and manly worth than that furnished by Provost Ballantyne. His hospitable mansion was known far and wide, and he was the friend of every liberal measure. At an election for the Ayr district of burghs, the delegate for Campbelton being detained by stormy weather, the Ayr electors, who had the casting-vote, were disposed to nominate their provost; but Mr Ballantyne disdained taking advantage of an accident, and caused the vote to be given for the person whom the Campbelton delegate was known to favour. ⚫ Mr Robert Aiken, writer in Ayr, to whom the Cottar's Saturday Night is inscribed. He exerted his powerful oratorical talents as agent for M'Gill in the presbytery and synod. 'The Rev. Dr William Dalrymple, senior minister of the collegiate charge of Ayr-a man of extraordinary benevolence and worth. It is related that, one day meeting an almost naked beggar in the country, he took off his coat and waistcoat, gave the latter to the poor man, then put on his coat, buttoned it up, and walked home. He died in 1814, after having fulfilled his duties for sixty-eight years. If we are to believe the poet, his views respecting the Trinity had not been strictly orthodox. 2 The Rev. John Russell, celebrated in The Holy Fair. 3 The Rev. James Mackinlay, minister of Kilmarnock, the hero of The Ordination. The Rev. Mr Alexander Moodie, of Riccarton, one of the heroes of The Twa Herds. 5 The Rev. Mr Auld, of Mauchline. The clerk was Mr Gavin Hamilton, whose defence against the charges preferred by Mr Auld, as elsewhere stated, had occasioned much trouble to this clergyman. Davie Bluster,' Davie Bluster, If the ass was the king of the brutes. Jamy Goose, Jamy Goose, He has cooper'd and cawt a wrong pin in 't. empty praise manners The Rev. Dr Peebles. He had excited some ridicule by a line in a poem on the Centenary of the Revolution: 'And bound in Liberty's endearing chain.' The poetry of this gentleman is said to have been indifferent. He attempted wit in private conversation with no better success. * Dr Andrew Mitchell, Monkton. Extreme love of money, and a strange confusion of ideas, characterised this presbyter. In his prayer for the royal family, he would express himself thus: 'Bless the King-his Majesty the Queen-her Majesty the Prince of Wales.' The word chemistry he pronounced in three different ways-hemistry, shemistry, and tchemistry—but never by any chance in the right way. Notwithstanding the antipathy he could scarcely help feeling towards Burns, one of the poet's comic verses would make him laugh heartily, and confess that, after all, he was a droll fellow.' |