some attention has been paid to the elo- | springing out of solitary observation and quence of the senate and the bar, which in this, as in all other free governments, is productive of so much influence to the few who excel in it, yet little regard has been paid to the humbler exercise of speech in private conversation; an art that is of consequence to every description of persons under every form of government, and on which eloquence of every kind ought perhaps to be founded. The first requisite of every kind of elocution, a distinct utterance, is the offspring of much time and of long practice. Children are always defective in clear articulation, and so are young people, though in a less degree. What is called slurring in speech, prevails with some persons through life, especially in those who are taciturn. Articulation does not seem to reach its utmost degree of distinctness in men before the age of twenty, or upwards; in women it reaches this point somewhat earlier. Female occupations require much use of speech because they are duties in detail. Besides, their occupations being generally sedentary, the respiration is left at liberty. Their nerves being more delicate, their sensibility as well as fancy is more lively; the natural consequence of which is, a more frequent utterance of thought, a greater fluency of speech, and a distinct articulation at an earlier age. But in men who have not mingled early and familiarly with the world, though rich perhaps in knowledge, and clear in apprehension, it is often painful to observe the difficulty with which their ideas are communicated by speech, through the want of those habits that connect thoughts, words, and sounds together; which, when established, seem as if they had arisen spontaneously, but which, in truth, are the result of long and painful practice; and when analyzed, exhibit the phenomena of most curious and complicated association. Societies then, such as we have been describing, while they may be said to put each member in possession of the knowledge of all the rest, improve the powers of utterance; and by the collision of opinion, excite the faculties of reason and reflection. To those who wish to improve their minds in such intervals of labour as the condition of a peasant allows, this method of abbreviating instruction, may, under proper regulations, be highly useful. To the student, whose opinions, meditation, are seldom in the first instance correct, and which have, notwithstanding, while confined to himself, an increasing tendency to assume in his own eye the character of demonstrations, an association of this kind, where they may be examined as they arise, is of the utmost importance; since it may prevent those illusions of imagination, by which genius being bewildered, science is often debased, and error propagated through successive generations. And to men who have cultivated letters, or general science in the course of their education, but who are engaged in the active occupations of life, and no longer able to devote to study or to books the time requisite for improving or preserving their acquisitions, associations of this kind, where the mind may unbend from its usual cares in discussions of literature or science, afford the most pleasing, the most useful, and the most rational of gratifications.* Whether in the humble societies of which he was a member, Burns acquired much direct information, may perhaps be questioned. It cannot however be doubted, that by collision, the faculties of his mind would be excited; that by practice his habits of enunciation would be es tablished; and thus we have some expla nation of that early command of words and of expression which enabled him to pour forth his thoughts in language not unworthy of his genius, and which, of all his endowments, seemed, on his appearance in Edinburgh, the most extraordinary. For associations of a literary na * When letters and philosophy were cultivated in ancient Greece, the press had not multiplied the tablets habit of studying as it were in common. Poets were of learning and science, and necessity produced the found reciting their own verses in public assemblies in public schools only philosophers delivered their spe culations. The taste of the hearers, the ingenuity of the scholars, were employed in appreciating and examining the works of fancy and of speculation sub it ted to their consideration, and the irrevocable words well as the sentiments, were again and again retouched were not given to the world before the composition, as and improved. Death alone put the last seal on the labours of genius. Hence, perhaps, may be in part explained the extraordinary art and skill with which the monuments of Grecian literature that remains to us, appear to have been constructed. It appears that our Poet made more preparation than might be supposed, for the discussion of the socie ty of Tarbolton. There were found some detached memoranda, evidently prepared for these meetings and, amongst others, the heads of a speech on the ques ture, our poet acquired a considerable re- | be a superior grace, it is equally sincere lish; and happy had it been for him, af- as fervent. ter he emerged from the condition of a peasant, if fortune had permitted him to enjoy them in the degree of which he was capable, so as to have fortified his principles of virtue by the purification of his taste; and given to the energies of his mind habits of exertion that might have excluded other associations, in which it must be acknowledged they were too of ten wasted, as well as debased. "The scenery was nearly taken from real life, though I dare say, Madam, you do not recollect it, as I believe you scarcely noticed the poetic reveur as he wandered by you. I had roved out as chance directed, in the favourite haunts of my muse on the banks of the Ayr, to view nature in all the gayety of the vernal year. The evening sun was flaming over the distant western hills; not a breath The whole course of the Ayr is fine; stirred the crimson opening blossom, or but the banks of that river, as it bends to the verdant spreading leaf.-It was a the eastward above Mauchline, are sin- golden moment for a poetic heart. I gularly beautiful, and they were frequent- listened to the feathered warblers, poured, as may be imagined, by our poet in ing their harmony on every hand, with a his solitary walks. Here the muse often congenial kindred regard, and frequently visited him. In one of these wanderings, turned out of my path, lest I should dishe met among the woods a celebrated turb their little songs, or frighten them beauty of the west of Scotland: a lady, to another station. Surely, said I to myof whom it is said, that the charms of herself, he must be a wretch indeed, who, person correspond with the character of her mind. This incident gave rise, as might be expected, to a poem, of which an account will be found in the following letter, in which he inclosed it to the object of his inspiration : TO MISS regardless of your harmonious endeavours to please him, can eye your elusive flights to discover your secret recesses, and to rob you of all the property nature gives you, your dearest comforts, your helpless nestlings. Even the hoary hawthorn twig that shot across the way, what heart at such a time but must have been interested in its welfare and wished it preserved from the rudely Mossgiel, 18th November, 1786. browsing cattle, or the withering eastern "MADAM,-Poets are such outré be- blast? Such was the scene-and such the hour, when, in a corner of my prosings, so much the children of wayward fancy and capricious whim, that I believe pect, I spied one of the fairest pieces of the world generally allows them a larger Nature's workmanship that ever crowned latitude in the laws of propriety, than the a poetic landscape, or met a poet's eye: sober sons of judgment and prudence. I those visionary bards excepted who hold mention this as an apology for the liber-commerce with aerial beings! Had Caties that a nameless stranger has taken lumny and Villany taken my walk, they with you in the inclosed poem, which he had at that moment sworn eternal peace begs leave to present you with. Whe- with such an object. ther it has poetical merit any way worthy of the theme, I am not the proper judge; but it is the best my abilities can produce; and, what to a good heart will perhaps tion mentioned in p. 29, in which, as might be expected, he takes the imprudent side of the question. The fol lowing may serve as a farther specimen of the ques tions debated in the society at Tarbolton:- Whether do we derive more happiness from love or friendship? Whether between friends, who have no reason to doubt each other's friendship, there should be any reserve? Whether is the savage man, or the peasant of a civilized country, in the most happy situation?-Whether is a young man of the lower ranks of life likeliest to be hap Py, who has got a good education, and his mind well informed, or he who has just the education and informa tion of those around him? "What an hour of inspiration for a poet! It would have raised plain, dull, prose into metaphor and mea historic sure. "The enclosed song was the work of my return home; and perhaps it but poorly answers what might have been expected from such a scene. * "I have the honour to be, Madam, Your most obedient, and very humble servant, "ROBERT BURNS." The song entitled the Lass of Ballochmyle. In the manuscript book in which our | derer nature, the history of which it would be improper to reveal, were it even in our power; and the traces of which will soon be discoverable only in those strains of nature and sensibility to which they gave birth. The song entitled Highland Mary, is known to relate to one of these attachments. "It was written," says our bard, " on one of the most interesting passages of my youthful days." The object of this passion died early in life, and the impression left on the mind of Burns seems to have been deep and lasting. Several years afterwards, when he was removed to Nithsdale, he gave vent to the sensibility of his recollections in that impassioned poem, which is addressed To Mary, in Heaven! poet has recounted this incident, and into wnicn tne letter and poem are copied, he complains that the lady made no reply to his effusions, and this appears to have wounded his self-love. It is not, however, difficult to find an excuse for her silence. Burns was at that time little known; and where known at all, noted rather for the wild strength of his humour, than for those strains of tenderness in which he afterwards so much excelled. To the lady herself his name had perhaps never been mentioned, and of such a poem she might not consider herself as the proper judge. Her modesty might prevent her from perceiving that the muse of Tibullus breathed in this nameless poet, and that her beauty was awakening strains destined to immortality, on the bank of the Ayr. It may be conceived, also, that sup-self, by his brother, and by his tutor, these posing the verse duly appreciated, delica- additions are necessary, in order that the cy might find it difficult to express its ac- reader may see his character in its variknowledgments. The fervent imagina-ous aspects, and may have an opportunity of forming a just notion of the variety, as well as of the power of his original genius.* tion of the rustic bard possessed more of tenderness than of respect. Instead of raising himself to the condition of the object of his admiration, he presumed to reduce her to his own, and to strain this high-born beauty to his daring bosom. It is true, Burns might have found precedents for such freedom among the poets of Greece and Rome, and indeed of every country. And it is not to be denied, that lovely women have generally submitted to this sort of profanation with patience, and even with good humour. To what purpose is it to repine at a misfortune which is the necessary consequence of their own charms, or to remonstrate with a description of men who are incapable of control? "The lunatic, the lover, and the poet, Are of imagination all compact." To the delineations of the poet by him * The history of the poems formerly printed, will be found in the Appendix to this volume. It is inserted in the words of Gilbert Burns, who, in a letter address the friends which Robert's talents procured him before ed to the Editor, has given the following account of he left Ayrshire, or attracted the notice of the world. "The farm of Mossgiel, at the time of our coming to it, (Martinmas, 1783,) was the property of the Earl of Loudon, but was held in tack by Mr. Gavin Hamilton, writer in Mauchline, from whom we had our bargain; who had thus an opportunity of knowing, and showing a sincere regard for my brother, before he knew that he was a poet. The poet's estimation of him, and the strong outlines of his character, may be collected from the dedication to this gentleman. When the publi cation was begun, Mr. H. entered very warmly into its interests, and promoted the subscription very exten sively. Mr. Robert Aiken, writer in Ayr, is a man of worth and taste, of warm affections, and connected with a most respectable circle of friends and relations It is to this gentleman The Cotter's Saturday NightTM inscribed. The poems of my brother which I have forthey were quickly known, and well received in the exmerly mentioned, no sooner came into his hands, than tensive circle of Mr. Aiken's friends, which gave them a sort of currency, necessary in this wise world, even for the good reception of things valuable in themselves. The sensibility of our bard's temper, But Mr. Aiken not only admired the poet; as soon as and the force of his imagination, exposed he became acquainted with him, he showed the warmhim in a particular manner to the impres-est regard for the man, and did every thing in his pow sions of beauty; and these qualities, united to his impassioned eloquence, gave in turn a powerful influence over the female. heart. The Banks of the Ayr formed the scene of youthful passions of a still ten It may be easily presumed, that the beautiful nymph of Ballochmyle, whoever she may have been, did not reject with scorn the adorations of our poet, though she received them with silent modesty and dignified reserve. er to forward his interest and respectability. The Epistle to a Young Friend was addressed to this gen tleman's son, Mr. A. H. Aiken, now of Liverpool. He was the oldest of a young family, who were taught to receive my brother with respect, as a man of genius, and their father's friend. We have dwelt the longer on the early part of his life,because it is the least known; and because, as has already been mentioned, this part of his history is connected with some views of the condition and manners of the humblest ranks of society, hitherto little observed, and which will perhaps be found neither useless nor uninteresting. About the time of his leaving his native county, his correspondence commences; and in the series of letters now given to the world, the chief incidents of the remaining part of his life will be found. This authentic, though melancholy record, will supersede in future the necessity of any extended narrative. $5 Burns set out for Edinburgh in the behalf of him and his family, of which, were it proper, I could give many instances. Robert was on the point of setting out for Edinburgh before Mrs. Dunlop had heard of him. About the time of my brother's pub "The Brigs of Ayr is inscribed to John Ballentine Esq. banker in Ayr; one of those gentlemen to whom my brother was introduced by Mr. Aiken. He interested himself very warmly in my brother's concerns, and constantly showed the greatest friendship and at-lishing in Kilmarnock, she had been afflicted with a tachment to him. When the Kilmarnock edition was all sold off, and a considerable demand pointed out the propriety of publishing a second edition, Mr. Wilson, who had printed the first, was asked if he would print the second, and take his chance of being paid from the first sale. This he declined, and when this came to Mr. Ballentine's knowledge, he generously offered to accommodate Robert with what money he might need for that purpose; but advised him to go to Edinburgh, as the fittest place for publishing. When he did go to Edinburgh, his friends advised him to publish again by subscription, so that he did not need to accept this offer. Mr. William Parker, merchant in Kilmarnock was a subscriber for thirty five copies of the Kilmarnock edition. This may perhaps appear not deserving of notice here; but if the comparative obscurity of the poet, at this period, be taken into consideration, it appears to me a greater effort of generosity, than many things which appear more brilliant in my brother's future history. "Mr. Robert Muir, merchant in Kilmarnock, was one of those friends Robert's poetry had procured him, and one who was dear to his heart. This gentleman had no very great fortune, or long line of dignified ancestry; but what Robert says, of Captain Matthew Henderson, might be said of him with great propriety, that he held the patent of his honours immediately from Almighty God. Nature had indeed marked him a gentleman in the most legible characters. He died while yet a young man, soon after the publication of my brother's first Edinburgh edition, Sir William Cunningham of Robertland, paid a very flattering attention, and showed a good deal of friendship for the poet. Before his going to Edinburgh, as well as after, Robert seemed peculiarly pleased with Professor Stewart's friendship and conversation. "But of all the friendships which Robert acquired in Ayrshire and elsewhere, none seemed more agreeable to him than that of Mrs. Dunlop, of Dunlop; nor any which has been more uniformly and constantly exerted in Q long and severe illness, which had reduced her mind "Colonel Fullarton, who afterwards paid a very particular attention to the poet, was not in the country at the time of his first commencing author. At this distance of time, and in the hurry of a wet day, snatched from laborious occupations, I may have forgot some persons who ought to have been mentioned on this occasion; for which, if it come to my knowledge, I shall be heartily sorry." The friendship of Mrs. Dunlop was of particular value to Burns. This lady, daughter and sole heiress to Sir Thomas Wallace of Craigie, and lineal descendant of the illustrious Wallace, the first of Scottish war riors, possesses the qualities of mind suited to her high lineage. Preserving, in the decline of life, the generous affections of youth; her admiration of the poet was soon accompanied by a sincere friendship for the man which pursued him in after-life through good and evil which is continued to his infant family, now deprived report; in poverty, in sickness, and in sorrow; and of their parent. of the character to which they relate, and of the light which they throw on the situation and feelings of the writer, before his name was known to the public.* own manners and appearance exceeding | lamented friend, the late Basil, Lord every expectation that could have been Daer, happened to arrive at Catrine the formed of them, he soon became an object same day, and by the kindness and frankof general curiosity and admiration. The ness of his manners, left an impression on following circumstance contributed to the mind of the poet, which never was this in a considerable degree.-At the effaced. The verses I allude to are time when Burns arrived in Edinburgh, among the most imperfect of his pieces; the periodical paper, entitled The Loun- but a few stanzas may perhaps be an obger, was publishing, every Saturday pro-ject of curiosity to you, both on account ducing a successive number. His poems had attracted the notice of the gentlemen engaged in that undertaking, and the ninety-seventh number of those unequal, though frequently beautiful essays, is devoted to An Account of Robert Burns, the Ayrshire Ploughman, with extracts from his Poems, written by the elegant pen of Mr. Mackenzie.* The Lounger had an · extensive circulation among persons of taste and literature, not in Scotland only, but in various parts of England, to whose acquaintance therefore our bard was immediately introduced. The paper of Mr. Mackenzie was calculated to introduce him advantageously. The extracts are well selected; the criticisms and reflections are judicious as well as generous; and in the style and sentiments there is that happy delicacy, by which the writings of the author, are so eminently distinguished The extracts from Burns's poems in the ninety-seventh number of The Lounger were copied into the London as well as into many of the provincial papers, and the fame of our bard spread throughout the island. Of the manners, character, and conduct of Burns at this period, the following account has been given by Mr. Stewart, Professor of Moral Philosophy in the university of Edinburgh, in a letter to the editor, which he is particularly happy to have obtained permission to insert in these memoirs. "The first time I saw Robert Burns was on the 23d of October, 1768, when he dined at my house in Ayrshire, together with our common friend Mr. John Mackenzie, surgeon, in Mauchline, to whom I am indebted for the pleasure of his acquaintance. I am enabled to mention the date particularly, by some verses which Burns wrote after he returned home, and in which the day of our meeting is recorded.-My excellent and much This paper has been attributed, but improperly, to Lord Craig, one of the Scottish judges, author of the very interesting account of Michael Bruce in the 36th number of The Mirror. "I cannot positively say at this distance of time, whether at the period of our first acquaintance, the Kilmarnock edition of his poems had been just published, or was yet in the press. I suspect that the latter was the case, as I have still in my possession copies in his own hand writing, of some of his favourite performances; particularly of his ver ses "on turning up a Mouse with his plough ;"-" on the Mountain Daisy ;" and "the Lament." On my return to Edinburgh, I showed the volume, and mentioned what I knew of the author's history to several of my friends among others, to Mr. Henry Mackenzie, who first recommended him to public notice in the 97th number of The Lounger. and, "At this time Burns's prospects in life were so extremely gloomy, that he had seriously formed a plan of going out to Jamaica in a very humble situation, not however without lamenting that his want of patronage should force him to think of a project so repugnant to his feelings, when his ambition aimed at no higher an object than the station of an exciseman or gauger in his own country. "His manners were then, as they continued ever afterwards, simple, manly, and independent; strongly expressive of conscious genius and worth; but without any thing that indicated forwardness, ar rogance, or vanity. He took his share in conversation, but not more than belonged to him; and listened with apparent attention and deference on subjects where his want of education deprived him of the means of information. If there had been a little more gentleness and accommodation in his temper, he would, I think, have been still more interesting; but he • See the poem entitled "Lines on an Interview with Lord Daer"-Poems, p. 77. |