For my part, I look on Mr. Allan's choosing my favourite poem for his subject, to be one of the highest compliments I have ever received. So may no ruffian feeling in thy breast, Or pity's notes, in luxury of tears, As modest want the tale of woe reveals; While conscious virtue all the strain endears, And heaven-born piety her sanction seals. No. LIII. MR. THOMSON TO THE POET. MY DEAR SIR, Edinburgh, 10th Aug. 1794. I owe you an apology for having so long deI am quite vexed at Pleyel's being cooped up layed to acknowledge the favour of your last. in France, as it will put an entire stop to our I fear it will be as you say, I shall have no work. Now, and for six or seven months, I more songs from Pleyel till France and we are shall be quite in song, as you shall see by and friends; but, nevertheless, I am very desirous by. I got an air, pretty enough, composed by to be prepared with the poetry, and as the seaLady Elizabeth Heron of Heron, which she son approaches in which your muse of Coila vicalls The Banks of Cree. Cree is a beautiful sits you, I trust I shall, as formerly, be frequentromantic stream: and as her Ladyship is a par-ly gratified with the result of your amorous and ticular friend of mine, I have written the foltender interviews! lowing song to it. No. LIV. THE POET TO MR. THOMSON. 30th August, 1794. THE last evening, as I was straying out and thinking of, O'er the hills and far awa, 1 spun the following stanza for it; but whether my spinning will deserve to be laid up in store like the precious thread of the silk-worm, or brushed to the devil, like the vile manufacture of the spider, I leave, my dear Sir, to your usual candid criticism. I was pleased with several lines in it at first; but I own, that now, it appears rather a flimsy business. This is just a hasty sketch, until I see whe ther it be worth a critique. We have many sailor songs; but, as far as I at present recollect, they are mostly the effusions of the jovial sailor, not the wailings of his love-lorn mistress. I must here make one sweet exception Sweet Annie frae the Sea-beach came Now for the song. (On the seas and far away, p. 219.) I give you leave to abuse this song, but do it in the spirit of christian meekness. (Ca' the yowes to the knowes, p. 195.) I shall give you my opinion of your other newly adopted songs my first scribbling fit. No. LV. MR. THOMSON TO THE POET. MY DEAR SIR, Edinburgh, 16th Sept. 1794. You have anticipated my opinion of, On the seas and far away; I do not think it one of your very happy productions, though it certainly contains stanzas that are worthy of all acceptation. No. LVIL THE SAME TO THE SAME. September, 1794. Do you know a blackguard Irish song, called Onagh's water-fall? The air is charming, The second is the least to my liking, parti- and I have often regretted the want of decent cularly "Bullets, spare my only joy.' Con- verses to it. It is too much, at least for my found the bullets! It might perhaps be object- humble rustic muse, to expect that every effort ed to the third verse, "At the starless mid- of hers shall have merit; still I think that it is night hour," that it has too much grandeur of better to have mediocre verses to a favourite imagery, and that greater simplicity of thought air, than none at all. would have better suited the character of a sai- all along proceeded in the Scots Musical MuOn this principle I have lor's sweetheart. The tune, it must be re-seum, and as that publication is in its last vomembered, is of the brisk, cheerful kind. Upon lume, I intend the following song, to the air the whole, therefore, in my humble opinion, the above mentioned, for that work. song would be better adapted to the tune, if it consisted only of the first and last verses, with the chorusses. No. LVI. THE POET TO MR. THOMSON. Sept. 1794. I SHALL withdraw my, On the seas and far way, altogether: it is unequal, and unworthy the work. Making a poem is like begetting a son: you cannot know whether you have a wise man or a fool, until you produce him to the world and try him. If it does not suit you as an editor, you may be pleased to have verses to it that you can sing before ladies. (Sae flaxen were her ringlets, p. 223.) Not to compare small things with great, my taste in music is like the mighty Frederick of Prussia's taste in painting: we are told that he frequently adinired what the connoisseurs decried, and always without any hypocrisy confessed his admiration. I am sensible that my taste in music must be inelegant and vulgar, because people of undisputed and cultivated taste can find no merit in my favourite tunes. Still, because I am cheaply pleased, is that any reason why I should deny myself that pleasure? For that reason I send you the offspring of Many of our strathspeys, ancient and modern, my brain, abortions and all; and, as such, pray give me the most exquisite enjoyment, where look over them, and forgive them, and burn you and other judges would probably be showthem. I am flattered at your adopting, Ca' ing disgust. For instance, I am just now makthe yowes to the knowes, as it was owing to me ing verses for Rothemurche's Rant, an air that ever it saw the light. About seven years which puts me in raptures; and in fact, unless ago I was well acquainted with a worthy little I be pleased with the tune, I never can make fellow of a clergyman, a Mr. Clunie, who sung verses to it. Here I have Clarke on my side, it charmingly; and, at my request, Mr. Clarke who is a judge that I will pit against any of took it down from his singing. When I gave you. it to Johnson, I added some stanzas to the song, both original and beautiful ;" and on his recom"Rothemurche," he says, "is an air and mended others, but still it will not do for mendation I have taken the first part of the you. In a solitary stroll which I took to-day, tune for a chorus, and the fourth or last part I tried my hand on a few pastoral lines, follow-for the song. I am but two stanzas deep in the ing up the idea of the chorus, which I would work, and possibly you may think, and justly, preserve. Here it is, with all its crudities and that the poetry is as little worth your attention imperfections on its head. as the music.* This Virgilian order of the poet should, I think, be disobeyed with respect to the song in question, the second stanza excepted.-Note by Mr. Thomson. Doctors diffcr. The objection to the second stanza does not strike the Editor.-CURRIE. I have begun anew, Let me in this ae night. Do you think that we ought to retain the old chorus? I think we must retain both the old • In the original follow here two stanzas of the song, "Lassie wi' the lint-white locks." all poetical. Retain Jeanie, therefore, and make the other Jamie, or any other that sounds agreeably. chorus and the first stanza of the old song. I Did you not once propose The Sow's tail to Geordie, as an air for your work? I am quite delighted with it; but I acknowledge that is no mark of its real excellence. I once set about verses for it, which I meant to be in the alternate way of a lover and his mistress chanting together. I have not the pleasure of knowing Mrs. Thomson's Christian name, and yours, I am afraid, is rather burlesque for sentiment, else I had meant to have made you the hero and heroine of the little piece. How do you like the following epigram, which I wrote the other day on a lovely young girl's recovery from a fever? Doctor Maxwell was the physician who seemingly saved her from the grave; and to him I address the following: TO DR. MAXWELL, ON MISS JESSY STAIG'S RECOVERY. MAXWELL, if merit here you crave, You save fair Jessy from the grave! God grant you patience with this stupid epistle One Your Ca' the yewes, is a precious little morIndeed I am perfectly astonished and charmed with the endless variety of your fancy. Here let me ask you, whether you never seriously turned your thoughts upon dramatic writing? That is a field worthy of your genius, in which it might shine forth in all its splendour. or two successful pieces upon the London stage would make your fortune. The rage at present is for musical dramas; few or none of those which have appeared since the Duenna, possess much poetical merit: there is little in the conduct of the fable, or in the dialogue, to interest the audience. They are chiefly vehicles for music and pageantry. I think you might produce a comic opera in three acts, which would live by the poetry, at the same time that it would be proper to take every assistance from her tuneful sister. Part of the songs of course would be to our favourite Scottish airs; the rest might be left with the London composer-Storace for Drury-lane, or Shield for Covent-garden; both of them very able and popular musicians. I believe that interest and manoeuvring are often necessary to have a drama brought on: so it may be with the namby pamby tribe of flowery scribblers; but were you to address Mr. Sheridan himself by letter, and send him a dramatic piece, I am persuaded he would, for the honour of genius, give it a fair and candid trial. Excuse me for obtruding these hints upon your consideration. No. LVIII. MR. THOMSON TO THE POET. I PERCEIVE the sprightly muse is now attendant upon her favourite poet, whose woodnotes wild are become as enchanting as ever. She says she lo'es me best o' a', is one of the pleasantest table songs I have seen, and henceforth shall be mine when the song is going round. I'll give Cunningham a copy; he can more powerfully proclaim its merit. I am far from undervaluing your taste for the strathspey music; on the contrary, I think it highly animating and agreeable, and that some of the strathspeys, when graced with such verses as yours, will make very pleasing songs, in the same way that rough Christians are tempered and softened by lovely woman, without whom, you know, they had been brutes. No. LIX. THE SAME TO THE SAME. Edinburgh, 14th October, 1794. THE last eight days have been devoted to the re-examination of the Scottish collections. I have read, and sung, and fiddled, and considered, till I am half blind and wholly stupid. The few airs I have added, are enclosed. Peter Pindar has at length sent me all the songs I expected from him, which are in general elegant and beautiful. Have you heard of a London collection of Scottish airs and songs, just published by Mr. Ritson, an Englishman. I shall send you a copy. His introductory essay on the subject is curious, and evinces great reading and research, but does not decide the question as to the origin of our melodies; though he shows clearly that Mr. Tytler, in his ingenious dissertation, has adduced no sort of proof of the hypothesis he wished to establish; I am clear for having the Sow's tail, parti-and that his classification of the airs, according cularly as you proposed verses to it are so extremely promising. Geordie, as you observe, is a name only fit for burlesque composition. Mrs. Thomson's name (Katharine) is not at certainly took it so far into consideration, as to have • Our bard had before received the same advice, and cast about for a subject. to the eras when they were composed, is mere love. (Now don t put any of your squinting fancy and conjecture. On John Pinkerton, Esq. constructions on this, or have any clishniaclaiver he has no mercy; but consigns him to damna- about it among our acquaintances.) I assure tion! He snarls at my publication, on the score you that to my lovely friend you are iraebted for of Pindar being engaged to write songs for it; many of your best songs of mine. Do you think uncandidly and unjustly leaving it to be inferred, that the sober gin-horse routine of existence, that the songs of Scottish writers had been sent could inspire a man with life, and love, and joy a-packing to make room for Peter's! Of you he could fire him with enthusiasm, or melt him speaks with some respect, but gives you a pass- with pathos, equal to the genius of your book? ing hit or two, for daring to dress up a little-No! no!-Whenever I want to be more than some old foolish songs for the Museum. His ordinary in song: to be in some degree equal sets of the Scottish airs are taken, he says, from to your diviner airs do you imagine I fast and the oldest collections and the best authorities: pray for the celestial emanation? Tout au many of them, however, have such a strange as- contraire! I have a glorious recipe; the very pect, and are so unlike the sets which are sung one that for his own use was invented by the diby every person of taste, old or young, in town vinity of healing and poetry, when erst he piped or country, that we can scarcely recognize the to the flocks of Admetus. I put myself in a refeatures of our favourites. By going to the oldest gimen of admiring a fine woman; and in proporcollections of our music, it does not follow that tion to the adorability of her charms, in proporwe find the melodies in their original state. tion you are delighted with my verses. The lightThese melodies had been preserved, we know ning of her eye is the godhead of Parnassus, and not how long, by oral communication, before be- the witchery of her smile the divinity of Heliing collected and printed; and as different per- con! sons sing the same air very differently, according to their accurate or confused recollection of it, so even supposing the first collectors to have possessed the industry, the taste and discernment to choose the best they could hear, (which is far from certain), still it must evidently be a chance, whether the collections exhibit any of the melodies in the state they were first composed. In selecting the melodies for my own collection, I have been as much guided by the living as by the dead. Where these differed, I preferred the sets that appeared to me the most simple and beautiful, and the most generally approved; and, without meaning any compliment to my own capability of choosing, or speaking of the pains I have taken, I flatter myself that my sets will be found equally freed from vulgar errors on the one hand, and affected graces on the other. No. LX. To descend to business; if you like my idea of, When she cam ben she bobbit, the following stanzas of mine, altered a little from what they were formerly when set to another air, may per haps do instead of worse stanzas. SAW YE MY PHELY. (Quasi dicat Phillis.) What O had I ne'er seen thee, my Phely! THE POET TO MR. THOMSON. MY DEAR FRIEND, 19th October, 1794. By this morning's post I have your list, and, in general, I highly approve of it. I shall, at more leisure, give you a critique on the whole. Now for a few miscellaneous remarks. Clarke goes to your town by to-day's fly, and Posie (in the Museum), is my composition: I wish you would call on him and take his opi- the air was taken down from Mrs. Burns' nion in general: you know his taste is a stand-voice. It is well known in the West Coun The ard. He will return here again in a week or try, but the old words are trash. By the bye, two; so, please do not miss asking for him. One take a look at the tune again, and tell me if you thing I hope he will do, persuade you to a- do not think it is the original from which Rosdopt my favourite, Craigie-burn-wood, in your selection: It is as great a favourite of his as of mine. The lady on whom it was made is one of the finest women in Scotland; and, in fact, (entre nous) is in a manner to me what Sterne's Eliza was to him-a mistress, a friend, or what you will, in the guileless simplicity of Platonic lin Castle is composed. The second part, in particular, for the first two or three bars, is exactly the old air. Strathallan's Lament is mine; the music is by our right-trusty and deservedly well-beloved, Allan Masterton. Donocht-head, is not mine: I would give ten pounds it were. It appeared first in the Edin burgh Herald; and came to the Editor of that Clarke has set a bass to it, and I intend prtpaper with the Newcastle post-mark on it.ting it into the Musical Museum. Here folWhistle o'er the lave o't is nine; the music low the verses I intend for it. an (The auld man, p. 225.). said to be by a John Bruce, a celebrated violin player in Dumfries, about the beginning of this century. This I know, Bruce, who was honest man, though a red-wud Highlandman, I would be obliged to you if you would proconstantly claimed it; and by all the old musi-cure me a sight of Ritson's collection of Engcal people here, is believed to be the author of it. lish songs, which you mention in your letter. Andrew and his cutty gun. The song to I will thank you for another information, and which this is set in the Museum, is mine; and that as speedily as you please: whether this was composed on Miss Euphemia Murray, of miserable drawling hotch-potch epistle has not Lintrose, commonly and deservedly called the completely tired you my correspondence? Flower of Strathmore. How long and dreary is the night. I met with some such words in a collection of songs somewhere, which I altered and enlarged; and to please you, and to suit your favourite air, have taken a stride or two across my room, and have arranged it anew, as you will find on the other page. (How long and dreary is the night, p. 205.) I of No. LXI. MR. THOMSON TO THE POET Edinburgh, 27th October, 1794. I AM sensible, my dear friend, that a genuine poet can no more exist without his mistress than Tell me how you like this. I differ from his meat. I wish I knew the adorable she, your idea of the expression of the tune. There whose bright eyes and witching smiles have so is, to me, a great deal of tenderness in it. You often enraptured the Scottish bard! that I might cannot, in my opinion, dispense with a bass to drink her sweet health when the toast is going your addenda airs. A lady of my acquaintance, round. Craigie-burn-wood, must certainly be a noted performer, plays and sings at the same adopted into my family, since she is the object time so charmingly, that I shall never bear to of the song; but in the name of decency, I must O to be lysee any of her songs sent into the world as na- beg a new chorus verse from you. ked as Mr. What-d'ye-call-um has done in his ing beyond thee, dearie, is perhaps a consumLondon collection.t mation to be wished, but will not do for singing in the company of ladies. The songs in your last will do you lasting credit, and suit the respective airs charmingly. I am perfectly of your opinion with respect to the additional airs. The idea of sending them into the world naked as they were born was ungenerous. They must all be clothed and made decent by our friend Clarke. I find I am anticipated by the friendly CunSince the above, I have been out in the coun-ningham, in sending your Ritson's Scottish coltry taking a dinner with a friend, where I met lection. Permit me, therefore, to present you with the lady whom I mentioned in the second with his English collection, which you will repage in this odds-and-ends of a letter. As usu-ceive by the coach. I do not find his historica al, I got into song; and returning home, I composed the following. I These English songs gravel me to death. have not that command of the language that have of my native tongue. I have been at Duncan Gray, to dress it in English, but all I can do is deplorably stupid. For instance : (Let not woman e'er complain, p. 209.) essay on Scottish song interesting. Your anecdotes and miscellaneous remarks will, I am sure, be much more so. Allan has just sketched a (Sleep'st thou, or wak'st thou, fairest creature, charming design from Maggie Lauder. She is p. 235.) dancing with such spirit as to electrify the piper, who seems almost dancing too, while he is playing with the most exquisite glee. I am much inclined to get a small copy, and to have it engraved in the style of Ritson's prints. P. S.-Pray, what do your anecdotes say concerning Maggie Lauder? was she a real personage, and of what rank? You would surely spier for her if you ca'd at Anstruther town. |