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KIRKCUDBRIGHT ELECTION, 1796.

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As soon as his ear got accustomed to the melody, Burns sat down, and in a very few minutes he produced the beautiful song:

OH, WERT THOU IN THE CAULD BLAST.

Oh, wert thou in the cauld blast

On yonder lea, on yonder lea,

My plaidie to the angry airt,

I'd shelter thee, I'd shelter thee:
Or did misfortune's bitter storms

Around thee blaw, around thee blaw,
Thy bield should be my bosom,

To share it a', to share it a'.

Or were I in the wildest waste,

Sae black and bare, sae black and bare,
The desert were a paradise,

If thou wert there, if thou wert there:
Or were I monarch o' the globe,

Wi' thee to reign, wi' thee to reign,
The brightest jewel in my crown

Wad be my queen, wad be my queen.

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The anecdote is a trivial one in itself; but we feel that the circumstances the deadly illness of the poet, the beneficent worth of Miss Lewars, and the reasons for his grateful desire of obliging her-give it a value. It is curious, and something more, to connect it with the subsequent musical fate of the song, for many years after, when Burns had become a star in memory's galaxy, and Jessy Lewars was spending her quiet years of widowhood over her book or her knitting in a little parlour in Maxwelltown, the verses attracted the regard of Felix Mendelssohn, who seems to have divined the peculiar feeling beyond all common love which Burns breathed through them. By that admirable artist, so like our great bard in a too early death, they were married to an air of exquisite pathos, 'such as the meeting soul may pierce.' Burns, Jessy Lewars, Felix Mendelssohn-genius, goodness, and tragic melancholy, all combined in one solemn and profoundly affecting association!

Parliament being dissolved in May, there arose a new contest for the Stewartry of Kirkcudbright. Mr Heron was opposed on this occasion by the Hon. Montgomery Stewart, a younger son of the Earl of Galloway. Burns, reduced in health as he was-confined, indeed, to a sick-chamber-could not remain an unconcerned onlooker. He produced a ballad at once more allegorical and more bitter against Mr Heron's opponents than any launched on the former occasion. There is a set of vagrant traffickers in

Scotland, somewhat superior to pedlers, and called Troggers. They deal in clothes and miscellaneous articles, and their wares are recognised under the general name of Troggin. Burns conceived a trogger, with the characters of the Galloway party for a stock.

AN EXCELLENT NEW SONG.

TUNE-Buy Broom Besoms.

Wha will buy my troggin,
Fine election ware;
Broken trade o' Broughton,

A' in high repair.

Buy braw troggin,

Frae the banks o' Dee;

Wha wants troggin

Let him come to me.

There's a noble earl's

Fame and high renown,1

For an auld sang

. It's thought the gudes were stown.
Buy braw troggin, &c.

Here's the worth o' Broughton,2

In a needle's ee;

Here's a reputation

Tint by Balmaghie.3

Buy braw troggin, &c.

Here's its stuff and lining,
Cardoness's head;4

Fine for a sodger,

A' the wale o' lead.

Buy braw troggin, &c.

Here's a little wadset,
Buittle's scrap o' truth,5
Pawned in a gin-shop,
Quenching holy drouth.

Buy braw troggin, &c.

Here's an honest conscience
Might a prince adorn;
Frae the downs o' Tinwald-
So was never worn.6

1 The Earl of Galloway.

Buy braw troggin, &c.

2 Mr Murray of Broughton.

8 Gordon of Balmaghie.

4 Gordon of Cardoness.

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5 Rev. George Maxwell, minister of Buittle. 6 A bitter allusion to Mr Bushby,

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It gives a new idea of Burns, that he should have been able to put such a keen edge upon his satiric weapon, and wield it with such power, within a few weeks of his death.

Mr Heron was also successful in this contest, an event which did not happen till the poor bard had been laid in the dust. The election being subjected to the judgment of a committee, Mr Heron was unseated. He died on his way down to Scotland. Allan

1 This appears to have been the retaliation for the epigram launched by the Rev. Mr Muirhead against Burns after the election of last year.

• Walter Sloan Lawrie of Redcastle. 3 Copland of Collieston. 4 John Bushby.

Cunningham says: 'It was one of the dreams of his day-in which Burns indulged-that, by some miraculous movement, the Tory councillors of the king would be dismissed, and the Whigs, with the Prince of Wales at their head, rule and reign in their stead. That Heron aided in strengthening this "devout imagination" is certain: but then the Laird of Kerroughtree was the victim of the delusion himself.'

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Dr Currie says: "The sense of his poverty, and of the approaching distress of his infant family, pressed heavily on Burns as he lay on the bed of death; yet he alluded to his indigence, at times, with something approaching to his wonted gaiety. What business," said he to Dr Maxwell, who attended him with the utmost zeal," has a physician to waste his time on me? I am a poor pigeon not worth plucking. Alas! I have not feathers enough upon me to carry me to my grave.' In even a gayer spirit, he would sometimes scribble verses of compliment to sweet young Jessy Lewars, as she tripped about on her missions of gentle charity from hall to kitchen and from kitchen to hall. His surgeon, Mr Brown, one day brought in a long sheet, containing the particulars of a menagerie of wild beasts which he had just been visiting. As Mr Brown was handing the sheet to Miss Lewars, Burns seized it, and wrote upon it a couple of verses with red chalk; after which he handed it to Miss Lewars, saying that it was now fit to be presented to a lady. She still possesses the sheet.

Talk not to me of savages

From Afric's burning sun;

No savage e'er could rend my heart,
As, Jessy, thou hast done.

But Jessy's lovely hand in mine,

A mutual faith to plight,

Not even to view the heavenly choir

Would be so blest a sight.

On another occasion, while Miss Lewars was waiting upon him in his sick-chamber, he took up a crystal goblet containing wine and water, and after writing upon it the following verses, in the character of a Toast, presented it to her:

Fill me with the rosy wine,
Call a toast-a toast divine;
Give the poet's darling flame,
Lovely Jessy be the name;
Then thou mayest freely boast
Thou hast given a peerless toast.

EPIGRAMS ON MISS LEWARS.

199

At this time of trouble, on Miss Lewars complaining of indisposition, he said, to provide for the worst, he would write her epitaph. He accordingly inscribed the following on another goblet, saying: 'That will be a companion to the Toast:'—

Say, sages, what's the charm on earth

Can turn Death's dart aside?

It is not purity and worth,
Else Jessy had not died.

On Miss Lewars recovering a little, the poet said: 'There is a poetic reason for it,' and wrote the following:

But rarely seen since Nature's birth,
The natives of the sky;

Yet still one seraph's left on earth,
For Jessy did not die.1

Then he would also jest about her admirers, and speculate on her matrimonial destiny. 'There's Bob Spalding,' he would say; 'he has not as much brains as a midge could lean its elbow on: he wont do.' And so on with the rest, generally ending with the declaration that, being a poet, he was also a prophet-for anciently they were the same thing-and he could therefore foretell that James Thomson would be the man'-a prediction which time fulfilled.

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At the approach of the 4th of June, Mrs Walter Riddel, to whom he had become in some measure reconciled, desired him to go to the Birthday Assembly, to shew his loyalty, and at the same time asked him for a copy of a song he had lately written. He answered as follows::

TO MRS RIDDEL.

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DUMFRIES, 4th June 1796.

I AM in such miserable health, as to be utterly incapable of shewing my loyalty in any way. Racked as I am with rheumatisms, I meet every face with a greeting, like that of Balak to Balaam : Come, curse me, Jacob; and come, defy me, Israel!' So say I: Come, curse me that east wind; and come, defy me the north! Would you have me in such circumstances copy you out a lovesong?

1 This most excellent woman, whose memory must be for ever endeared, not only to the descendants of Burns, but to all his countrymen, is still living (1852) in Dumfries, the widow of the late Mr James Thomson, solicitor.

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