of taste, elegance, and literature. The sudden | I hit on any thing clever, my own applause alteration in his habits of life operated on him will, in some measure, feast my vanity; and physically as well as morally. The humble fare begging Patroclus' and Achates' pardon, I of an Ayrshire peasant he had exchanged for think a lock and key a security, at least equal the luxuries of the Scottish metropolis, and to the bosom of any friend whatever. the effects of this change on his ardent constitution could not be inconsiderable. But what-adventures, my rambles; the frowns and smiles ever influence might be produced on his conduct, his excellent understanding suffered no correspondent debasement. He estimated his friends and associates of every description at their proper value, and appreciated his own conduct with a precision that might give scope to much curious and melancholy reflection. He saw his danger, and at times formed resolutions to guard against it; but he had embarked on the tide of dissipation, and was borne along its stream. Of the state of his mind at this time, an authentic, though imperfect document remains, in a book which he procured in the spring of 1787, for the purpose, as he himself informs us, of recording in it whatever seemed worthy of observation. The following extracts may serve as a specimen : Edinburgh, April 9, 1787. "As I have seen a good deal of human life in Edinburgh, a great many characters which are new to one bred up in the shades of life as I have been, I am determined to take down my remarks on the spot. Gray observes in a letter to Mr Palgrave, that, half a word fixed upon, or near the spot, is worth a cart-load of recollection.' I don't know how it is with the world in general, but with me, making my remarks is by no means a solitary pleasure. I want some one to laugh with me, some one to be grave with me, some one to please me, and help my discrimination, with his or her own remark, and at times, no doubt, to admire my acuteness and penetration. The world are so busied with selfish pursuits, ambition, vanity, interest, or pleasure, that very few think it worth their while to make any observation on what passes around them, except where that observation is a sucker, or branch of the darling plant they are rearing in their fancy. Nor am I sure, notwithstanding all the sentimental flights of novel-writers, and the sage philosophy of moralists, whether we are capable of so intimate and cordial a coalition of friendship, as that one man may pour out his bosom, his every thought and floating fancy, his very inmost soul, with unreserved confidence to another, without hazard of losing part of that respect which man deserves from man; or from the unavoidable imperfections attending human nature, of one day repenting his confidence. For these reasons I am determined to make these pages my confident. I will sketch every character that any way strikes me, to the best of my power, with unshrinking justice. I will insert anecdotes, and take down remarks, in the old law phrase, without feud or favour.—Where "My own private story likewise, my loveof fortune on my bardship; my poems and fragments, that must never see the light, shali be occasionally inserted.-In short, never did four shillings purchase so much friendship since confidence went first to market, or honesty was set up to sale. "To these seemingly invidious, but too just ideas of human friendship, I would cheerfully make one exemption-the connexion between two persons of different sexes, when their interests are united and absorbed by the tie of love "There are few of the sore evils under the sun give me more uneasiness and chagrin than the comparison how a man of genius, nay of avowed worth, is received every where, with the reception which a mere ordinary character, decorated with the trappings and futile distinctions of fortune, meets. I imagine a man of abilities, his breast glowing with honest pride, conscious that men are born equal, still giving honour to whom honour is due; he meets, at a great man's table, a Squire something, or a Sir somebody; he knows the noble landlord, at heart, gives the bard, or whatever he is, a share of his good wishes, beyond, perhaps, any one at table; yet how will it mortify him to see a fellow, whose abilities would scarcely have made an eightpenny tailor, and whose heart is not worth three farthings, meet with atten tion and notice, that are withheld from the sor of genius and poverty? "The noble G has wounded me to the soul here, because I dearly esteem, respect, and love him. He showed so much attention engrossing attention, one day, to the only blockhead at table (the whole company consisted of his lordship, dunderpate, and myself), that I was within half a point of throwing down my gage of contemptuous defiance; but he shook my hand, and looked so bene volently good at parting. God bless him though I should never see him more, I shall love him until my dying day! I am pleased to think I am so capable of the throes of gratitude, as I am miserably deficient in some other virtues. "With I I am more at my ease. never respect him with humble veneration; but when he kindly interests himself in my welfare, or still more when he descends from his pinnacle, and meets me on equal ground in conversation, my heart overflows with what is called liking. When he neglects me for the mere carcass of greatness, or when his eye measures the difference of our points of elevation, I say to myself, with scarcely any emotion, what do I care for him, or his pomp either?'' The intentions of the poet in procuring this book, so fully described by himself, were very imperfectly executed. He has inserted in it few or no incidents, but several observations and reflections, of which the greater part that are proper for the public eye, will be found interwoven in the volume of his letters. The most curious particulars in the book are the delineations of the characters he met with. These are not numerous; but they are chiefly of persons of distinction in the republic of letters, and nothing but the delicacy and respect due to living characters prevents us from committing them to the press. Though it appears that in his conversation he was sometimes disposed to sarcastic remarks on the men with whom he lived, nothing of this kind is discoverable in these more deliberate efforts of his understanding, which, while they exhibit great clearness of discrimination, manifest also the wish, as well as the power, to bestow high and generous praise. By the new edition of his poems, Burns acquired a sum of money that enabled him not only to partake of the pleasures of Edinburgh, but to gratify a desire he had long entertained, of visiting those parts of his native country, most attractive by their beauty or their grandeur; a desire which the return of summer naturally revived. The scenery on the banks of the Tweed, and of its tributary streams strongly interested his fancy; and, accordingly, he left Edinburgh on the 6th of May, 1787, on a tour through a country so much celebrated in the rural songs of Scotland. He travelled on horseback, and was accompanied, during some part of his journey, by Mr Ainslie, now writer to the signet, a gentleman who enjoyed much of his friendship and of his confidence. Of this tour a journal remains, which, however, contains only occasional remarks on the scenery, and which is chiefly occupied with an account of the author's different stages, and with his observations on the various characters to whom he was introduced. In the course of this tour he visited Mr Ainslie of Berrywell, the father of his companion; Mr Brydone, the celebrated traveller, to whom he carried a letter of introduction from Mr Mackenzie; the Rev Dr Somerville of Jedburgh, the historian; Mr and Mrs Scott of Wauchope; Dr Elliot, physician, retired to a romantic spot on the banks of the Roole; Sir Alexander Don; Sir James Hall of Dunglass; and a great variety of other respectable characters. Every where the fame of the poet had spread before him, and every where he received the most hospitable and flattering attentions. At Jedburgh he continued several days, and was honoured by the magistrates with the freedom of their borough. The following may serve as a specimen of this tour, which the perpetual reference to living characters prevents our giving at large. "Saturday, May 6. Left Edinburgh-Lammer-muir hills, miserably dreary in general, but at times very picturesque. "Lanson-edge, a glorious view of the Merse. Reach Berrywell. The familymeeting with my compagnon de voyage, very charming; particularly the sister. "Sunday. Went to church at Dunse. Heard Dr Bowmaker. "Monday. Coldstream-glorious river Tweed-clear and majestic-fine bridge-dine at Coldstream with Mr Ainslie and Mr Foreman. Beat Mr Foreman in a dispute about Voltaire. Drink tea at Lennel-House with Mr and Mrs Brydone. . . . Reception extremely flattering. Sleep at Coldstream. "Tuesday. Breakfast at Kelso- charming situation of the town-fine bridge over the Tweed. Enchanting views and prospects on both sides of the river, especially on the Scotch side. Visit Roxburgh Palace-fine situation of it. Ruins of Roxburgh Castlea holly-bush growing where James the Second was accidently killed by the bursting of a cannon. A small old religious ruin and a fine old garden planted by the religious, rooted out and destroyed by a Hottentot, a maitre d' hotel of the Duke's !-Climate and soil of Berwickshire, and even Roxburghshire, superior to Ayrshire-bad roads-turnip and sheep husbandry, their great improvements. kets, consequently low lands-magnificence of farmers and farm-houses. Come up the Teviot, and up the Jed to Jedburgh, to lie, and so wish myself good night. . Low mar "Wednesday. Breakfast with Mr Fair. Charming romantic situation of Jedburgh, with gardens and orchards, intermingled among the houses and the ruins of a once magnificent cathedral. All the towns here have the appearance of old rude grandeur, but extremely idle.-Jed, a fine romantic little river. Dined with Capt. Rutherford, ... return to Jedburgh. Walked up the Jed with some ladies to be shown Love-lane, and Blackburn, two fairy scenes. Introduced to Mr Potts, writer, and to Mr Sommerville, the clergyman | and sisters. He had left them poor, and comof the parish, a man, and a gentleman, but sad-paratively friendless; he returned to them high ly addicted to punning. "Jedburgh, Saturday. Was presented by the magistrates with the freedom of the town. "Took farewell of Jedburgh, with some melancholy sensations. "Monday, May 14, Kelso. Dine with the farmer's club-all gentlemen talking of high matters-each of them keeps a hunter from £30 to £50 value and attends the fox-hunting club in the country. Go out with Mr Ker, one of the club, and a friend of Mr Ainslie's, to sleep. In his mind and manners, Mr Ker is astonishingly like my dear old friend Robert Muir-Every thing in his house elegant. He offers to accompany me in my English tour. "Tuesday. Dine with Sir Alexander Don; a very wet day.... Sleep at Mr Ker's again, and set out next day for Melrose-visit Dryburgh a fine old ruined abbey, by the way. Cross the Leader, and come up the Tweed to Melrose. Dine there, and visit that far-famed glorious ruin-Come to Selkirk up the banks of Ettrick. The whole country hereabouts, both on Tweed and Ettrick, remarkably stony." Having spent three weeks in exploring this interesting scenery, Burns crossed over into Northumberland. Mr Ker, and Mr Hood, two gentlemen with whom he had become acquainted in the course of his tour, accompanied him. He visited Alnwick Castle; the princely seat of the Duke of Northumberland; the hermitage and old castle of Warksworth; Morpeth, and Newcastle.-In this town he spent two days, and then proceeded to the south-west by Hexham and Wardrue, to Carlisle. After spending a few days at Carlisle with his friend Mr Mitchell, he returned into Scotland, and at Annan his journal terminates abruptly. Of the various persons with whom he became acquainted in the course of this journey, he has, in general, given some account; and almost always a favourable one. That on the banks of the Tweed and of the Teviot, our bard should find nymphs that were beautiful, is what might be confidently presumed. Two of these are particularly described in his journal. But it does not appear that the scenery, or its inhabitants, produced any effort of his muse, as was to have been wished and expected. From Annan, Burns proceeded to Dumfries, and thence through Sanquhar, to Mossgiel, near Mauchline, in Ayrshire, where he arrived about the 8th of June, 1787, after an absence of six busy and eventful months. It will be easily conceived with what pleasure and pride he was received by his mother, his brothers, in public estimation, and easy in his circumstances. He returned to them unchanged in his ardent affections, and ready to share with them to the uttermost farthing, the pittance that fortune had bestowed. Having remained with them a few days, he proceeded again to Edinburgh, and immediately set out on a journey to the Highlands. Of this tour no particulars have been found among his manuscripts. A letter to his friend Mr Ainslie, dated Arrachas, near Crochairbas, by Lochleary, June 28, 1787, commences as follows: "I write you this on my tour through a country where savage streams tumble over savage mountains, thinly overspread with savage flocks, which starvingly support as savage inhabitants. My last stage was Inverary-tomorrow night's stage, Dumbarton. I ought sooner to have answered your kind letter, but you know I am a man of many sins." From this journey Burns returned to his friends in Ayrshire, with whom he spent the month of July, renewing his friendships, and extending his acquaintance throughout the county, where he was now very generally known and admired. In August he again visited Edinburgh, whence he undertook another journey towards the middle of this month, in company with Mr M. Adair, now Dr Adair, of Harrowgate, of which this gentleman has favoured us with the following account: "Burns and I left Edinburgh together in August, 1787. We rode by Linlithgow and Carron, to Stirling. We visited the iron-works at Carron, with which the poet was forcibly struck. The resemblance between that place, and its inhabitants, to the cave of Cyclops, which must have occurred to every classical visitor, presented itself to Burns. At Stirling the prospects from the castle strongly interested him; in a former visit to which, his national feelings had been powerfully excited by the ruinous and roofless state of the hall in which the Scottish Parliaments had frequently been held. His indignation had vented itself in some imprudent, but not unpoetical lines, which had given much offence, and which he took this opportunity of erasing, by breaking the pane of the window at the inn on which they were written. "At Stirling we met with a company of travellers from Edinburgh, among whom was a character in many respects congenial with that of Burns. This was Nicol, one of the teachers of the High Grammar-School at Edinburgh-the same wit and power of conversation; the same fondness for convivial society, and thoughtlessness of to-morrow, characterized both. Jacobitical principles in politics were common to both of them; and these have been suspected, since the revolution of France, to have given place in each, to lxvi LIFE OF ROBERT BURNS. Alpine scenery as can well be imagined. A delightful soft evening showed all its wilder as well as its grander graces. Immediately opposite, and within a mile of us, we saw Airds, a charming romantic place, where dwelt Low, the author of Mary weep no more for me. This was classical ground for Burns. He viewed "the highest hill which rises o'er the source of Dee;" and would have staid till "the passing spirit" had appeared, had we not resolved to reach Kenmore that night. We arrived as Mr and Mrs Gordon were sitting down to supper. "Here is a genuine baron's seat. The castle, an old building, stands on a large natural moat. In front, the river Ken winds for several miles through the most fertile and beautiful holm, till it expands into a lake twelve miles long, the banks of which, on the south, present a fine and soft landscape of green knolls, natural wood, and here and there a grey rock. On the north, the aspect is great, wild, and I may say, tremendous. In short, I can scarcely conceive a scene more terribly romantic than the castle of Kenmore. Burns thinks so highly of it, that he meditates a description of it in poetry. Indeed, I believe he has begun the work. We spent three days with Mr Gordon, whose polished hospitality is of an original and endearing kind. Mrs Gordon's lap-dog, Echo, was dead. She would have an epitaph for him. Several had been made. Burns was asked for one. This was setting Hercules to his distaff. He disliked the sub ject; but, to please the lady, he would try. IN wood and wild, ye warbling throng, Now half extinct your powers of song, Ye jarring screeching things around, "We left Kenmore, and went to Gatehouse. I took him the moor-road, where savage and desolate regions extended wide around. The sky was sympathetic with the wretchedness of the soil; it became lowering and dark. The hollow winds sighed, the lightnings gleamed, the thunder rolled. The poet enjoyed the awful scene he spoke not a word, but seemed rapt in meditation. In a little while the rain began to fall; it poured in floods upon us. For three hours did the wild elements rumble their belly-full upon our defenceless heads. Oh, oh!"iwas foul. We got utterly wet; and to revenge ourselves, Burns insisted at Gatehouse on our getting utterly drunk. "From Gatehouse, we went next day to Kirkcudbright, through a fine country. But here I must tell you that Burns had got a pair of jemmy boots for the journey, which had been thoroughly wet, and which had been dried in such a manner that it was not possible to get them on again.-The brawny poet tried force, and tore them to shreds. A whifling vexation of this sort is more trying to the temper than a serious calamity. We were going to Saint Mary's Isle, the seat of the Earl of Selkirk, and the forlorn Burns was discomfited at the thought of his ruined boots. A sick stomach, and a heart-ache, lent their aid, and the man of verse was quite accable. I attempt. ed to reason with him. Mercy on us, how he did fume and rage! Nothing could reinstate him in temper. I tried various expedients, and at last hit on one that succeeded. I showed him the house of⚫ ,.across the bay of Wigton. Against ⚫ , with whom he was offended, he expectorated his spleen, and regained a most agreeable temper. He was in a most epigrammatic humour indeed! He afterwards fell on humbler game. There is one .. whom he does not love. He had a passing blow at him. crown: Thy fool's head, quoth Satan, that crown shall wear never, I grant thou'rt as wicked, but not quite so clever. "Well, I am to bring you to Kirkcudbright along with our poet, without boots. I carried the torn ruins across my saddle in spite of his fulminations, and in contempt of appear.. ances; and what is more, Lord Selkirk carried them in his coach to Dumfries. He insisted they were worth mending. "We reached Kirkcudbright about one o'clock. I had promised that we should dine with one of the first men in our country, J. Dalzell. But Burns was in a wild and obstreperous humour, and swore he would not dine where he should be under the smallest restraint. We prevailed, therefore, on Mr Dalzell to dine with us in the inn, and had a very agreeable party. In the evening we set out for St Mary's Isle. Robert had not absolutely re * A beautiful and well-known ballad, which begins gained the milkiness of good temper, and it thus: The moon had climb'd the highest hill Its silver light on tower and tree. The level low ground on the banks of a river or stream. This word should be adopted from the Scottish, as, indeed, ought several others of the same nature. That dialect is singularly copious and exact in the denominations of natural objects. occurred once or twice to him, as he rode along, that St Mary's Isle was the seat of a Lord; yet that Lord was not an aristocrate, at least in his sense of the word. We arrived about eight o'clock, as the family were at tea and coffee. St Mary's Isle is one of the most delightful places that can, in my opinion, be form writer, and to Mr Sommerville, the clergyman | and sisters. He had left them poor, and comof the parish, a man, and a gentleman, but sad-paratively friendless; he returned to them high ly addicted to punning. "Jedburgh, Saturday. Was presented by the magistrates with the freedom of the town. "Took farewell of Jedburgh, with some melancholy sensations. "Monday, May 14, Kelso. Dine with the farmer's club-all gentlemen talking of high matters-each of them keeps a hunter from £30 to £50 value and attends the fox-hunting club in the country. Go out with Mr Ker, one of the club, and a friend of Mr Ainslie's, to sleep. In his mind and manners, Mr Ker is astonishingly like my dear old friend Robert Muir-Every thing in his house elegant. He offers to accompany me in my English tour. "Tuesday. Dine with Sir Alexander Don; a very wet day.... Sleep at Mr Ker's again, and set out next day for Melrose-visit Dryburgh a fine old ruined abbey, by the way. Cross the Leader, and come up the Tweed to Melrose. Dine there, and visit that far-famed glorious ruin-Come to Selkirk up the banks of Ettrick. The whole country hereabouts, both on Tweed and Ettrick, remarkably stony." Having spent three weeks in exploring this interesting scenery, Burns crossed over into Northumberland. Mr Ker, and Mr Hood, two gentlemen with whom he had become acquainted in the course of his tour, accompanied him. He visited Alnwick Castle; the princely seat of the Duke of Northumberland; the hermitage and old castle of Warksworth; Morpeth, and Newcastle.-In this town he spent two days, and then proceeded to the south-west by Hexham and Wardrue, to Carlisle. After spending a few days at Carlisle with his friend Mr Mitchell, he returned into Scotland, and at Annan his journal terminates abruptly. Of the various persons with whom he became acquainted in the course of this journey, he has, in general, given some account; and almost always a favourable one. That on the banks of the Tweed and of the Teviot, our bard should find nymphs that were beautiful, is what might be confidently presumed. Two of these are particularly described in his journal. But it does not appear that the scenery, or its inhabitants, produced any effort of his muse, as was to have been wished and expected. From Annan, Burns proceeded to Dumfries, and thence through Sanquhar, to Mossgiel, near Mauchline, in Ayrshire, where he arrived about the 8th of June, 1787, after an absence of six busy and eventful months. It will be easily conceived with what pleasure and pride he was received by his mother, his brothers, in public estimation, and easy in his circumstances. He returned to them unchanged in his ardent affections, and ready to share with them to the uttermost farthing, the pittance that fortune had bestowed. Having remained with them a few days, he proceeded again to Edinburgh, and immediately set out on a journey to the Highlands. Of this tour no particulars have been found among his manuscripts. A letter to his friend Mr Ainslie, dated Arrachas, near Crochairbas, by Lochleary, June 28, 1787, commences as follows: "I write you this on my tour through a country where savage streams tumble over savage mountains, thinly overspread with savage flocks, which starvingly support as savage inhabitants. My last stage was Inverary-tomorrow night's stage, Dumbarton. I ought sooner to have answered your kind letter, but you know I am a man of many sins." From this journey Burns returned to his friends in Ayrshire, with whom he spent the month of July, renewing his friendships, and extending his acquaintance throughout the county, where he was now very generally known and admired. In August he again visited Edinburgh, whence he undertook another journey towards the middle of this month, in company with Mr M. Adair, now Dr Adair, of Harrowgate, of which this gentleman has favoured us with the following account: "Burns and I left Edinburgh together in August, 1787. We rode by Linlithgow and Carron, to Stirling. We visited the iron-works at Carron, with which the poet was forcibly struck. The resemblance between that place, and its inhabitants, to the cave of Cyclops, which must have occurred to every classical visitor, presented itself to Burns. At Stirling the prospects from the castle strongly interested him; in a former visit to which, his national feelings had been powerfully excited by the ruinous and roofless state of the hall in which the Scottish Parliaments had frequently been held. His indignation had vented itself in some imprudent, but not unpoetical lines, which had given much offence, and which he took this opportunity of erasing, by breaking the pane of the window at the inn on which they were written. "At Stirling we met with a company of travellers from Edinburgh, among whom was a character in many respects congenial with that of Burns. This was Nicol, one of the teachers of the High Grammar-School at Edinburgh-the same wit and power of conversation; the same fondness for convivial society, and thoughtlessness of to-morrow, characterized both. Jacobitical principles in politics were common to both of them; and these have been suspected, since the revolution of France, to have given place in each, to |