jected into the stream, they saw a man employ-
ed in angling, of a singular appearance. He
had a cap made of a fox's skin on his head, a
loose great coat fixed round him by a belt,
from which depended an enormous Highland
broadsword. It was Burns. He received them
with great cordiality, and asked them to share
his humble dinner an invitation which they
accepted. On the table they found boiled beef,
with vegetables, and barley broth, after the
manner of Scotland, of which they partook
heartily. After dinner, the bard told them in-
genuously that he had no wine to offer them,
nothing
ROBERT BURNS. 201
nothing better than Highland whiskey, a bottle
of which Mrs. Burns set on the board. He
produced at the same time his punch-bowl made
of Inverary marble, and, mixing the spirit with
water and sugar, filled their glasses, and invited
them to drink.* The travellers were in haste,
and besides, the flavour of the whiskey to their
suthron palates was scarcely tolerable ; but the
generous poet offered them his best, and his
ardent hospitality they found it impossible to
resist. Burns was in his happiest mood, and
the charms of his conversation were altogether
fascinating. He ranged over a great variety of
topics, illuminating whatever he touched. He
related the tales of his infancy and of his youth ;
he recited some of the gayest and some of the
tenderest of his poems; in the wildest of his
strains of mirth, he threw in some touches of
melancholy, and spread around him the electric
emotions of his powerful mind. The Highland
whiskey improved in its flavour; the marble
bowl was again and again emptied and reple-
nished ; the guests of our poet forgot the flight
of time, and the dictates of prudence : at the
hour of midnight they lost their way in return-
insr
* This bowl was made of the stone of which Inverary-
house is built, the mansion of the family of Argyle. This
stone is the lapis ollaris.
202 THE LIFE OF
ing to Dumfries, and could scarcely distinguish
it when assisted by the morning's dawn.*
Besides his duties in the excise and his social
pleasures, other circumstances interfered with
the attention of Burns to his farm. He engaged
in the formation of a society for purchasing
and circulating books among the farmers of his
neighbourhood, of which he undertook the ma-
nagement jf and he occupied himself occasion-
ally in composing songs for the musical work of
Mr. Johnson, then in the course of publica-
tion. These engagements, useful and honour-
able in themselves, contributed, no doubt, to the
abstraction of his thoughts from the business of
agriculture.
The consequences may be easily imagined.
Notwithstanding the uniform prudence and
good management of Mrs. Burns, and though
his rent was moderate and reasonable, our poet
found it convenient, if not necessary, to resign
his farm to Mr. Miller; after having occupied
it three years and a half. His office in the ex-
cise had originally produced about fifty pounds
per annum. Having acquitted himself to the
satisfaction
* Given from the information of one of the party.
f See vol. ii. p. 274.
ROBERT BURNS. 203
satisfaction of the board, he had been appointed
to a new district, the emoluments of which rose
to about seventy pounds per annum. Hoping to
support himself and his family on this humble
income till promotion should reach him, he dis-
posed of his stock and of his crop on Ellisland
by public auction, and removed to a small house
which he had taken in Dumfries, about the end
of the year 1791.
Hitherto Burns, though addicted to excess in
social parties, had abstained from the habitual
use of strong liquors, and his constitution had
not suffered any permanent injury from the irre-
gularities of his conduct. In Dumfries, temp-
tations to the sin that so easily beset him, con-
tinually presented themselves; and his irregu-
larities grew by degrees into habits. These
temptations unhappily occurred during his en-
gagements in the business of his office, as well
as during his hours of relaxation ; and though
he clearly foresaw the consequence of yielding
to them, his appetites and sensations, which
could not prevent the dictates of his judgment,
finally triumphed over the powers of his will.
Yet this victory was not obtained without many
obstinate struggles, and at times temperance
and virtue seemed to have obtained the mastery.
Besides his engagements in the excise, and the
society into which they led, many circumstances
contributed
204 THE LIFE OF
contributed to the melancholy fate of Burns.
His great celebrity made him an object of in-
terest and curiosity to strangers, and few per-
sons of cultivated minds passed through Dum-
fries without attempting to see our poet, and to
enjoy the pleasure of his conversation. As he
could not receive them under his own humble
roof, these interviews passed at the inns of the
town, and often terminated in those excesses
which Burns sometimes provoked, and was sel-
dom able to resist. And among the inhabitants
of Dumfries and its vicinity, there were never
wanting persons to share his social pleasures ; to
lead or accompany him to the tavern ; to par-
take in the wildest sallies of his wit; to witness
the strength and the degradation of his genius.
Still, however, he cultivated the society of
persons of taste and of respectability, and in
their company could impose on himself the re-
straints of temperance and decorum. Nor was
his muse dormant. In the four years which he
lived in Dumfries, he produced many of his
beautiful lyrics, though it does not appear that
he attempted any poem of considerable length.
During this time he made several excursions
into the neighbouring country, of one of which,
through Galloway, an account is preserved in a
letter of Mr. Syme, written soon after; which,
as it gives an animated picture of him by a cor-
rect
ROBERT BURNS. 205
rect and masterly hand, we shall present to the
reader.
" I got Burns a grey Highland shelty to
ride on. We dined the first day, 27th July,
1793, at Glendenwynes of Parton; a beautiful
situation on the banks of the Dee. In the even-
ing we walked out, and ascended a gentle emi-
nence, from which we had as fine a view of
Alpine scenery as can well be imagined. A de^
lightful soft evening showed all its wilder as well
as its grander graces. Immediately opposite,
and within a mile of us, we saw Airds, a charm-
ing romantic place, where dwelt Low, the author
of Mary weep no more for me* This was clas-
sical 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,
* A beautiful and well-known ballad, which begins
thus :
The moon had climb'd the highest hill
Which rises o'er the source of Dee ;
And, from the eastern summit, shed
Its silver light on tower and tree.
206 THE LIFE OF
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 subject; but, to please the lady, he would
try. Here is what he produced :
In wood and wild ye warbling throng
Your heavy loss deplore ;
Now half extinct your powers of song,
Sweet Echo is no more.
Ye
* 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. E.
ROBERT BURNS. 207
Ye jarring screeching things around,
Scream your discordant joys ;
Now half your din of tuneless sound
With Echo silent lies.
" 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 hol-
low 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 I 'twas
foul. We got utterly wet ; and to revenge our-
selves, Burns insisted at Gatehouse on our get-
ting 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 whiffling vexation
of this sort is more trying to the temper than a
serious
208 THE LIFE OF
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
head-ache, lent their aid, and the man of verse
was quite accable. I attempted to reason with
him. Mercy on us, how he did fume and rage !
Nothing could re-instate 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
* * * * t with whom he was offended, he ex-
pectorated his spleen, and regained a most
agreeable temper. He was in a most epigram-
matic humour indeed ! He afterwards fell on
humbler game. There is one ****** whom
he does not love. He had a passing blow at
him.
When * * * * * * t deceased, to the devil went down,
'Twas nothing would serve him but Satan's own 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 appearances;
and what is more, Lord Selkirk carried them in
his
ROBERT BURNS. 209
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 obstrepe-
rous 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 regained the milki-
ness of good temper, and it 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 aristocrat, 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 formed by the assemblage of
every soft, but not tame object which consti-
tutes natural and cultivated beauty. But not
to dwell on its external graces, let me tell you
that we found all the ladies of the family (all
beautiful) at home, and some strangers ; and
among others, who but Urbani ! The Italian
sung us many Scottish songs, accompanied with
instrumental music. The two young ladies of
Selkirk sung also. We had the song of Lord
VOL. I. P Gregory,
210 THE LIFE OP
Gregory, which I asked for, to have an oppor-
tunity of calling on Burns to recite his ballad
to that tune. He did recite it ; and such was
the effect, that a dead silence ensued. It was
such a silence as a mind of feeling naturally
preserves when it is touched with that enthusi-
asm which banishes every other thought but the
contemplation and indulgence of the sympathy
produced. Burns's Lord Gregory is, in my
opinion, a most beautiful and affecting ballad.*
The fastidious critic may perhaps say, some of
the sentiments and imagery are of too elevated
a kind for such a style of composition ; for in-
stance, " Thou bolt of Heaven that passest by $"
and, " Ye mustering thunder," &c. ; but this is a
cold-blooded objection, which will be said rather
than felt.
" We enjoyed a most happy evening at Lord
Selkirk's. We had, in every sense of the word,
a feast, in which our minds and our senses were
equally gratified. The poet was delighted with
his company, and acquitted himself to admira-
tion. The lion that had raged so violently in
the morning, was now as mild and gentle as a
lamb. Next day we returned to Dumfries, and
so ends our peregrination. I told you, that in
the midst of the storm, on the wilds of Ken-
more,
* See vol. iv. p. 38.
ROBERT BURNS. 211
more, Burns was rapt in meditation. What
do you think he was about ? He was charging
the English army, along with Bruce, at Ban-
nockburn. He was engaged in the same man-
ner on our ride home from St. Mary's Isle, and
I did not disturb him. Next day he produced
me the following address of Bruce to his troops,
and gave me a copy for Dalzell."
" Scots wha hae wi' Wallace bled," &c. #
Burns had entertained hopes of promotion in
the excise j but circumstances occurred which
retarded their fulfilment, and which, in his own
mind, destroyed all expectation of their being
ever fulfilled. The extraordinary events which
ushered in the revolution of France, interested
the feelings, and excited the hopes of men in
every corner of Europe. Prejudice and tyranny
seemed about to disappear from among men,
and the day-star of reason to rise upon a be-
nighted world. In the dawn of this beautiful
morning, the genius of French freedom appeared
on our southern horizon with the countenance
of an angel, but speedily assumed the features
of a demon, and vanished in a shower of blood.
Though previously a Jacobite and a cavalier,
p 2 Burns
See vol. iv. p. 125.
212 THE LIFE OF
Burns had shared in the original hopes enter-
tained of this astonishing revolution, by ardent
and benevolent minds. The novelty and the
hazard of the attempt meditated by the First, or
Constituent Assembly, served rather, it is pro-
bable, to recommend it to his daring temper ;
and the unfettered scope proposed to be given
to every kind of talents, was doubtless gratify-
ing to the feelings of conscious but indignant
genius. Burns foresaw not the mighty ruin
that was to be the immediate consequence of an
enterprise, which on its commencement, pro-
mised so much happiness to the human race.
And even after the career of guilt and of blood
commenced, he could not immediately, it may
be presumed, withdraw his partial gaze from a
people who had so lately breathed the senti-
ments of universal peace and benignity, or ob-
literate in his bosom the pictures of hope and of
happiness to which those sentiments had given
birth. Under these impressions, he did not al-
ways conduct himself with the circumspection
and prudence which his dependent situation
seemed to demand. He engaged indeed in no
popular associations, so common at the time of
which we speak ; but in company he did not
conceal his opinions of public measures, or of the
reforms required in the practice of our govern-
ment : and sometimes, in his social and un-
guarded
ROBERT BURNS. 213
guarded moments, he uttered them with a wild
and unjustifiable vehemence. Information of
this was given to the Board of Excise, with the
exaggerations so general in such cases. A su-
perior officer in that department was authorized
to inquire into his conduct. Burns defended
himself in a letter addressed to one of the Board,
written with great independence of spirit, and
with more than his accustomed eloquence. The
officer appointed to inquire into his conduct
gave a favourable report. His steady friend,
Mr. Graham of Fintry, interposed his good of-
fices in his behalf; and the imprudent gauger
was suffered to retain his situation, but given to
understand that his promotion was deferred, and
must depend on his future behaviour.
This circumstance made a deep impression
on the mind of Burns. Fame exaggerated his
misconduct, and represented him as actually
dismissed from his office; and this report in-
duced a gentleman of much respectability to pro-
pose a subscription in his favour. The offer was
refused by our poet in a letter of great elevation
of sentiment, in which he gives an account of
the whole of this transaction, and defends him-
self from the imputation of disloyal sentiments
on the one hand, and on the other, from the
charge of having made submissions for the sake
of his office, unworthy of his character.
" The
214 THE LIFE OF
" The partiality of my countrymen/' he ob-
serves, " has brought me forward as a man of
genius, and has given me a character to support.
In the poet I have avowed manly and independ-
ent sentiments, which I hope have been found
in the man. Reasons of no less weight than
the support of a wife and children, have pointed
out my present occupation as the only eligible
line of life within my reach. Still my honest
fame is my dearest concern, and a thousand
times have I trembled at the idea of the degrad-
ing epithets that malice or misrepresentation,
may affix to my name. Often in blasting anti-
cipation have I listened to some future hackney
scribbler, with the heavy malice of savage stu-
pidity, exultingly asserting that Burns, not-
withstanding the fanfaronade of independence
to be found in his works, and after having been
held up to public view, and to public estima-
tion, as a man of some genius, yet, quite desti-
tute of resources within himself to support his
borrowed dignity, dwindled into a paltry ex-
ciseman, and slunk out the rest of his insignifi-
cant existence in the meanest of pursuits, and
among the lowest of mankind.
" In your illustrious hands, Sir, permit me
to lodge my strong disavowal and defiance of
such slanderous falsehoods. Burns was a poor
man from his birth, and an exciseman by ne-
cessity :
ROBERT BURNS. 215
cessity : but I will say it ! the sterling of his
honest worth, poverty could not debase, and his
independent British spirit, oppression might
bend, but could not subdue."
It was one of the last acts of his life to copy
this letter into his book of manuscripts, accom-
panied by some additional remarks on the same
subject. It is not surprising, that at a season
of universal alarm for the safety of the consti-
tution, the indiscreet expressions of a man so
powerful as Burns, should have attracted notice.
The times certainly required extraordinary vi-
gilance in those intrusted with the administra-
tion of the government, and to ensure the safety
of the constitution was doubtless their first
duty. Yet generous minds will lament that
their measures of precaution should have robbed
the imagination of our poet of the last prop on
which his hopes of independence rested, and by
embittering his peace, have aggravated those
excesses which were soon to conduct him to an
untimely grave.
Though the vehemence of Burns's temper,
increased as it often was by stimulating liquors,
might lead him into many improper and un-
guarded expressions, there seems no reason to
doubt of his attachment to our mixed form of
government.
216 THE LIFE OF
government. In his common-place book, where
he could have no temptation to disguise, are the
following sentiments. " Whatever miirht be my
sentimenis of republics, ancient or modern, as to
Britain, I ever abjured the idea. A constitution,
"which in its original principles, experience has
proved to be every way fitted for our happiness,
it would be insanity to abandon for an untried
visionary theory." In conformity to these sen-
timents, when the pressing nature of public af-
fairs called in 1795 for a general arming of the
people, Burns appeared in the ranks of the Dum-
fries volunteers, and employed his poetical talents
in stimulating their patriotism ;* and at this sea-
son of alarm, he brought forward the following
hymn, worthy of the Grecian Muse, when Greece
was most conspicuous for genius and valour.
Scene A Field of B.ttle Time of die Day,
Evening the wounded and dying of the vic-
torious Army are supposed to join in the follow-
ing Sons
Farewell, thou fair day, thou green earth, and ye skies,
Now gay with the bri_ht setting sun ;
Farewell loves and friendships, ye dear tender ties,
Our race of existence is run !
Thou
* See vol. iv. p. 384.
ROBERT BURKS. 217
Thou grim king of terrors, thou life's gloomy foe,
Go, frighten the coward and slave ;
Go, teach them to tremble, fell tyrant ! but know,
No terrors hast thou to the brave !
Thou strik'st the dull peasant, he sinks in the dark,
Nor saves e'en the wreck of a name ;
Thou strik'st the young hero a glorious mark !
He falls in the blaze of his fame !
In the field of proud honor our swords in our hands,
Our king and our country to save
While victory shines on life's last ebbing sands,
O ! who would not rest with the brave !*
Though by nature of an athletic form, Burns
had in his constitution the peculiarities and the
delicacies that belong to the temperament of
genius. He was liable, from a very early period
of
* This poem was written in 1 79 1 See vol. ii.
p. 335. It was printed in Johnsons Musical Museum.
The poet had an intention, in the latter part of his life,
of printing it separately, set to music, but was advised
against it, or at least discouraged from it. The martial
ardour which rose so high afterwards, on the threat-
ened invasion, had not then acquired the tone necessary
to give popularity to this noble poem ; which to the
editor, seems more calculated to invigorate the spirit of
defence, in a season of real and pressing danger, than any
production of modern times. It is here printed with
his last corrections, varied a little from the copy followed,
vol. ii. p. 385.
218 THE LIFE OF
of life, to that interruption in the process of
digestion, which arises from deep and anxious
thought, and which is sometimes the effect, and
sometimes the cause of depression of spirits.
Connected with this disorder of the stomach,
there was a disposition to head-ache, affecting
more especially the temples and eye-balls, and
frequently accompanied by violent and irregu-
lar movements of the heart. Endowed by nature
with great sensibility of nerves, Burns was, in
his corporeal, as well as in his mental system,
liable to inordinate impressions ; to fever of
body as well as of mind. This predisposition to
disease, which strict temperance in diet, regular
exercise, and sound sleep, might have subdued,
habits of a very different nature strengthened and
inflamed. Perpetually stimulated by alcohol in
one or other of its various forms, the inordinate
actions of the circulating system became at
length habitual; the process of nutrition was
unable to supply the waste, and the powers of life
began to fail. Upwards of a year before his death,
there was an evident decline in our poet's personal
appearance, and though his appetite continued
unimpaired, he was himself sensible that his con-
stitution was sinking. In his moments of thought
he reflected with the deepest regret on his fatal
progress, clearly foreseeing the goal towards
which he was hastening, without the strength
of mind necessary to stop, or even to slacken his
course.
ROBERT BURNS. 219
course. His temper now became more irritable
and gloomy j he fled from himself into society,
often of the lowest kind. And in such company,
that part of the convivial scene, in which wine
increases sensibility and excites benevolence, was
hurried over, to reach the succeeding part, over
which uncontroled passion generally presided.
He who suffers the pollution of inebriation, how